Buccaneer

Chapter 19

“Jimmy has something for us!” Dane proclaimed, scrolling through the email he’d just received from Jimmy Letson, an old friend and accomplished hacker. “I gave him a list of everything in Dad’s research to see if he could come up with any leads on Kidd’s chests.”

“And what did he find?” Bones lounged on the deck of Sea Foam with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. “I’m already bored.”

They’d met up with Charlie in a coastal town in Maine. He’d returned their belongings and informed them that Sheriff Meade wouldn’t let him post bail for, or even visit, with Angel until Monday morning. The sheriff also declined to say what she was charged with. Incensed, Charlie vowed to bring all his resources to bear on the situation. He’d been disappointed to learn that his Oak Island project was at an end, but had been downright giddy to hear of what Dane and Bones had discovered and to see the pictures they’d taken.

Now they were cruising south somewhere off the coast of Massachusetts. Matt, who had come along with Charlie, had rejoined the crew and was piloting the ship.

“He’s got a few possibilities,” Dane said. “There’s a museum on Gardiner’s Island…”

“Already checked it,” Avery said. She was seated next to Bones, drinking a cup of chai tea. “No joy.”

“Okay. How about the Maritime Museum in Port Royal?” The thought of a trip to Jamaica definitely appealed to him.

“Been there. Done that.” Avery frowned. “No offense, but I don’t think your friend has much chance of finding the Kidd chests. It’s not like I’m the first who’s tried.”

“Don’t underestimate Jimmy,” Dane said. “He’s talented and has access to some really obscure stuff.”

“Not necessarily legally,” Bones added.

Dane ran through Jimmy’s list, growing more discouraged as Avery eliminated each possibility. Finally, he was down to the final two items.

“Trinity Church, on Wall Street,” he began.

“Nope. Nothing belonging to Kidd in their archives. I’ve been there several times, and so had Dad.”

“But they just added the journal of a William Vesey.”

Avery sat up straight, her eyes boring into Dane with raptor-like intensity.

“I take it that’s somebody important?” Bones asked over his coffee mug.

“He was the first rector of Trinity Church,” Avery said. “He served there while Kidd was a member.”

“Jimmy read an email from the donor to an archivist at the church which says it includes an account of Kidd’s confession to Vesey and,” he paused for dramatic effect, “Vesey alludes to a treasure map.”

“How did he get access to their… oh, never mind.” Avery took a sip of her tea and pondered this new information. “No mention of a chest?”

“Not in the email. Jimmy would have mentioned it. But maybe in the journal?”

“It’s possible,” she mused. “I’ve researched Vesey and there’s no indication that he ever possessed a sea chest, but maybe Kidd told him where one or more could be found. It’s worth following up on. Anything else on the list?”

“It’s not specifically a sea chest, but there’s a chest connected with the Poe Museum. It once belonged to Edgar Allan Poe.”

“No connection to Kidd?” Bones asked.

“No. I guess he made the connection because I included The Gold Bug in the list of Dad’s research items.”

“Poe was a Kidd aficionado,” Avery said. “But I’ve been to the Poe Museum and there were no chests there that fit the bill.”

“So, cross Baltimore off the list,” Dane said.

“You mean Richmond,” Avery corrected.

“No, the Poe House and Museum in Baltimore.”

“What? That place is tiny. There’s almost nothing there, and definitely no sea chest.” Avery stood and began pacing.

“She’s definitely got that Maddock intensity,” Bones observed before breaking into laughter as Dane and Avery shot dirty looks his way.

“He’s added a link here, let me check it out.” Dane tapped on the hyperlink Jimmy provided and it opened to an article from the Baltimore Sun, in which an director at the Baltimore Maritime Museum bemoaned the city’s refusal to continue funding the Poe House. Dane read it over twice and saw no mention of a sea chest. “I don’t see anything here.”

Avery snatched his phone away and read the article. Frown lines appeared in her brow and disappeared almost immediately.

“It’s in the picture!” She tapped on the image that accompanied the article. “You missed it because it’s so tiny on the screen, but check it.” She held up the phone for both to see and, sure enough, a wooden chest sat on a shelf in the background over the director’s shoulder. “You’ve never seen it, but this is an exact match for the Kidd chest that Dad discovered!”

“Do you think this director guy found this chest at the Poe House and helped himself to it?”

“Could be. Even if this is a Kidd chest, unless you know what’s inside, it doesn’t have much value. I can see how someone who admires Poe and also loves maritime history could give in to temptation.”

“That would explain why it’s never been identified as a Kidd chest. As far as anyone knew, it was just another wooden chest that Poe stored his crap in,” Bones interjected. “Who knows, it might have been gathering dust in an attic somewhere until this guy found it.”

“I think they’re both worth checking out. Which one do we follow up on first?”Avery asked.

“New York’s on the way to Baltimore,” Bones said.

Dane nodded.

“Wall Street here we come.”

“Questioning her will not get us anywhere.” Locke shook his head and closed the door behind him. He had hoped Bonebrake’s sister would be a reliable source of information, but it was not to be.

“Are you certain? I could use some more… intense techniques.” Shears ran his hand over his shaved scalp. He wasn’t prone to the excesses that made Fisher so erratic, but efforts were not needed.

“No. She told me everything she knew, which is not much.”

“With all due respect, where’s the harm in making certain?” Shears didn’t quite meet his eye as he spoke. Clearly, he had more on his mind than gathering information.

“Torture only motivates the victim to tell you whatever they think you want to hear.” Locke kept his tone patient, though frustration was wearing on him. He dreaded his next call to Morgan. He needed a breakthrough. “Besides, if we keep her largely intact, we might possibly make use of her.”

“How do you mean?” Shears asked.

“Never mind. Just keep an eye on her and let me know when she’s fully awake. She and I are going to make a telephone call.” He left Shears to guard the cell. Dane Maddock had stolen the prize out from under his nose, but now Locke had a bargaining chip.

Returning to his office, he logged onto his computer and performed a search on Angelica Bonebrake. He had not expected to find much, perhaps a social networking page from which he could glean a few bits of useful information, but the pages of hits that filled his screen took him aback. The girl was a professional fighter and a minor celebrity.

He stroked his chin and smiled. He did not yet have a treasure to give to Morgan, but this girl’s unique set of skills would make her a perfect plaything for Morgan’s little games.