The Paths of Destiny
Appendix 2

Jasmine

Parker’s next major supernatural encounter came in the form of his long dead great-great-grandmother, Lady Jasmine. She appeared to him one night in 1998, two years after he had retired from the military. This encounter would be the one that led him on the path he was destined to follow.

From Robert B Parker’s personal memoirs dated September 10, 1998:

I had another supernatural encounter last night. It is well past dawn already; luckily, I have the next couple of days off. I don’t think I would be able to function properly after staying up all night with the spirit of my deceased great-great-grandmother. I’m writing this now while the memories are fresh in my mind. I don’t want to forget any important details.

I had just come home from celebrating my promotion to detective in the Miami-Dade Police Department. As I was settling in for the night with a research book on supernatural encounters, I heard a lilting female voice behind me.

“I see you decided to follow in your great-great-grandfather’s footsteps by becoming a crime solver,” the voice said.

I jumped up and reached for the revolver that was, unfortunately, not at my side, but five feet away from me on the dining room table. I turned toward the voice and to my utter shock and dismay, I was looking at a beautiful woman dressed in the style of the subcontinent of India. If I hadn’t known better I could have sworn she was the spitting image of my great-great-grandmother, Lady Jasmine. Of course, she was Lady Jasmine. However, at the time I didn’t know that. I think I really did know it deep down but hadn’t realized it yet.

“Oh don’t look so shocked, Robert,” the apparition said with a laugh like tiny wind chimes. “This kind of thing runs in the family. Or didn’t you pay attention to those stories my daughter told you when you were growing up? They say ‘Truth is often stranger than fiction.’ And I’m living, rather in this case, un-living proof.”

All I could do was stand dumbfounded and stare at the beautiful woman standing in the living room dining room combo of my apartment, smiling at her own wit.

“Well, don’t just stand there with your mouth open like that, you’ll catch an elephant that way. I came here to let you know that sometime within your future, no more than three years I would imagine, you will continue the legacy that you were born for and into. My daughter, your great-grandmother, and my namesake, made sure of that when she gave you that necklace you wear around your neck.”

I instinctively reached for the white tiger claw necklace, and then stopped myself.

“How do you know about the necklace,” I demanded sitting up in the chair I had not realized I had sat down in.

“I told you, Robert,” the apparition said a bit impatiently, “I’ve been watching you all your life. Besides, that necklace was my first gift from your great-great-grandfather. I didn’t get a chance to thank him properly when I first received it, you know. He had to go immediately on another assignment in the Himalayas to help investigate some rumors of some four-armed creatures that were sited there. Did you know that as a result of that particular assignment, Roger became Britain’s first RAF pilot?”

I must have shaken my head no, for the apparition claiming to be Lady Jasmine said, “I thought not. Not even your great-grandmother knew about that. It’s not public knowledge that Roger was the first Britain to fly in the service of Queen Victoria…”

“But that is contrary to the history records,” I blurted out in protest.

“Of course it is,” she said with a peremptory wave of her hand. “Do you really think at that time the world would have been ready to hear about mankind actually being able to fly, and in a winged machine made of metal? Of course not. Let the history books say it was the Americans, the pioneers of modern flight. But I know the true story. And if your great-great-grandfather, my dear husband, were here he’d be able to tell you exactly how he did it. Well, in any case, you will be able to look up his report to Queen Victoria on that particular adventure of his soon.

“But that isn’t why I am here, young man. As I said earlier, you’ll be joining in the family legacy that Roger started all those years ago.”

“Forgive me for interrupting, Lady Jasmine, if that is who you really are,” I began. “But how…”

“Please, call me Jasmine,” she said waving her hand absentmindedly as she wandered around my living area, examining everything she came across that piqued her interest.

“Very well, Jasmine,” I began again. “How do you know that I’ll be partaking in this legacy of yours? And how are you so sure I’ll even accept it?”

“Oh it’s not just my legacy Robert,” Jasmine said turning away from a painted portrait of what I knew to be of Lady Jasmine and Sir Roger Bixby. “The legacy is yours as well. It’s in your blood.”

Whether by accident or design, she had pointed directly at the portrait of my great-great-grandparents in emphasis of her words. It was at that moment I became a true believer in the supernatural and all the stories I had heard growing up had suddenly come to life in my mind. It was as if a switch had opened a floodgate. Suddenly I was actually living all the adventures I was told about. Details that were never mentioned, I experienced. Roger’s part in the saving of Queen Victoria and subsequent knighting. Roger attending the Confirmation ceremonies of the titles given to his father and to his mother’s father for their part in saving the Queen. Roger’s escape from the pirates and subsequent rescue by Lady Violet Brooke-Harrington. His masquerading as Lady Violet’s secretary. His several attempts to pick a lock that should have been easier to him and Lady Violet asking if he did that sort of thing much. Roger partaking in a séance, turned treasure hunt. His showing his official rank of Lieutenant-General, in direct service to Queen Victoria, to the doctor in Calcutta to secure the release of the German soldiers. Roger flying the plane out of the Himalayas under the watchful eye of Elizabeth, after their escape. His marriage to the Lady Jasmine, and witnessing the birth of Jasmine Georgena, his youngest child. The pride that both parents felt when Jasmine Georgena helped them work an assignment, the first of many such team-ups. The bitter tears of loss when news reached them of the death of Jason Richard and Victoria Anne, the second eldest son and eldest daughter, by drowning in a boating accident, while on separate assignments for the Organization created by Queen Victoria. The feeling of hopelessness when Roger and Jasmine watched as Jasmine Georgena walked out on them after their argument with her in regards to her choice of husbands. The defiance of Jasmine Georgena as she argued that she was an adult and had the right to choose who she wanted to marry and her simultaneous fear that her parents would never love her or speak to her again as she walked away from them. The joy and pride all three felt, and soon the entire family, when Roger walked his youngest daughter down the aisle on her wedding day. The feelings and emotions of both Lady Jasmine and Jasmine Georgena when Lady Jasmine pulled her daughter aside at the wedding reception and gave her the white tiger claw necklace. Roger’s death and the resulting pain of loss amongst his survivors. These and many other experiences both personal and in the line of duty I saw, felt and heard in such vivid detail of those who had in one form or another had partaken of the family legacy that Roger began. It seemed as if I had lived several lifetimes. Yet when I recovered, I was sitting in a chair and only a few moments had passed.

