Hunt for the Lost Treasure (Order of the Black Sun Series Book 17)

by P. W. Child

  She knew he was serious. He had too much on the line to be bluffing.

  Chapter 11 – Reunion

  While Purdue was stuck in traffic on his way to JFK, Nina was on a plane that was just about to land in Nova Scotia.

  As she was crunching down on peanuts, her only savory treat in-flight, Nina was utterly oblivious to the fact that she was a missing person. Blissfully unaware of the silent war that waged in her wake, she looked forward to seeing Joanne Earle again after so many years. She remembered the rocky start to their friendship where Nina's intolerance for self-conscious girls made her a super bitch in the eyes of the Earle-girl, as she called Joanne back then.

  It was only after the plump, but attractive Joanne punched Nina's roommate in the gut for sleeping with Nina's boyfriend that the historian and the Earle-girl became close companions for the latter part of their graduate year. They were two very different women, yet they got along swimmingly after the historical punch in the main dormitory of the university, something Nina was happy to rekindle.

  On top of the reunion, Nina was extremely curious about the possible find that could point to an obscure legend that Alexander the Great had sent various armadas out during his respective campaigns to hoard most of his plunder. Although he was not exactly a persona grata to her, he was still one of the most powerful figures prevalent in history. She had even published a thesis during her second year at Edinburgh University analyzing the mighty Alexander's psychological vehemence toward military greatness. Other than that, the man was not all that great in her opinion. As a matter of fact, Nina had once stated that, like Genghis Khan, Alexander the Great was only a few chalices of apathy away from Galigula, leaving the son of Olympias on the less-than-great scale.

  “Dr. Gould, we should be touching down soon,” the attendant told Nina.

  “Thank you,” Nina replied, closing her edition of Ghostly Tales and Legends of Newfoundland and Labrador. “Do you know how long the flight to Goose Bay is, by chance? I'm not sure if it would be better to stay in Halifax overnight before flying through.”

  “Oh, that flight is less than two hours, but,” she looked at her watch, “given the hour, I would personally wait until morning. Unless someone is waiting at the airport there?”

  “No,” Nina smiled. “I think I'll take your advice and head on through tomorrow morning. Ta.”

  It was a good idea too, for back at Goose Bay things were getting tense as well. The annoying know-it-all gym teacher had a hundred-and-one opinions as to what had happened to the poor woman who's remains Lisa had happened upon.

  “Oh God, shall we call CSI?” Joanna mumbled to Pam as he laid out yet another theory of how the woman must have died. “I'm sure they are missing important clues that Sherlock here could fill them in on.”

  Pam just shook her head and sipped at her too hot coffee. Lisa was still in shock, sitting quietly next to the two female teachers and, of course, the loudmouth Nathan who had a plethora of metaphors to joke with. The body had been collected by the coroner after the local police had secured the crime scene. The teachers correctly estimated that the corpse was quite old, although only missing persons research would be able to reveal her identity and the circumstances of her disappearance.

  But their long weekend had otherwise gone on unperturbed by any further grisly mysteries, and fortunately for the teachers, the holidays were due and they could relax. Joanne had already contacted the principal to notify him that she would be staying on in Goose Bay for the rest of the holidays to meet an old friend with whom she wished to catch up. She effectively made it sound innocent enough that nobody would give her decision a second thought.

  Only she knew that she endeavored something far bigger, far more monumental, and she was going to do it along with a world-renowned historian she knew would not accept anything at face value. If Nina Gould declared the gilded piece genuine, you could bet your life that it was so. In her excitement, Joanne wished she could tell Pam, but the truth was that Pam simply would not appreciate the magnitude of the matter. It wouldn’t be a big deal to her, sadly, and Joanne was left to keep her own secret – at least until Nina arrived.

  She could not contact Nina since the last time they’d spoken, having gotten in touch purely by a stroke of luck. But after she had given the successful historian all the details of her position, Joanne knew Nina would keep her word and get there as soon as possible.

