Hell Ship

CHAPTER 10

“I want to go with you,” Alex announced. “I want to help you find the medallion.”

The request surprised Dane. “A few hours ago, you said you didn’t want to be involved. Why the change of heart?”

Before she could answer, their server, and attractive young blonde, arrived to greet them

“Ever had Scurvy?” the girl asked.

They had settled into a corner table at The Mayflower, a cozy riverside public house built in 1550, reputedly the oldest on the River Thames. According to local lore, in 1620 the famous ship which had brought the Puritans across the Atlantic to their new home in the Americas, had pulled up to the dock and taken on some of its passengers who were waiting at the pub, before sailing on to its more noteworthy homeport at Plymouth. Dane was fascinated with the nautical décor and the historic theme, but his primary reason for choosing the pub was that it was the kind of place where three Americans could lay low for a while without attracting too much attention. During the train ride from Hertfordshire to London, and subsequently as they traversed the city looking for a refuge, there had been no sign of pursuit. Nevertheless, Dane was not about to relax his vigilance.

“Scurvy?” Dane feigned a look of horror as he considered the server’s question, but knew from a glance at the pub’s listing in London A to Z, that Scurvy was the name of The Mayflower’s signature house bitter ale.

“I take Vitamin C everyday just to prevent it,” deadpanned Professor.

The girl rolled her eyes, but before she could launch into her well-rehearsed explanation, Dane said, “Let’s have three pints of Scurvy, and a plate of chips.”

As she departed, Dane turned to Alex and repeated his question. “So, what’s changed?”

“Nothing. I wanted in all along. What I said back there, that was just the panic talking back there. Everything was happening so fast, and people were shooting at us.”

It was an adequate explanation but Dane sensed that she was holding something back. “You know, we sort of skipped over the proper introductions earlier.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Kind of seemed like there were more important things to take care of.” She stuck her hand out. “Alex Vaccaro.”

Dane took her hand and gave it a gentle shake. “And you’re a historian? But you said the Templars aren’t your area of expertise.”

“Not even close. I’m getting my Master’s in Twentieth Century history, specifically military history, World War II.”

“So that’s how you got involved in all of this. Researching the Nagata Maru led you to Hancock.”

The server arrived with three tankards, each brimming with foam and dripping brown ale onto the table surface. They all took long drinks. Dane found the flavor interesting — mellow, bitter, and slightly fruity. It wasn’t Dos Equis, but it wasn’t bad.

“I was working with a writer,” Alex continued. “Don Riddell, doing research on a book about the hell ships. Are you familiar with the term?”

Professor couldn’t resist a chance to show off his encyclopedic knowledge. “The Imperial Japanese Navy commandeered ocean liners and cargo freighters to transport their POWs to forced labor camps. The conditions for the prisoners were deplorable. They crammed hundreds, even thousands of men onto those ships — stacked them like cordwood. No food, no water, barely even any fresh air. Disease was rampant.”

Alex nodded. “But the worst part was that the ships themselves were often targeted by American forces, who didn’t realize that they were carrying Allied prisoners. It’s estimated that over 18,000 Allied personnel were killed that way.”

“From what I’ve heard of the Japanese labor camps,” Dane remarked. “That might have been a kinder fate.”

“Perhaps. But that wouldn’t have been much comfort to the crews of the ships and torpedo planes responsible for sinking them. And it didn’t play well in the news back home; it still doesn’t. That was going to be the subject of Don’s book; examining the impacts of the deaths these POWs.”

“Was?”

“Don is dead. Murdered.” The admission seemed to take something out of her. She took a deep draught of the ale before attempting to continue. “He…they…whoever…tried to kill me, too. That’s why I ran.”

“You’re safe now.” Dane reached out and took her hand again. “How did you make the connection to Lord Hancock?”

“This all started when Don requested some material from the National Archives; recently declassified documents pertaining to the sinking of several hell ships.”

“Why would those documents be classified in the first place?”

Professor cleared his throat. “I know a little about the hell ships. There were several instances where Allied command knew ahead of time that the ships were carrying POWs. They had broken the Japanese codes, knew the routes and cargos, but if they had let those ships pass, the Japanese would have realized their codes were compromised, and it would have been back to square one.”

“They did their best to cover it up,” Alex added. “The truth came out of course, but it’s one of those ugly subjects that no one likes to talk about. That’s the subject of Don’s book…or would have been.”

