The Invasion of Heaven, Part One of the Newirth Mythology by Koep Michael B

Author:Koep, Michael B. [Koep, Michael B.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780989393522
Publisher: Will Dreamly Arts
Published: 2013-08-26T16:00:00+00:00

A white cardboard box was on the table in our recently cleaned hotel room. Beside it was an envelope with my name printed in graceful, friendly pen strokes: Dr. Loche Newirth.

The letter was from Angelo Catena and it explained that the attorneys for the Winship family had been contacted by my lawyer in the United States, Alan Chatfield. It explained further that Chatfield was the official representative for my practice as well as managing the affairs of my estate. There were also words of encouragement and condolence to Bethany’s and my misfortune as therapist and client. He ended the letter with, Please set your mind at ease concerning the litigation in this matter. You are in good company, and Mr. Chatfield will take care of your affairs with diligence and integrity. Though I know that my support is but a scratch on the surface of this sorrowful circumstance. I hope that it can in some way allay your loss. Yours, most sincerely, Angelo Catena.

The envelope also contained a formal letter from Alan Chatfield himself. In short, he outlined the process that I faced, the responsibilities that he would supervise, and strangely, he called it his honor to do so. He invited me to contact him at any time with questions, but for the time being, the investigation was still being conducted and my absence had been officially authorized as temporary professional leave. Chatfield had made contact with Carol, and with her assistance he was certain that my case was open and shut—nothing to worry about.

Turning to hand the pages to Helen, I saw her sitting on the edge of the bed staring into the closet. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

“They’ve filled our closets with clothes.”

I gave her the letter. Glancing at it she said, “I’ve already seen it. And I went though most of what’s in that box during my flight over here. They provided me with my own FYI portfolio.” I turned and went for the box that supposedly contained my life history.

It was all there. Perhaps the only thing missing that detailed my existence was a recording of my first words as a toddler. There was even reference to Marcus Rearden being my psychologist with a short summary of his publications and successes in criminal psychology.

Thumbing through several file folders I found the name Diana Goddell. Lifting it out of the box I felt a chill. Ravistelle had told us her story in brief, but insisted that we discover for ourselves, with the provided documentation, her importance. It was William Greenhame who first told me of the car accident that separated Basil and me. As I read I found Greenhame’s tale was confirmed, but the details eluded me. I must’ve muttered, “I don’t get it.”

Helen was standing beside me, scanning the page over my shoulder. “What did Greenhame tell you?” She used his name in a way that startled me. It was almost too familiar.

“He told me that Diana was my mother, but we were taken to live with Jules and Rebecca Pirrip in hiding,” I said.

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