Saving Sindia (Samantha Jamison Mystery Book 10)

by Peggy A. Edelheit

  Jake rested his hand on Evan’s arm. “Give it some time, son. Trust me, emotions heal with time. Have patience.”

  ...Cindy’s attack and her resulting scarred leg.

  “I’m trying, Jake,” replied Evan, looking pessimistic.

  “Stop by some evening on my bench. Better yet, tell Cindy to stop by, alone. I’ll try and talk to her, okay?”

  Evan’s face brightened. “I’d appreciate that, Jake.”

  “My pleasure. Cindy knew Charlotte too. Tell her she’d be doing me a favor instead of the other way around.”

  I could see the genuine affection they had for each other and almost felt like an intruder into something personal and private. Almost. “Excuse me while I grab some peaches,” I said, then turned my back, examining the fruit on the neighboring table, but remained within hearing range.

  Something was going on. More than emotional issues.

  Jake said to Evan. “Don’t push. She’ll come around.”

  “I’m trying to take it slow,” said Evan, speaking low.

  “You know what risks are involved, son,” he countered.

  “I’m only thinking of the future and what’s rightfully ours, Jake.”

  “But money can’t buy you peace of mind, can it, Evan?”

  “I’m willing to take that risk.”

  “And what does Cindy say about that?” Jake asked.

  “Why do you think she’s so panicky all the time?”

  “Maybe you should let it rest.”

  “She can’t let that nightmare go. And neither can I.”

  “How can Cindy move on, if you’re unwilling to?”

  “That’s not the same thing and you know it,” said Evan.

  “Long ago, I learned to let go and move on,” said Jake.

  “It’s a hard thing to ask, from both Cindy and me.”

  Jake sighed. “All I’m saying is, give it some thought.”

  “I will, but I’m not making any promises. Jake.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder and jumped, not expecting it.

  “Time for me to get going,” said Jake, smiling. “All that trash is calling me, I can hear it now.”

  I said goodbye then turned to Evan about to say something. But before I could speak, he began slowly backing away from me. “I gotta run, too. I’ll catch you on the boardwalk.”

  He was already turning away before I said, “Sure.”

  I glanced up at some squawking seagulls. They weren’t the only things lingering in the air. Apparently, so were a lot of emotional issues and possibly something more...

  I decided I’d go home and document what I’d overheard at the farmer’s market. Later I’d have an early dinner, then take a stroll on the boardwalk. My target? That Sindia gazebo just south of me. Maybe Jake would be there. My curiosity was now killing me. I had to find out what was really going on with Cindy.

  Chapter 31

  But Before That...

  I had just locked the deadbolt behind me after returning from the farmer’s market and was about to climb the spiral staircase when the doorbell rang. Intrigued, I turned back to the door. I could document in my journal all that happened later. I unlocked the foyer door and swung it open.

  Standing on the doorstep was the elderly gentleman with the invalid wife, who I’d slammed into on the boardwalk when I wasn’t paying attention the other day. Even though this was the last person I expected on my doorstep, I greeted him warmly, pleased to see him. “Hello.”

  He leaned in and handed me an open cardboard box.

  “For you, fresh from my garden. I hope you like them.”

  I glanced down at the box full of fresh herbs in small pots: Italian parsley, oregano, basil, mint...

  “But I’m the one who knocked into you and your wife,” I said laughing, but grateful. “This is so kind.”

  I was about to lean into the box to smell them when he said, “You’re the lucky one and were chosen...”

  Instantly, I jerked my hand back. “What?” I exclaimed.

  He seemed taken back by my reaction.

  “I’m being too forward, aren’t I, by offering you all this from my garden? I certainly didn’t mean to offend you.”

  His concern felt sincere, just like out on the boardwalk when we collided. So I relaxed. His word choice, a mere coincidence. Like Martha always said, I was making a mountain out of a mole hill.

  “Why, thank you, Andy, but you shouldn’t have.”

  He relaxed too. “They’re for your windowsill.”

  “I don’t know what to say about this. They are perfect.”

