Solomon Key

Chapter 13

“Well, that settles that,” Bones said as they exited the museum and headed back out onto the streets of Colonial Williamsburg. “The museums are useless.”

Maddock grimaced. They’d visited all the museums that had within their collections any artifacts excavated from the gaol site. No ring had been among the items that had been recovered. What was more, someone else had already been there asking about Black Caesar.

“The chick everyone described…” Bones began.

“It’s got to be Nomi.” The words were bitter on Maddock’s tongue. Of course Nomi had already investigated the spot where Black Caesar had met his end.

“On the positive side, she obviously didn’t find anything while she was here, or else she wouldn’t have headed down to Florida to search for the headquarters.”

“Agreed. I just wish they’d had more definitive information on Caesar.”

“The thing about knowing the Old Testament is true makes it sound like he definitely had Solomon’s Ring,” Bones said.

The last curator they’d spoken to had shown them a journal entry by a minister who had visited Caesar in jail before his execution. The minister had been surprised by Caesar’s eagerness to discuss scripture and to pray together. Knowing the man hailed from Africa and had spent relatively little time in America, the minister had assumed Caesar would ascribe to some primitive religion that did not look askance upon the depredations of pirates. Caesar had assured him that he knew for certain that the Bible was true. Or at least, the Old Testament. Despite his apparent reservations about the Gospels, he’d repented of his sins and permitted the minister to pray for his salvation in the name of Jesus.

“And then there was the last part where he says the only thing he had of any value had been ‘entrusted to good hands.’ If he’s talking about the ring, that means he gave it to someone. But who and when?”

“I think we should ask the man himself.” Bones bobbed his eyebrows a few times and grinned impishly. It was an odd look for the powerfully built man.

“You can’t be talking about a séance.”

“Why the hell not, Maddock? Your angles have been dead ends. Worst case, it turns out to be total crap and we have a good laugh about it over a few beers afterward. It’s not like we’re going to fly out tonight.”

Maddock searched for a reason to refuse. “All right. I guess it’s fine for a lark. We might want to have a few drinks before instead of after. Otherwise it’s going to be tedious.”

“You know what bugs the crap out of me, Maddock?”

“Besides rednecks?” Maddock quipped.

“Rednecks don’t bug me; they piss me off. Different level.” Bones directed his glare at a corpulent man on the other side of the road wearing a John Deere cap and a flannel shirt that barely constrained his ample gut. “What bugs me is how often I have to remind your cynical ass of all the weird and inexplicable things we’ve seen. Can you really question anything supernatural?”

“Ghosts don’t make sense. Who we are is purely made up of cognitive processes: we think, we feel, we respond to stimuli, we gather knowledge. ‘Spirit’ is just a word we use to describe the totality of a person. When the body dies, all of that stops. There’s no supernatural being housed inside the flesh.”

Bones heaved an exaggerated sigh. “And a cup that belonged to Christ couldn’t bring people back to life. Oh, wait. We know otherwise. Do I need to go on?”

Maddock knew he wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine. Do you still have Kendra Gill’s number?”

“Actually, I called her earlier and set things up.”

Maddock let out a groan. “Of course you did.”

“It’s going to be cool. We’ll go on one of her ghost tours and then dinner. You know what the best part is?”

Maddock knew the answer but he gave a slow shake of his head.

“She sounds hot.”

Maddock couldn’t deny that Kendra Gill was, in fact, strikingly beautiful. She was a tall, lithe woman in her late twenties. She wore her chestnut hair tied back in a simple ponytail, emphasizing her creamy complexion and big brown eyes. They found her on the sidewalk in front of Williamsburg’s famous Wren Building, chatting with a pair of tourists, but she looked up and smiled as Maddock and Bones approached.

“You must be Bones,” she said to Maddock, shaking his hand. “After all, you said you’d be the handsomest man I’d see all day.”

“Actually, I’m Maddock,” he said over Bone’s mumbled, “Oh, come on.”

“So tall, dark, and grouchy over here is Bones?” Kendra shook Bones’ hand. “Don’t feel bad. You’re the second-handsomest of the day.”

“What’s that you always say?” Maddock asked his friend. “Second place is first loser?”

Bones glowered at him. “And what’s that you were saying about ghosts?” he countered. “Something about them not making sense?”

“That’s absolutely true,” Kendra said. “The spirit world doesn’t make much sense, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

“Don’t tell Maddock that.”

“All right. I’m sorry I stirred things up,” Kendra said. “You’re both very handsome boys,” she said in a perfect imitation of an indulgent mother. “Tour’s about to start. Follow me.”

Maddock and Bones exchanged glances as they followed along behind her.

