Bluewater Quest

by Charles Dougherty

  "Big deal. I'm starting to think maybe the Saudis cooked this whole thing up just to waste our time."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "How the hell is Everett supposed to find a campsite that was used almost a thousand years ago? They don't even know what island it was on, if there even was such a place."

  "Correction, Bert. We don't know what island it was on. For all we know, Everett has an exact location — or the Saudis do."

  "Yeah? Then why hasn't Tehran told us? They've got everything the Saudis have."

  "And what makes you think that?"

  "Ed said they did."

  "No doubt that's what Ed was told. That doesn't make it so. The Saudis probably know we've got somebody on the inside. They're being cautious, to make sure we can't get there first and upstage them."

  "So, you think Everett knows where he's going? All this is just for show? Or to throw us off?"

  "He might."

  "Is that why you and Ed were talking about snatching his wife?"

  "That would be one way to find out what he knows," Leila said.

  "Then why not do it?" Bert asked.

  "They could be feeding him information a little bit at a time," Leila said. "If we snatch her and he doesn't know, then we've blown it."

  They walked along in silence for a few minutes.

  "Why wouldn't they just tell him where to find whatever it is they're looking for, if they know? Get it over with?" Bert asked.

  "Credibility might be one reason," she said, looking over at him. "They want him to believe he really found the site; it'll make him a true believer. Then he'll be more persuasive. Let's face it. Nobody's going to want to believe that the Moors discovered America before Columbus did. Nobody outside the Muslim world, anyway."

  "Yeah, I can see that," Bert said. "So, the harder it is to find, the more likely people are to believe it's real? That's what you're saying?"

  "Pretty much."

  "Okay. You said that was one reason they might be dribbling out the information to Everett. You got another one in mind?"

  "Security. Say they suspect we've penetrated their operation. Then the less Everett knows, the better, from their perspective. He can't tell us what he doesn't know."

  "You mean, if we were to kidnap his wife, or one of the women?"

  "Exactly. Look, Bert, you need to cut out all this 'what if' bullshit and focus on the mission."

  "Focus on the mission? But that is the — "

  "No! Our mission is to follow Everett and see what he finds. Period. Not try to second-guess the Saudis, or our own leadership. Let's stop here. Now shut up and let me see what they're doing."

  Leila had been checking the view over her shoulder as they walked. She raised the camera and put her eye to the viewfinder. There was a whirring sound as she zoomed in and focused.

  "Perfect," she said, snapping a picture. "Dani and Liz are on Vengeance and the Everetts are poking around on shore. He's got a walking stick of some kind, stirring up the debris."

  She handed him the camera. He watched the Everetts for several seconds.

  "You don't suppose he thinks that's the camp, do you?" he asked.

  "I don't know."

  "There's lots of old stone walls and stuff," Bert said.

  "Yeah. But remember the exhibits we just saw at the museum. That's all part of what was built after 1870. Remember the sketches they had?"

  "I wonder if he's doing this to throw us off, then?" Bert asked.

  "He doesn't know about us, Bert. Sometimes I wonder about you. Come on. Let's head back to Aquila. Maybe Ed got something new from Tehran."

  14

  "How was it?" Liz asked, as the Everetts came down the companionway ladder. Dani had just taken the dinghy ashore to pick them up while Liz started dinner. "Find anything exciting?"

  "No, nothing exciting," Rick said. "Lots of interesting bits and pieces of junk there, but nothing that looked especially old. The oldest stuff we saw dates from the commercial whaling days. But it was still fascinating. My guess is that island's always been uninhabited."

  "Why's that?" Dani asked, coming below deck after squaring away the dinghy.

  "No source of fresh water and no signs of permanent habitation," Rick said.

  "The small islands are dry," Dani said. "On the bigger ones, there's water, but even then, it's scarce compared to what we're used to. It's jokingly called Caribbean gold, a lot of times."

  "How do people manage?" Shellie asked.

  "Nowadays, there are desalination plants," Liz said, "but it's expensive to run them, so water's still precious. Before that, people had cisterns to catch rainwater."

