Stolen History - The Letter
The Lane, 2022
The script was in her grandmother’s flowing, immaculate handwriting, nearly calligraphy with its soft, well-formed words. The tone was pure Lady Ava Angelica Lassiter Campbell.
It is no secret that our family is filled with colorful characters. While your father’s side has its pedigree of doctorates, officers, and heroes of wars and archaeology, your mother’s side - of which I am proudly part - tends towards the less traditional. I’ll be blunt: they have been highwaymen, scoundrels, fraudsters, even some cattle rustlers, if I remember correctly. My father, your great-grandfather, was an American. And a thief.
Now, he was no common pickpocket, mind you. He was a master. Legendary in his day. So much so that he was recruited by the U.S. and British Intelligence during the War, and was instrumental in interrupting funding that would have given the Nazis a huge boost. As a reward for his service, he was given his freedom and a pardon. What they didn’t realize was that he had amassed a great fortune in the meantime. I am sure you and your siblings are still reeling from the inheritance you just received. Well, now you know where it came from.
But you need to understand something about my father: he never robbed anyone who couldn’t afford to lose what he took. In fact, he had a special penchant for relieving wealthy collectors of their belongings, particularly items that had been stolen in the first place. Cultural pieces were a personal favorite of his.
That seems to be something you have in common.
Cai gasped, sitting up straight in the chair and dropping the letter on the desk. How could she have known? Hands trembling, she reached for the decanter and poured herself a drink, draining it in one swallow and pouring another. With a steadying breath, she picked up the missive and continued reading.
Yes, dear, I know all about your extracurricular activities. And before you worry, I approve. I always have. I assumed you would eventually tell me when the time was right, but here we are. I was not surprised, either. I don’t think you realize how closely I have followed your career, Cai. Every paper written, every article published (and the ones the journals refused to publish). Your honors thesis in your senior year, ‘Reclaiming the Sacred: Post-Colonial Responsibility in Western Museums’. Your Master’s thesis: ‘The Colonial Gaze and the Museum Mind: Deconstructing Acquisition Narratives in 20th Century Archaeology’. All with a very strong rebuke to the West and the ‘it belongs in a museum’ attitude of so many academics, including some of your own lineage.
And then the ceremonial pipe went missing from Dr. Crawford’s personal collection, mysteriously appearing at the White Mountain Apache cultural center a few weeks later, all coincidentally after your visit. It did not take much to notice a trend, as long as one was paying attention. And I was. You have done great work, love. I am so very proud of you. Which brings me to the crux of this letter: I want you to do more.
First off, complete your education at Cambridge. You have worked hard and sacrificed much, and you have earned the right to take on the ‘Doctor Williams’ name. Secondly, it is time to raise the stakes. By now, I am sure that you have already considered what the money I have left can do towards your efforts. And while five million pounds may seem like a lot, it can disappear very quickly. You will need a lot more. You will also need support and guidance, and a place from which to work that is not the road or The Lane. So I have arranged for you to take ownership of your great-grandfather’s old flat in Blackfriars. It has been some time since anyone was there, so it will require some polish, no doubt. But I am confident you will find it much to your liking and comfort afterward.
Mr. Haversleigh will take you to the property when you are ready. Once you have acclimated, he will then introduce you to your new patron, who will be an invaluable resource in the coming months and years. I trust him completely, so be assured you can as well.
New patron? What did that even mean? She read on.
He is aware of your passion and shares your desire to repatriate and recover the stolen history of cultures and people around the world. He not only has the funds to support your efforts but also the resources to locate items of interest that you might not otherwise even be aware of. I trust you and he will be of like minds in these regards.
One final thing. I would ask that you not include your brother or sister in these activities, or even let them in on what you are now learning. Wally is a good man with a good heart, and is going to do good things for people in his life. He would give it all up to help his big sister, and the world needs him where he is. Marian has her own path, and you know all too well that she would have too much moral conflict participating in anything she found legally questionable. I know there is no use in dissuading you from telling dear Nadia, however. She will be a fantastic asset to you should she decide to be, and has always been a cooler head to balance against your own. I’ve included a generous stipend for her as well, since I know you would give it to her anyway.
There is still so much for you to learn about your family, but only this part is mine to share. I have no doubt you will uncover more as you progress. It is inevitable, really. Adventure, discovery, and mystery all run in your blood, my dear. I do hope you embrace it.
I love you dearly,
Grandma C
The letter was flourished with Lady Campbell's unmistakable signature and a red wax seal of the family crest. Cai leaned back in the chair again, letting the pages drop into her lap. Her head swam. Master thieves? Myterious patrons? Secret flats on the Thames? None of it felt real. There was a soft knock at the door.
Haversleigh cleared his throat gently and stepped in. “Miss Cai, I don’t mean to bother you, but shall I prepare a bed for you tonight? Your brother and sister are discussing the pub for dinner. Shall I tell them to go on ahead?”
Cai nodded her head, not looking up. “Yes. Please. Thank you, Algy. Let them know I…” She paused. What could she even say to them at this point?
Haversleigh interrupted. “I can tell them you have paperwork to complete. Probate requirements and the like.”
She smiled weakly. “Thank you. Grandma always said you could fix anything.”
He chuckled. “Not anything, Miss Cai. But I have been around long enough to have a few solutions on hand. I’ll have your old room made up for you. Mrs. Weebly can make you some dinner if you are hungry. I have let her know.”
“Thanks again, Algy.”
He began to leave and then paused. “Tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Blackfriars, Miss Cai.”
She sat silently for a moment and then nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
This is a lot of fun
I'm really enjoying this story! As well as how you keep changing the buttons--buy you a secret flat?!? 😂