Treasure of the Dead

Chapter 13

The ripe smell of fish hung over the market that dominated the waterfront in the town’s modest commercial district. The four of them wandered through it, Fabi pointing out local delicacies to Bones and Willis while Maddock remained singularly fixated on their current objective: finding the elderly fisherman who was reputed to know all of the local legends and lore.

Upon arriving back at town and securing the boat, they had first visited the library. Fabi had explained to the librarian that they sought information about a sailor from long ago, and the librarian had referred them to an individual she said they would find at the fish market.

Far from an industrial scene like the seafood exchanges of Tokyo or even Havana, the market here was casual and mostly sedate. A line of crude wooden stalls were erected near the water, with a few fishermen still unloading the day’s catch. They unloaded nets and ice chests from dories and pulled up to the beach, haggling with the vendors in good-natured fashion. A gaggle of locals perused the offerings, which were often placed in burlap sacks for the trip home. Besides many types of fish, there were also oysters, clams, crabs, lobster, and shrimp on display.

Maddock eyed the fishermen he passed, but most of them, while adult males, were not what he would call elderly. He and the others traversed the length of the market without seeing a likely candidate. He turned around, looking for anyone who might help him find an elderly fisherman knowledgeable about local maritime history. He was about to admit they would just have to start approaching people at random when he spotted someone lying down on the deck of a weather-beaten fishing boat. The vessel lay right off the beach, in water so shallow it was barely floating, and its sole occupant reclined on a pile of nets. An old man.

“Old man and the sea, there?” Bones gave a subtle nod of the head.

Maddock nodded. “Fabi…” He looked over toward the boat, indicating that her language skills would likely be required. He asked Bones and Willis to wait in the market so that they wouldn’t appear too intimidating, four people boarding the boat at once.

“No problem,” Willis said. “We’ll keep an eye on you from here.”

“Maybe keep an eye on some of these shrimp, too.” Bones began chatting up a seafood vendor, pointing to the tasty crustaceans, while Maddock and Fabi waded out into ankle deep water until they were in a position to board the fishing boat.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” Maddock asked in a low voice.

“She said it was Jean-Claude Panier. I’ll do the greeting, you just smile and look friendly.”

“Got it.”

Fabi ascended the short boarding ladder and said something in Creole. The old man, who wore only a pair of rolled-up trousers stained with fish blood, and whose hair and beard were stark white, rose to a sitting position atop his mound of netting. He answered back in the same language while pointing to the vendor stands on the beach.

“He thinks we want fish,” Fabi translated for Maddock. She turned back to the fisherman and said something else, at the end of which the man waved them aboard. Maddock followed Fabi onto the deck of the old boat, which reeked of fish and saltwater and fuel. Maddock smiled and nodded to Panier, who nodded in return but did not bother to stand up.

Fabi spoke at length in Creole and then the man’s eyes seemed to light with recognition. He said some words in Creole with a raspy voice that had experienced much rum over the decades, and then Fabi turned to Maddock.

“He says he has heard a story of a ‘mad sailor’ who claimed to know the location of a shipwreck treasure — a very valuable one with many coins — that locals have searched for extensively but never found any trace of.”

The old man nodded at Maddock when Fabi paused, as if to assert that what he had said was true even though he could not understand the translation. Panier then added some more detail, which Fabi again passed on to Maddock.

“Now he says that either the sailor was lying or the shipwreck must be a long way from here, because if it was anywhere around here someone would have found it by now.”

Maddock and Fabi exchanged a glance while the fisherman remained silent, watching them.

“Ask him if he knows anything else… any other details at all.” Maddock made eye contact with the man as he said this, to show that he was serious, that this was an important matter to him. The mariner flexed his toes in the netting while he appeared to think about it. At length, he nodded and spoke with deliberation.

“There is one more thing,” Fabi relayed. The old man spoke again and Maddock watched Fabi’s eyebrows rise. Then she translated.

“He says that, according to local teachings, a priest came to exorcise the sailor of his demons. He persuaded the French to let him take the sailor with him. They went to the cathedral in Hinche, here in Haiti.

Maddock nodded. It was something to go on. He said thank you to the man in French, then turned to Fabi and told her they should get going. But before they could leave, the old fisherman raised a hand and spoke rapid fire Creole. It didn’t sound like a routine Thanks for stopping by, glad I could be of help, kind of thing, so he looked to Fabi for an explanation.

“He cautions us to watch out, for the evil walks the trail of the lost treasure.”

Maddock nodded. “We’ve heard about the demons.”

The fisherman apparently recognized the last word, because he quickly uttered one of his own while shaking his head.

Fabi almost whispered the words to Maddock. “He says they’re not demons.”

“Then what are they?”

The old man repeated the key word without awaiting Fabi’s services.

Zombii.