Dane waved his hand as if trying to wipe a chalkboard clean. “Focus. Declassified documents. What next?”

“Someone killed Don and tried to kill me.” Her voice had become loud and strident enough that a few heads in the pub turned to look in their direction. She took another sip of ale, and then continued in a more subdued tone. “I ran. Hid out for a while until I could figure out what was so important in those records. That’s when I discovered the discrepancy about the Nagata Maru. And this message.”

She took a folder from her backpack and shuffled out a sheet of paper. Dane read it and handed it back to her. “So you decided to play Nancy Drew? Follow this clue and see where it leads?”

“If I’m Nancy Drew, then you two are the Hardy Boys. We ended up in the same place.”

“Fair enough.” Dane savored a sip from his tankard.

“How do the Templars fit in?” asked Professor.

Dane gave a quick synopsis of what he had overheard in the chapel.

Professor considered this for a moment. “Templars are the bogeymen of conspiracy theories. They’re believed to be involved in everything from controlling the world economy to hiding the Lost Ark of the Covenant.”

“Is any of it true?”

Professor spread his hands. “The Templars were real. We know that much for sure. They fought in the Crusades, established what was probably the world’s first international bank, and were for a time, more powerful than any of the European kingdoms of the day. Incidentally, there are long-standing rumors of a Templar presence in Hertfordshire, so there’s that. But a lot of the rest is gossip, innuendo, or just plain crazy.

“They may have discovered the holy relics of the Temple of Solomon. Maybe they found the Holy Grail. Maybe they possessed the lost Gospel of Jesus Christ or were the guardians of the secret bloodline of Jesus and Mary Magdalene. Or maybe those are all just rumors, spread by the Templars to increase their power, or by their enemies to make them seem more dangerous. Again, all we really know for certain is that they did exist for about two hundred years, and that they were destroyed by the church in early 1300’s.”

“Hancock talked about a secret treasure that survived the destruction of the order. Could that be that true?”

Professor shrugged. “Anything could be true. The Templars were very wealthy before their dissolution, and not all of that wealth has been accounted for. There is a rather persistent story about a hay wagon that left the Templars’ Paris headquarters shortly before their leaders were arrested, so it is possible that that some of that wealth might have been spirited away. But I’m skeptical about a secret society of underground Templars lurking in the shadows for six hundred years.”

“That chapel looked awfully authentic,” said Alex.

“Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s entirely possible that this guy Hancock believes he is a real Templar. Everything he says might be true, up to a point. Trevor Hancock might really have a medallion screwed to his skull. Maybe this thing has been in their family for several generations. Secret societies were all the rage in the eighteenth and nineteenth century, especially among nobility. They were easy pickings for con artists.”

“But no treasure?”

“If you knew how to find a treasure like that, would you just sit on the information? Keep it a secret as part of some big mythical plan?” Professor shook his head. “I wouldn’t. And I don’t think the old Templars would have either. They would have either invested it in a comeback, or more likely spent it all just trying to stay one step ahead of their enemies.”

Dane wasn’t ready to give up until he’d turned over every rock. “What if it’s more than just treasure? What if we are talking about the Holy Grail or the Ark? Or some source of power that can change the world?”

“Or destroy it,” added Alex.

“Hey, I’m just the trivia expert. Like I said, I don’t know what’s true. But if I had to bet money on it, I’d say that if there was a Templar treasure, it’s long gone.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, drinking their Scurvy and munching on chips sprinkled with salt and malt vinegar. Finally Alex spoke up. “Someone in Allied Command was a Templar. Had to be. That’s the only explanation. They knew what Hancock was carrying and couldn’t risk the Japanese finding it. Don’t you think that’s significant?”

Dane looked at Professor. “She makes a good point.”

He didn’t add that there was also the matter of their bogus search for the Awa Maru, personally ordered by the current Secretary of the Navy. It wasn’t hard to dismiss Edward Hancock and his cronies as a group of self-deluded dilettantes, playacting at being Templars, but that didn’t explain why the United States Navy had been so intent on making Trevor Hancock disappear during World War II, or why they wanted him found now.

“So what’s our next move?”

There was only one answer. “We head back to that shipwreck. This won’t be over until we find the mysterious missing Lord Hancock.”