  By the next day she was not disappointed. After the school group and the detestably annoying Mr. Spence had departed, Joanne rented her two-bed cabin for another three days at double rates to accommodate Nina too. Being left alone in the peaceful ambiance of the lake was blissfully lonely. It played on Joanne's emotions between feeling abandoned here in the wilderness and favoring the solitude away from constant questions and having to maintain composure at all times.

  Quiet, apart from the bird songs and occasional call of wildlife, draped itself over Joanne where she sat near one of the boat houses. In her hand she had the golden medallion she’d unlawfully procured from the dead woman. Perplexed by how she’d found it, Joanne tried to figure out what would have made the woman swallow the piece. There was only one clear reason for such a desperate act, in Joanne's opinion, and that was for it not to be found on her person at any cost. This item was so important that the woman would rather choke on it than deliver it. Teachers and prison guards knew these things better than anyone.

  Countless times she herself had had to search students for weapons or suspected stolen items which would be hidden in the oddest places; and the more desperate the holder, the more elaborate the hiding place.

  Nina touched down at Goose Bay Airport in the late morning and headed to the holiday camp where Joanne Earle was waiting anxiously to let her in on something amazing. Even among all the zeal of the history teacher from Labrador City, Nina tried not to set her heart on it being a prize from the Macedonian warlord's personal chest of treasure. She had been disappointed before by relics that had seemed like dead ringers for the real deal and was then left feeling foolish and empty when they were proved false. So this time she elected to remain skeptical until she could find proof to feel otherwise.

  “Nice outpost, Grizzly Adams,” Nina remarked as she came strolling up behind Joanne's crooked frame, hunched over to wash the coin in the lake. Joanne was sitting on the jetty with her bare feet dangling in the water as she scrutinized her prize. When she heard that heavy Edinburgh accent behind her, her heart jumped and she swung around with a huge grin. “Nina Gould! I can’t believe you actually made it!” She pulled her feet out of the water and tucked the coin back into her jeans pocket to give the petite historian a proper hug.

  “Bullshit,” Nina teased, “you knew full bloody well I would come.”

  Joanne laughed, ecstatic to be at the receiving end of Nina's aggressive affection again after so many years. She took a step back and looked at the pretty woman she once knew. “My goodness, you look fantastic! And that is not an obligatory platitude. You…you have muscles, Nina. Fuckin' hell, what have I missed?”

  Nina flexed playfully. “Long story. Almost kissed the Reaper, so I had to hit the weights to heal faster and better, you know? Next thing I knew I was hooked. And you have not aged a day, Earle-girl. I bet you have been avoiding marriage, right?”

  “Like the plague. You?” Joanne asked as she relieved Nina of her suitcase and started walking toward their cabin.

  “Aye, of course. Jesus, I can’t think of a greater punishment on a great mind than the confinement of concubine duty. I’m glad to see you have not succumbed,” she laughed at Joanne's quirky expression at the concubine remark.

  “No, I have a life, thank you. Speaking of which,” the teacher started. “I believe you’ve been making waves in the academic world since 2012 or so, hey?”

  “Why do you say that?” Nina frowned, wondering which one of her adventures had made it all the way to Canada's gossip store.

  “I’ve read Sam Cleave's second book.
Oh my God, what a roller coaster you’ve been on while on those expeditions with him and that explorer…what's his name, the guy who died during the last excursion?” They’d turned the corner to the front door of their cottage before Joanne realized that the dead guy was one of Nina's closest friends. She stopped in her tracks and pursed her lips together with regret. “Oh shit, Nina, I'm so sorry.”

  “For what?” Nina shrugged. “People die every day and we have to accept it. Especially people like Dave Purdue. He died loving what he did and he had no regrets. Besides, I don't think of him as gone for good, you know? It’s as if he’s still around.”

  Nina could not help but feel bad for her nonchalant manner about death, particularly because she knew he was not lost to her. She felt ashamed, not only for lying to Joanne, but for pretending to grieve while others in the world, at that very moment, were not fortunate enough to pretend.