When I had regained my faculties, I saw bending over me with genuine concern and trepidation, Lady Jasmine. I mean I really saw her. Not as a spirit from the past but as she looked when Roger first laid eyes upon her over a century ago. My God, she was more beautiful in person than I had imagined. The portrait on my wall didn’t do her any justice.

“Well that was quite a rush,” I said when I had finally caught my breath.

Jasmine started to giggle. She actually giggled!!!! Soon the giggles turned to outright laughter. It was so infectious, I wound up laughing just as hard as she was. And I didn’t know why. We must have laughed for at least 20 minutes before we finally were able to calm down and catch our breath.

“Why did you start laughing?’ I asked.

After a few false starts of trying to keep from giggling again, Jasmine replied, “Your comment was so like Roger. He would make off the wall statements like that, particularly when the atmosphere warranted a more serious approach. Speaking of which, do you know you are the spitting image of Roger? A little darker in skin tone, but that comes from your Indian heritage. Quite handsome actually. If I were closer to your age, I’d bed you myself just for the fun of it.”

“Umm, you’re forgetting something, Jasmine,” trying to keep the shock out of my voice and mannerism.

“I am?” she asked in surprise. “What’s that?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re a spirit,” I replied with a smile.

“Details,” she said with a wave of her hand and smiling impishly. “Speaking of which, I noticed you have a chess board. You up for a game? Of course, you’ll have to move the pieces for me; I’ve not mastered being able to physically affect anything in the material world, yet. But I haven’t played a good game of chess since Roger passed.”

So we spent the rest of the night and well into the pre-dawn hours playing chess. We played five games in all. Two wins for the each of us and a draw on the third game. After the fifth game, Jasmine pulled the mother card and demanded that I get some sleep.

Her parting words to me as she faded away in the light of the rising sun were, “You’ll do our family proud, Robert. The Legacy that you inherited is a true and righteous one. One you will pass on to the next generation when the time is right. Know that I am always here with and for you if you ever need me.”

And with that she was gone.

Though to be honest, she hasn’t really left me. I can sense her nearby, impatiently tapping her foot waiting for me to go to bed.

One thing she did mention does come to mind. How, exactly, did my great-grandmother make sure I would continue the family Legacy?

Regardless, my casual hobby has just now become a second job to me. Admittedly, the pay is going to suck and I’ll have to pursue it outside of my regular duties in my new position. On the other hand, I’ll have some resources inside the department as well as some old contacts from my Navy and UNO days that might be of help to me in my future and deeper investigations of the supernatural.

Perhaps my encounter in Cavite was just a peek at what’s in store for me.

Since that night, Robert has been moonlighting as an investigator of the supernatural and more. His reputation as an ace detective in his regular job has earned him commendations and the promotion to head of his division as its captain. He has written several books related to his hobbies and has been in the top ten booksellers’ lists worldwide for his novels, based on his investigation of the supernatural. He has also been consulted several times in regards to various US Federal Law Enforcement Agency investigations.

At the end of one such successful assignment, a representative of the United Nations Organization approached Robert. After a four-hour question and answer session, Robert felt like he had just gone through a modern day equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition. The representative never gave a real reason why he wanted to interview him. However, when it was over, all Robert got in return was a thank you and that he would be contacted if he should qualify. But for what? It does seem coincidental the interview took place one and a half years after Robert’s meeting Lady Jasmine.

Or is it?

Excerpt from Robert B Parker’s personal memoirs dated June 5, 2000:

At this point, I feel I need to explain something about Jasmine’s openness towards the carnal pleasures. In my time with Jasmine, I’ve come to understand her temperament about this. Part of which, I deduced from the memories I still retain from our first meeting; those of her whispering in Sir Roger’s ear on several of their adventures, words that no proper Victorian lady would publicly speak out loud to one’s lover.

By no means would I consider my ancestress to be of loose morals, nor can I accuse her of being prudish, when it comes to the matters of sexuality; she is quite honest about it. While we are in public, she uses her openness occasionally as a test for me during times that require my undivided attention of seriousness and logic. I’ll be the first to admit, I do fail the test at times; sometimes, quite hilariously in retrospect.

In private, however, whenever I’m contemplating a possible love interest, Jasmine is an advisor, and mentor. She has never gone out of her way to replace fault with any of my prospective lovers. Nor has she taken it upon herself to spy on them. She vehemently refused to do so on the one occasion I had doubts about an old girlfriend, which my doubts proved true in the end.

When it comes to my choices in this matter, she advises only, allowing me to make my own mistakes and triumphs alone. Jasmine does claim, however, that she already knows whom I will marry and all the women who come before my future wife are just dress rehearsals. However, just like any other human being, Jasmine does tend to have her jealous moments.