  "On a completely different subject," Liz said, "let's talk about tomorrow's trip."

  "To Soufrière?" Rick asked.

  "Well, that's what I wanted to discuss. While Dani was picking you up, I learned that some friends of ours from Dominica are going to be in Martinique for the next few days, and you had mentioned something about visiting someone at the Musée Départemental d'Archéologie Précolombienne."

  "Yes, I did. There are several little museums in Martinique that I'd like to see. That's the one that I thought might be most helpful, but there's also a private collection that has some of the correspondence I mentioned."

  "Between those missionary priests?" Liz asked.

  "Yes," Rick said. "What about your friends?"

  "You might like to meet them while they're there. He's the one who painted that sunset you admired, Shellie."

  "The guy called Sharktooth?" Shellie asked.

  "Yes. He and his wife are staying with some mutual friends of ours in Ste. Anne. Their house in Dominica was damaged by the recent hurricane. They'll only be there for a few more days, and both of them have a wealth of knowledge about the islands. He's well-acquainted with the whole of the Eastern Caribbean, and well-connected to a lot of government officials, too. I thought if you were interested, maybe we should sail straight up to Martinique while they're there. We can double back to Soufrière and Rodney Bay."

  "That could actually be really helpful to me," Rick said. "I was wishing that I could see some of the pre-Columbian exhibits in Martinique before we got serious about trying to find the site where the Moors stayed."

  "How long a trip is it from here?" Shellie asked.

  "It's a long day," Dani said. "Around a hundred miles. Say twelve hours, give or take a little. We can leave early and get in around sunset. Liz and I would think nothing of it if it were just the two of us."

  "How early would we have to leave?" Shellie asked.

  "Dani and I are usually up at dawn," Liz said, "so we could sail out of here and you two can sleep in. You won't miss much, and I'll serve breakfast in the cockpit under sail whenever you get up. It'll be fun. That should put us in Ste. Anne around sunset."

  "Sounds perfect," Rick said. "What about it, Shellie? You okay with it?"

  "Sure. It sounds great. And I can't wait to meet somebody named Sharktooth."

  "You'll like him," Dani said.

  "I'm sure I will. Do we have time for a quick shower before dinner, Liz?"

  "Sure. I'm just getting started. Take your time."

  "I heard you get the computer out while I was in the shower before dinner," Shellie said. She and Rick had excused themselves after Liz had served dessert. Shellie wanted an early evening, so that she could make the most of tomorrow's sail.

  "Yes, I did, but I just downloaded everything. I figured I'd look at it after dinner."

  "You mean now?"

  "Well, I don't want to keep you up if you're ready to go to sleep."

  "I'm okay; it's early yet. I was just feeling a little tired after the day, and I am going to try to wake up when they do. I'd like to see them sail out of here without the engine. That's what Liz said they'd do. Did you get any interesting email?"

  "I don't know. There's one from the foundation that said something about a revised translation."

  "How could you stand to wait?"
r />   Rick shrugged. "It's just work; I'm not complaining, mind you. It's a free ride, even if it's probably a wild goose chase. If nothing else, I'm learning some things I didn't know about the Caribs. That's worth it, to me."

  "Still feeling that way? About the Moors?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm surprised you took this grant, Rick. It seems unlike you."

  "Well, I was honest with the people at the foundation. They know how I feel about the likelihood that the Moors were here first; I told you that."

  "I know you did. It just seems … " She shook her head.

  "Intellectually dishonest?" Rick asked.

  "Well, that may be a little strong."

  "That's actually the phrase I used during the interview. They said that was fine; that a healthy skepticism on my part suited their purpose. 'It will keep everybody honest,' is the way they put it."

  "You really think it didn't happen?"

  "I won't say it didn't. I just think it's unlikely that we'll find anything to prove it did. It's a seriously small needle in a huge haystack. But, longer odds have paid off, and I'm going to give it my best shot. Give me a second to skim this email, okay?"