  “That’s a wonderful way to deal with the loss,” Joanne said. “I'm sure he would have loved to be here right now, to help us get to the bottom of this trinket and go looking for its origin. That’s if it’s authentic.”

  “Oh aye,” Nina smiled, “he would have done anything to be here right now, I'm certain.”

  By the time Nina got settled in and had unpacked her basics, the day had worn on into mid-afternoon. She was anxious to examine the relic, so they sat down at the breakfast nook by the kitchenette's window. The view was magnificent through it. Dark green towering trees rocked soundly in the breeze, ushering the rolling clouds across the lakeside. Even the water displayed rarely more than a ripple across its mirror where ducks and geese gathered in the afternoon coolness. At that moment, the only signs of other people were a few strewn water toys and a few odd pieces of clothing hung up to dry. Nobody was in sight.

  Being free from prying eyes, the two women deemed the time right to check out the coin and determine if it was genuine. Joanne placed it on the smooth wooden surface of the nook, allowing the eastern light to illuminate it against the timber background. Her eyes stayed glued to Nina's face to ascertain the result, but Nina's poker face revealed nothing at first.

  She looked at Joanne and asked, “Do you have a good blazer, Miss Earle?”

  Joanne frowned. “Why?”

  Nina smiled, “Because you are about to be famous. Almost as famous as Alexander the Great!”

  Chapter 12 – Target Acquisition

  Purdue, having abandoned sleep for over twenty-seven hours in order to make his way to Oban, found himself utterly moody and starving by the next day. All who knew him would attest to his almost unshakable cheer, his perpetual joviality, and other positive attributes stemming from a comfortable life of wealth. This short fuse and intolerance was completely out of character.

  Seven hours in the clouds had taken its toll on him and he had only allowed himself two hours' sleep between The United States and Ireland. Looking like hell on legs, Purdue could feel his demeanor fall when he came aboard the Manannán to start the slower, longer leg of his trip to keep away from the security cameras of airports. He hoped that the Irish Sea would be kind enough to remain benign during his journey to Campbeltown so that he could catch up on much needed sleep.

  Safely in his cabin, Purdue missed home. He missed his house, the historical gem, Wrichtishousis, now somehow in the aegis of the British Secret Service along with foreign archaeological agencies. He was confounded by the involvement of MI6 in his affairs. Apart from his connection to the Secret Service only by way of his friend, Sam Cleave, Purdue could not connect the dots between his fugitive status and Military Intelligence. Of course, he’d previously stepped over the legal lines of international heritage sites, but that was hardly military in nature?

  He was also frustrated because he knew he could not protest or question the ludicrous seizure of his estate. After all, according to Scottish Law's Presumption of Death Act of 2013, Purdue had a whole seven years to resurface before the court could grant an order to issue a death certificate. Even then, only his own attorneys and holding companies' boards would have the authority to process his respective papers that constituted any form of passing on properties and business rights.

  This was but one skin scratch in a whole bucket of crabs he would have to tend to once he was safe from prosecution and finally ready to climb out of his crypt. To Purdue's relief, the captain and crew of the Manannán, a large charter yacht carrying only a handful of passengers per trip once a day, were not the adamant types that insisted their passengers participate in socializing. They were just there to ferry their paying customers up the Irish Sea toward the port at Campbeltown, not to babysit. He was overjoyed that he could just disappear below deck and sleep until his alarm would wake him an hour short of his port of call.

  Not only would Purdue be resting properly for the first time in days, he could do so without concern. Here on the boat there were only a handful of people and there was no threat of unexpected strangers showing up of whom he may have to be wary. He could relax. He could try not to think the unthinkable – that Nina had been taken by someone nasty and that Sam did not care; that he, Purdue, was all alone in his quest toward vindication and not neglected by his friends. With these damning thoughts infesting his uncertain mind, Purdue fell asleep without even trying. In a moment all these dreadful possibilities had faded in favor of replenishment, rest, and God knows, security. It would take him another two days at least to get to Nina's home, so he made good use of the down time.