“You know what they say. Blonds have more fun.”

“Screw you, Maddock.”

Kendra took a moment to gather the tourists and collect their tickets. As the sun set behind the trees, she began the tour. She opened with a brief overview of the ghosts of Williamsburg. The Wren Building, which stood behind her, was considered one of the most haunted. It had served as a Revolutionary War hospital, had seen three major fires, and housed on its bottom floor the crypts of several important figures from Virginia’s history.

They moved along to the George Wythe house, where footsteps could be heard on the empty stairwell and the spirit of its namesake returned every year on the anniversary of his death to press an icy hand to visitors’ foreheads. Next they moved along to the Peyton Randolph House, haunted by the ghost of a Civil War soldier. As they continued on, Kendra pointed out sites of interest and shared anecdotes about sightings made by visitors and employees.

When they reached Gallows Road, so named for the iron gibbets that had once stood on this lane, Kendra segued into the story of Blackbeard’s final days, and the capture, trial, and execution of his crew. She mentioned two pirates by name: Caesar and a pirate named Israel Hands, who had received a last-minute, and most unexpected, royal pardon on the eve of his execution.

She next guided them along Hangman’s Lane, ending up at the gaol. The gaol, she explained, was a prime site for paranormal activity, due to the suffering and death that had taken place on this site. Up ahead, just outside the oldest part of the cell, stood a small group of people carrying flashlights.

“There’s actually a paranormal investigation going on right now,” Kendra said, lowering her voice. “We can observe them for a little while if everyone’s interested.”

“Hell, yes,” Bones said.

A few in the tour group glanced nervously at the gaol but most bobbed their heads eagerly. Cautioning them to remain silent, Kendra led them to a spot twenty paces away from the investigative team.

As they watched one investigator placed what Maddock assumed was a recording device on the sidewalk a few feet from the door to the jail. Another investigator placed two small flashlights, one with a blue filter over the lens, the other red, on the step in front of the door. After extending an invitation to any spirits that might be present, a short blond woman, who seemed to be the lead investigator, began posing questions.

“If someone is with us, please turn the blue flashlight off.”

Nothing.

She repeated the question and a wave of surprised whispers rippled through the tour group as the blue flashlight flickered.

“If you were a prisoner in the gaol, please turn the blue flashlight off.”

A long pause and then another flicker. The woman to Maddock’s left gasped.

“What do you think of that, Maddock?” Bones asked quietly.

“I think she chose the flashlight with dirty terminals or a weak battery.”

He’d spoken much too softly for the investigator to hear, but she seemed to share Maddock’s train of thought.

“If you were a pirate, please turn the red flashlight off.”

Nothing. She asked again before moving along. Finally, when asked if the spirit had ever killed someone, the red flashlight blinked.

“Guess that battery’s weak, too,” Maddock said.

“It hadn’t flickered once before that question,” Bones said.

They observed for a few more minutes and then Kendra motioned for them to resume the tour. As they headed back to where they’d started, she invited tour guests to share any experiences they’d had with the supernatural. When no one responded, Bones stepped in. He told the story of a ghost that patrolled a river crossing on the Cherokee reservation. Maddock had heard the story before, told by Bones’ grandfather, but Bones told the story as if he’d seen the ghost. His story broke the ice, and Kendra flashed him a grateful smile as other tourists shared their own ghost tales.

By the time the tour ended, Maddock thought he’d heard enough accounts of bumps in the night, strange chills, and orbs in photographs to last a lifetime. It was only with effort that he managed a smile and a few words of support when Kendra asked him what he thought of the tour.

Bones had reserved a table at Christiana Campbell’s Tavern, and Kendra spent the short walk there trying to convince them that she wasn’t an eccentric or worse. She’d begun working part-time in Colonial Williamsburg while pursuing a degree in American Studies at William and Mary. Her love of folklore and interest in the paranormal had led her to the Ghost Tours.

“I know I could do more with my degree, but I love what I do and I don’t really need the money. My grandmother left me a small house in town and the income from her investments is enough for me to lead a simple life, which is all I want. At least for now,” she finished as they took their seats in the tavern.

“I’m into the paranormal, too,” Bones said. “Maddock’s a skeptic at heart but he’s more open-minded than he lets on.”

“Fair enough.” Kendra bit her lip, looked down for a moment. Her next words came out in a rush. “I’d love to solve mysteries, have adventures. Maybe have a television show like Jo Slater. Ever heard of her?”

Bones covered a small cough and nodded.

“We’ve seen her show,” Maddock said.

They placed their orders and while they waited for their meals, it was Bones’ and Maddock’s turn to share their stories. They talked about their time in the SEALs and discussed their treasure hunting partnership, omitting, of course, their more sensational experiences.

