I looked down into the shallow water in the box at the drawing I hadn't seen in nearly a century. It still looked the same apart from a slight browning of the paper. I remembered lying naked on that couch in the god-awful sitting room while he drew me…
*Flashback*
Amber eyes barely seen over the sketch paper swept over his naked form and settled on his own deep black orbs before sliding back to the paper on which his almost-bare body was being immortalized. The young man's cheeks flushing at the idea of being observed in his current state before he was once again distracted by the burning gaze that sent flames licking over every inch of his skin…
*end*
I opened my eyes again when Mello interrupts to nothing but the sight of my younger self on the paper.
"Louis the Sixteenth wore a fabulous stone, called the Blue Diamond of the Crown," he says, looking at the reference photo of the diamond, "which disappeared in 1792, about the time old Louis lost everything from the neck up. The theory goes that the crown diamond was chopped too... recut into a heart-like shape... and it became Le Coeur de la Mer, The Heart of the Ocean. Today it would be worth more than the Hope Diamond." He explains, looking into my eyes.
"It was a dreadful, heavy thing." I say, pointing to the drawing, "I only wore it this once."
"L, do you honestly believe this is you?" Near asked, gazing at me incredulously.
"It is me, Near." I said boredly, "Wasn't I a dish?" I joked.
"I traced the insurance records all the way back to an old claim that was settled under absolute secrecy. Can you tell me who the claimant was, L?" Mello asked, staring hard into my eyes. "I should imagine it's someone named Morello." I stated, not fazed at all by the intense look. "That's right, Thierry Morello, Pittsburgh steel tycoon." Mello looked ecstatic, "For a diamond necklace his son Aiber bought for his lover… You… A week before he sailed on Titanic. It was filed right after the sinking, so that means the diamond must have gone down with the ship." He reasoned. "Sound logic." I commented, smirking to myself.
"What is all this supposed to mean?" Near interrupted, thoroughly confused and not enjoying it a bit. Mello pointed at the date under the initials L.Y. on the drawing. My Light… How I miss you so… "April 14th, 1912?" Near questioned, still not quite understanding. "It means" Matt cut in, "that if your grandfather is who he says he is, then he was wearing the diamond the day the Titanic sank." He looked very skeptically at Mello who now had his hand on my shoulder, eyes glowing with excitement. "And that makes you my new best friend. We will happily compensate you for anything you can tell us that will lead to its recovery." The blonde said seriously with a dazzling smile that could never compare with my Light's. I looked at the blonde with a critical eye before turning away and saying "I don't want your money, Mr. Keehl. I know how hard it is for people who care greatly for it to give some away." Snippily. The redhead, Matt Jeevas, rolled his eyes and said skeptically, "You don't want anything?" I looked to him and pointed to the drawing of myself. "You may give me this, if anything I tell you is of value."
"Deal" I heard Mello say quickly.
We then crossed the room into another section of the lab and Mello informed me that these were things they'd recovered from my staterooms. Scattered across the tables were fifty or so objects, all ranging in value. I reached towards one I recognized, my fingers trembling as I lifted the tortoise shell hand mirror, inlaid with mother of pearl. I caressed it, staring wonderingly. "This was mine," I whispered, not trusting my voice, and look over the object. "How extraordinary! It looks the same as last time I saw it…" I comment, turning it over to examine my reflection, seeing my messy black-grey hair and the wrinkles around my eyes and mouth. I don't look as old as I am, but the difference is still noticeable. I frown and place it back on the table. "The reflection has changed a bit." I say, moving on to the next thing I recognize, a silver and moonstone art-nouveau brooch. "My mother's brooch. She wanted to go back for it." I say, "Caused quite the fuss."
I made to walk away when something else caught my eye. A small silver ring that looks cheap amongst everything else, but reminds me of so many things…
"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?" Mello asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I sat down to a computer as Matt began an animation of the sinking, explaining along in time with the computers animation. "Okay," he started, taking a deep breath, "so she hits the berg on the starboard side and kind of bumps along, punching holes like Morse code 'dit, dit, dit' down the side, below the waterline, now she's flooding in the forward compartments, and the water spills over the water-tight bulkheads, from E deck, then up and up… and as the bow goes down, the stern rises up, slow at first the faster and faster 'till her whole ass is sticking up in the air, and that's a big ass, I mean, we're talking twenty, thirty thousand tons… and the hull's not designed to deal with that kind of pressure, so what'll she do?" he makes a breaking sound and gestures a split with his hands, "She splits. Right down to the keel and the stern falls back, level, but as the bow begins to sink, the stern rises up, vertical till the bow finally detaches. Now, the bow section planes away, going twenty, thirty knots when it hits the ocean floor. 'BAM!'" he did the sound of a crash along with the speakers as I watched emotionlessly. "The stern just bobs there like a cork for a few minutes, floods, then finally goes under about 2:20 am, two hours and forty minutes after the collision."
He finally finishes his long winded and colorful portrayal of the sinking with a proud smirk. "Pretty cool, huh?" he asks me. "Thank you for that fine… forensic… analysis, Mr. Jeevas," I say monotonously, "but the experience of it was… somewhat different." I stated, still looking at the screen of the computer. "Will you share it with us?" Mello asks me, getting out a tape recorder.
I rise from my place seated in one of the office chairs and look over the many monitors displaying film collected from their expeditions. One in particular draws my eye and I remember passing thru those doors many times in the short time I had been there.
"It's been… ninety nine years." I say, realizing for the first time how long it really has been.
"It's okay, just tell us anything. Anything you remember." Mello prompts and I lose my patience. "Do you want to hear this or not, Mr. Keehl?" he shuts up and nods, and I continue, "It's been ninety nine years… and I can still smell the fresh paint…" I see it now as I close my eyes and loose myself to the memories… the smoke from those huge stacks, the sounds of people all around me admiring the large masterpiece, the smell of leather in that horribly expensive automobile I had travelled in with that man… "The china had never been used… the sheets had never been slept in…" I feel the hand upon mine as Aiber helps me out of the car, "Titanic was called 'The Ship of Dreams', and it was..." I lift my head to peek from under my hat and hair to look at the monstrous ship before me. "It really was…"
...
Should have the first 3 or 4 chapters up by Friday.