  ***

  “You will not believe this, darling,” Maria told Beck when she brought him his apricot ice tea in bed. “Finally I have some good news for you.”

  He wanted to sit up out of curiosity, but the fury of depression due to his problems of late objected and he only acknowledged her with a groan. Maria put the glass down and turned the clock radio to face him. It was late in the morning already.

  “Actually, I have two good bits of news for you,” she smiled. Now he had to react. “What news is that, Maria? Really, I have to know.”

  “That's what I thought. Come see this. No, even better come hear and see this,” she whispered.

  “Have you fed the housewife yet?” he asked, moving like a sloth on a bad day to grip his ice tea. “I don't want her to waste away while we figure out what to do with her.”

  “I gave her something to eat, okay? Now, come see this,” she persisted. Given Maria's fear for her partner's temper, it had to be something great for her to prod him incessantly without apology.

  “Oh for Christ's sake, what is it?” he frowned.

  She kissed him on his cheek and grinned. Stroking his head, she whispered, “It is something that more than makes up for the…Nina accident.” She chose the phrase carefully. Insinuating that he was at fault again could start a time-wasting detour of an argument and she did not want him to miss the opportunity. This time Maria had really spurred Beck on and he started moving faster.

  “Where? What did you get?” he asked, flinging the covers off of him.

  “I might be mistaken, but from our live feed from last night, I believe we don't need to get Dr. Gould anymore, because...” she presented the computer monitor that was surveying Nina Gould's home.

  Beck's eyes stretched at what he saw on the feed. “When was this?” he asked unnecessarily, as his eyes examined the time and date information on the bottom right of the screen. He looked at Maria.

  “David Purdue? No, fucking, way.”

  “Yes way! If you hurry up you can still make it while he is inside, love. You can deliver the big fish without having to worry about trying to fix the little fish problem,” she advised.

  “I love you, baby,” he said, grabbing the Scots-Italian brunette's pretty face in his hands and placing a deep, hasty kiss on her lips. “I fucking love you!”

  Jonathan Beck wasted no time in getting dressed and retrieving enough money from his cupboard safe to travel back to Oban at the speed of light. This time he took a gun, just in case Purdue was armed. Normally M
aria would warn against it, as she was all too familiar with her boyfriend's temper and what could go wrong during an altercation, but she understood better his plight now that she knew what it was like to be on the radar of such a dangerous society.

  When he was ready to go, Beck stopped to think.

  “What’s wrong?” Maria asked from where she was seated behind the monitors. She had her headphones on, with the left slightly off her ear so that she could hear Beck.

  “What was the second news you had?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

  “That one can wait,” she replied. “It’s not urgent, just a juicy footnote regarding Nina Gould's whereabouts.”

  He scoffed, “I couldn't give a shit about her location now, babe.”

  “Unless she left Oban in a hurry because she was called out to check out something that could make her richer than God?” she teased him. He cocked his head suspiciously. Maria was remarkably confident about her information. “Her landline tap,” she gave away a little. “A conversation took place…that we recorded,” Maria grinned, hardly containing her glee. “And I know where she headed to investigate a possible trail to treasure.”

  “Big deal. There are thousands of claims every year of people who think they found treasure,” he shrugged.

  “My darling,” Maria said slowly for dramatic effect, “the woman who called her thinks it could be the treasure of…Alexander the Great!”

  “Seriously?” he gawked. Maria nodded excitedly.

  “So once you’ve collected the Purdue money from Karsten, we can travel across the sea to join the esteemed Dr. Gould to lead us to it, right?” she suggested.

  “What?” His face exhibited ridicule at her small goals. “I say we deliver Purdue to Karsten, collect the money, and then get MI6 to pay us for information on the whereabouts of both the Black Sun bastard and their missing rich boy. That way we get paid more and we get rid of two flies, you know?”