“That sounds so cool,” Kendra said. “I guess that’s why you’re interested in Black Caesar.”

“That’s right,” Maddock said. “My father was a scholar of pirate lore and was particularly interested in Caesar.”

Kendra leaned in and lowered her voice. “If you’re looking for Blackbeard’s treasure, you might want to look elsewhere. The word on the conspiracy boards is that it was found several years back and the government covered it up.”

Now it was Maddock’s turn to suppress a cough, though the fact he’d been taking a drink at the time made it difficult.

“You all right?” Kendra laid a hand on his forearm.

“Fine,” he croaked, dabbing his watering eyes with his napkin. “Just went down the wrong way.”

“That’s what she said,” Bones blurted.

Kendra tilted her head. “I did?”

“It’s a quote from a…never mind. What can you tell us about Caesar.”

“I’ve brought all that I have on him. After my first contact with him, I tried to learn as much as I could about his life so that I’d have more questions to ask him during subsequent sessions. It’s not a great deal of information, but here it is. I’ve also included transcripts of our conversations, if you can call them that.” She took a sheaf of papers from her drawstring bag and handed them to Maddock. He handed half of them to Bones and they reviewed them while they ate.

Maddock’s crab cakes were a little short on meat, but delicate and flavorful, and served in generous portions. Bones opted for the fried chicken, and proclaimed it, “pretty damn good for white people food.” The highlight, in Maddock’s mind, was the sweet potato muffins, which were light with just the right amount of sweetness.

Kendra’s papers were a letdown. The information she’d gathered was nothing new, and even if Maddock believed that her transcripts were the records of actual conversations with Black Caesar, there was nothing there to point them to the resting place of the pirate’s ring.

Nevertheless, the food, drinks, ambiance, and the company of an attractive woman lightened his mood. Even Bones seemed to have gotten over his disappointment that Kendra hadn’t fallen head-over-heels for him. Over after-dinner cocktails, the three laughed and swapped stories of unexplained phenomena.

“I think I’ve found a couple of kindred spirits, here,” Kendra said. Under the table, Maddock felt her hand rest on his knee. He flashed a furtive smile but didn’t move away.

“We love all this mystery crap,” Bones said. “But right now, I’m feeling a close connection to that serving girl over there.” He winked at a buxom redhead who smiled back at him.

“That’s Sandra,” Kendra said. “I’d introduce you, but there’s no need.”

“She got a boyfriend or something?” Bones asked.

“No, she’s just…how should I say this? She doesn’t allow our culture’s prevailing attitudes toward sex to inhibit her in any way.”

“I’m in love. You got the check, Maddock?” Before Maddock could answer, Bones stood and made his way over to where the costumed serving girl waited.

“I think they’re meant for each other, at least for a few hours,” Kendra said, watching as Bones and Sandra left the tavern together.

“That’s about as long as Bones can keep a relationship going,” Maddock said, laughing.

A contemplative silence fell between them. Kendra gazed at Maddock as if she were waiting for him to speak. He suddenly found himself very aware of his mouth. Why did it feel so dry all of a sudden? He reached for his glass but found it empty. He felt Kendra remove her hand. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he think of anything to say?

“You haven’t said much about my research,” Kendra said. “I guess it wasn’t helpful?”

“No, I mean, yes. It was informative.” Did his voice always sound like that? “It’s just that we’re looking for something specific that belonged to Caesar.”

“Like what?” She smiled. “If it’s some big secret, I promise not to tell. I’m a good girl…when I need to be.” The smile she gave him made him feel hot all over. Couldn’t their server have at least filled his water glass?

“It’s a ring,” he managed. “A very old ring.”

“Must be valuable.” She rested her chin in her hand and leaned closer. The twinkle in her eye said she knew exactly the effect she was having on him, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

“It’s valuable for its historical significance.”

“I love history.” Kendra ran a single, lacquered fingernail along his forearm.

Myriad thoughts ran through Maddock’s head in that instant. His recent breakup with Angel. Isla’s betrayal. Memories of his late wife. His ex-girlfriend Jade telling him he was too selfish to ever have a lasting relationship.

But one voice drowned them all out. It was that of Bones.

Maddock, sometimes you think too much.

He leaned in and planted a firm kiss on Kendra’s lips. He felt her respond, heard a soft sigh. He gently broke the kiss and they sat there, nose to nose, smiling.

“Took you long enough.” She sounded a bit out of breath.

“I’m worth the wait.” What the hell? Now I’m even talking like Bones.

“That remains to be seen. But first things first.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“First, pay the check. Then we’re going to have a talk with Caesar.”