March 14, 2008, Yoe Pennsylvania (East Side)

It has been a bad two weeks. First, I had gotten the news that Uncle Philo was dead. It seemed impossible. Uncle Philo always seemed invincible and in control of every situation. The funeral was quiet and subdued, but strangely the crowd seemed filled with a lot of peculiar folks who didn't seem like they worked for a steam-pipe company.

To digress, my uncle, Philo Livingston, worked for a firm called Fulton Horizons Limited. It supplied high-tech steam piping and tubing for a variety of scientific and power-generation companies. He traveled throughout the world, and apparently made a very comfortable living on the sales commissions. It was Uncle Philo who put me through Carneige-Mellon on the sole condition that I take Professor Langley's master class in transitional science. It was that class that gave me the insights to invent the belt of strength and become Dr. Hercules.

Anyway, no one I talked to would explain how Philo died, beyond saying that it was a tragic accident. I tried using my contacts with the York Regional Police force, but they all clammed up on me. In fact, a few days after the funeral, Officer Barshinger, who I had always thought was my pal, came by and said that the York Regional PD didn't really appreciate a vigilante crime fighter working in Yoe, and that maybe I ought to knock off the hijinks. He even went so far as to say that he was going to see about having my Private Eye permit pulled and the zoning variance for my laboratory revoked.

It was then I got the note. It said that I was named sole heir to Philo's shares in Fulton Horizons LTD. I was surprised for three reasons: first I had no idea that Philo actually owned a piece of the company he worked for; second, there was no mention of any such shares at the reading of Philo's will; and third, the note was not from a law firm, but rather directly from the company's private accountant. I was to come to a special meeting at the company's Lancaster Headquarters on April 2nd, and to bring the note with me.

It had been a bad two weeks. But perhaps it will at least be an interesting month ahead of me. So, I think I'll close up the lab. Good Lord! I need a martini.

H.T.Wilberforce, a.k.a. Dr. Hercules

 
dr._hercules_s_journal_march_14_2008.txt · Last modified: 2019/08/04 06:19 (external edit)
 
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