  "Sure."

  "Hmm," Rick said. "That's interesting. They got somebody to go over some other documents in the archive. Something that they found when they were re-filing stuff. It mentions a cave in the mountains near the site. The Moors were using it for storage before Khashkhash sailed back to Spain."

  "A cave?"

  "That's what it says. I don't think of this as a part of the world where you find caves. It's pretty new, geologically. But who knows?"

  "If there aren't many caves in the islands, that might narrow the search," Shellie said.

  "It might, yes. I'll have to ask Dani and Liz about it tomorrow."

  "Or their friend, this Sharktooth. Liz said he knew all the islands really well, remember?"

  "Yes. Well, if you're getting up at dawn, let's turn out the light."

  "G'night, Dr. Everett," Shellie said, as he put away the computer.

  "Goodnight, Dr. Everett," he said, turning off the light by their berth and giving her a kiss as he crawled into bed.

  "How'd you find out Sharktooth and Maureen are in Ste. Anne?” Dani asked, as Liz turned out the light.

  "I thought that would be a good reason to go there tomorrow."

  "The Everetts thought so, but — "

  "I called Sharktooth to see if he could meet us there," Liz said.

  "So you cooked this up? I'm impressed."

  "Actually, I didn't. I was going to, but they were already there."

  "Was their house damaged?" Dani asked.

  "A little. They had some water damage from a roof leak."

  "That doesn't sound like a reason for them to go to Martinique," Dani said.

  "No, but it made a good story, I thought. They went mostly because Maureen wanted to go shopping with Sandrine. And Phillip and Sharktooth are doing a little fishing."

  Dani chuckled. "Do they know you blamed their visit on the hurricane?"

  "Yes. I didn't want them to blow my cover."

  "Why not just tell the truth?"

  "I wanted to make this seem time-sensitive — like as soon as their house is fixed, they'd be leaving. I didn't know Rick was going to be so eager, and I worried that he and Shellie might just say they'd rather wait."

  "And you always seem so innocent," Dani said.

  "I am. That's why I can get away with stuff like this."

  "You've been spending too much time with Connie. She's a bad influence on you." Connie Barrera was a friend of theirs who had the skills of a born grifter.

  "That's not so, Dani. I didn't mislead Rick and Shellie. Not about anything important, anyway."

  "Of course not," Dani said. "Go to sleep, if your conscience will let you. We've got a long day tomorrow."

  15

  "Well," Shellie said, "if it's not Rip Van Winkle himself!"

  Rick stood on the companionway ladder rubbing his eyes, looking out at the three women drinking coffee. He stifled a yawn. "Did I miss breakfast?"

  "No," Liz said, pouring coffee from a thermal carafe into a mug and handing it to him. "We waited for you."

  "I thought the engine would wake me up when you were raising the anchor."

  "They showed me how to do that under sail," Shellie said, from behind the helm. "It's really cool, Rick. You should have seen it. Can we do that again?" she asked.

  "Sure," Dani said. "It's easier in an uncrowded anchorage, though. We'll have to pick our spot."

  "How long have we been sailing?" Rick asked.

  "A couple of hours," Shellie said. "That's St. Vincent you see over the starboard quarter."

  "Over the starboard quarter, huh," Rick said. "You're even starting to sound like a sailor."

  "Oh, I'm hooked, Rick. We need to learn to do this."

  "You're well on your way," Liz said. "Come on up and sit down, Rick. You're blocking the ladder; I need to get breakfast going. Some of us have worked up an appetite."

  "I'm starving," Shellie said. "I raised the mainsail; I had no idea how much of a workout it is to sail. Forget about going to the gym."

  "Thanks for waiting breakfast for me," Rick said, with a chuckle. He stepped out into the cockpit, bracing himself with one hand as he made way for Liz to go below.

  "While Liz is fixing breakfast, maybe you could tell us a little more about your friends we're going to meet," Shellie said. "All you told us about Sharktooth before was that he's an artist."

  Dani laughed. "He'd be embarrassed to hear himself described as an artist. He does paint, but it's just a hobby for him."

  "But you said his wife had an art gallery," Rick said.

  "That's right, she does. But Sharktooth's interests are wide-ranging. He's an entrepreneur with his fingers in all kinds of things."

  "How did you come to be friends?" Rick asked. "Did you meet them in Dominica?"

  "I've known him as long as I can remember," Dani said. "He does business with my father — has since before I was born."

  "You said Mrs. Walker's husband was a partner of your father's," Rick said. "But you never mentioned what your father did."

  "Does. He's still active; he's a broker of sorts. He buys and sells heavy equipment internationally. He and his partners can provide skilled manpower, too. Back when I was little, I guess the islands were a ripe market. Or at least, more so than now."

  "You said your dad lives in Paris," Shellie said.

  "He does, now. Back then, he was still living in Martinique. He had two partners in the islands. One was Mrs. Walker's husband; I called him Uncle Leon, but I barely remember him. Sharktooth was the other one.

  "The two of them were active in the Organization of Eastern Caribbean States back then. They had a lot of high level government contacts in the islands that had been British colonies. They hadn't been independent countries for long, at that point. I think things were quite a bit less settled than they are now.

  "The other man you'll meet in Ste. Anne is Phillip Davis. He was involved with them, as well."

  "So he's somebody your father knew from when he lived in Martinique?"

  "Well, no. Phillip lives in Martinique now, but back then, he was in the U.S. Army. He made a career of it. He was a military attaché for a lot of his career, and I think he was a conduit of sorts for development funds for some of the governments down here, so Papa and his partners worked with him. That was when I was too little to pay much attention to what they were doing.

  "When Phillip retired from the military, he went into business with Papa, too. And there's another partner. My godfather, in fact. He lives in Miami.

  "Phillip settled in Ste. Anne when he retired from the partnership. He married a woman who's a senior officer in the French customs service. Phillip's younger than the others; he was like a much older brother to me when I was in my teens."

  "Is that who Sharktooth and his wife are visiting in Ste. Anne, then
?" Shellie asked.

  "Yes. And you remember us telling you about Kayak Spirit?"

  "The boat you took Liz out on when you first met?"

  "Yes, that's it. Phillip owns Kayak Spirit. She's an interesting old boat, what's called a Carriacou sloop. She was built in Carriacou, which is a little island that's part of Grenada. The man who built her was a smuggler; from the '50s until he died, he smuggled rum and cigarettes in and out of the French islands. He was based in Petite Martinique, another island, also part of Grenada. Petite Martinique has been a haven for smugglers from back in the early colonial days. Some people say it still is."

  "Why is that?" Rick asked.

  Dani shrugged. "I don't really know. I guess because it's useful for everybody. Evading inter-island customs duties is sort of a local sport, I think."

  "What kind of tall tales are you telling now?" Liz asked, as she set a tray laden with scrambled eggs, saltfish patties, and fried potatoes on the bridge deck.

  "Dani was just telling us a little bit about Sharktooth and Phillip and their wives," Shellie said.

  "Shellie, I'm going to switch on the autopilot for you so you won't have to steer while you eat," Dani said. "Come on out here with the rest of us."

  Liz folded out the cockpit table and passed plates to everyone. "You'll enjoy all of them," she said. "They're like Dani's family, but they always make me feel right at home. Nice people."

  "I'm excited to meet them," Shellie said, sitting down beside Rick.

  As they tucked into the food, a silence fell over the cockpit. After a few minutes, Rick pushed his plate away.

  "Wonderful breakfast, Liz," he said. "Thanks."

  "I'm glad you liked it. Can I get you anything else?"

  "No, thanks. But while we drink our coffee, I wanted to ask if either of you know of any caves in the islands."

  "Caves?" Dani asked, shaking her head. "Only a few. They aren't really a feature of the islands. Why do you ask?"

  "I got an email from our sponsor last night. They found some more documents related to the Moorish site. There was a cave of some sort near the camp. They used it as a storehouse."