  “I hope you cook and can use them.”

  “Oh, I will. I love to cook with fresh herbs.”

  “Me too!” His eyes suddenly began darting about the foyer, taking in all the details, just like Pete Edwards had.

  Coincidental, or was he just admiring the interior?

  “Well, I’d better go before my Carla wakes up.”

  I shook off my usual paranoia. “How is she doing?”

  “As well as can be expected. We make it work.”

  I didn’t feel it was my place to ask further and didn’t.

  He edged to the door. “Buon appetito, mia bella.”

  I laughed, playing along. “Ciao, mio amico.”

  I locked the door again and leaned my back against it, while still holding the open shallow box of pots, taking in the aroma of the herbs. It was intoxicating. I knew just where they would go, on the windowsill in the kitchen.

  I laughed all the way up the stairs, taking inventory.

  I’m offered a penny by one man and herbs by another. Oh, and the third, collected my boardwalk trash.

  I also had a conversational date with one of them later, right after my dinner of a delicious egg omelet cooked with some of those fresh herbs.

  Life was good...

  Chapter 32

  A Talk On The Wild Side

  I flew out the door and locked it, hurrying up the ramp, and headed south toward that gazebo where Jake said he liked to sit most nights. It would be just my luck that he’d pick that night to break habit and not be there. I was still savoring my herb and cheese omelet with a fresh croissant, accompanied by a glass of Raymond Sauvignon Blanc from Napa Valley that I’d had for dinner.

  I picked up my pace, hopeful I wasn’t too late. Was I misinterpreting Evan’s and Jake’s worried conversation earlier? Jake might help make some sense out of all these bits and pieces of conversations and innuendo I might be misreading.

  In the distance, I noticed Jake sitting in the gazebo, gazing out at the ocean.

  Great, that meant we’d be able to talk alone in private.

  I approached. Without even turning to me, he said, “I figured you got yourself an earful at that farmer’s market today and couldn’t resist finding out more. Am I right?”

  “Ah, so you know,” I said, as he turned to me, grinning.

  “Why assume anything less from Samantha Jamison?”

  I wasn’t fooling anyone, was I?

  He winked. “I’ve read all your mysteries.”

  I winked right back. “I’m flattered.” Then I chuckled. “I guess my phony name didn’t work.”

  “Uh-uh. Of course, it helps that your picture’s on your back covers. But don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  “Well, for that fine gesture, I thank you kindly.”

  “Of course, you can pay me back for keeping my lips sealed, young lady.”

  I eyed Jake, smiled then sat down on the wooden bench alongside him. “And your price is...what?”

  “I need your help.”

  Now this was an interesting twist.

  “How?” I asked.

  “I’m investigating a mystery myself.”

  I arched my brow. “A mystery, huh?”

  He knew he had me and smiled slyly.

  I was instantly intrigued. “Okay, give it up.”

  Then he turned to the ocean, saying nothing further.

&nb
sp; “Come on, you’re killing me here with curiosity,” I said.

  He looked pensive. “My Charlotte was my sleuthing sidekick until the day she died. Though we felt we made progress, we never found it.”

  “Found what?”

  He kept staring out at the water. After a minute, he said, “There’s more out there, you know. Maybe lost forever.”

  “Jake, what are you referring to? I’m confused.”

  He turned to me. “Ever heard of that ship, the Sindia?”

  I recalled that sign, and of course I’d then done a quick internet search on my cell, skimming the possible mystery involving her cargo. I loved history, but hadn’t taken the time to pursue it further than that.

  “Yes,” I said eagerly, intrigued by this unexpected topic.

  Did Jake have inside knowledge, something not online?

  “This involves a golden Buddha allegedly on that ship.”

  Chapter 33

  Sindia Backstory

  Did he know that for sure?

  “Is that fact or hearsay that’s rumored out there?”

  “Do you know any of the background on the Sindia?”

  “That the Sindia shipwrecked on this beach amid much mystery about its cargo. How does a Buddha play here?”

  “That shipwreck occurred back in 1901. The Sindia was the largest cargo-carrying sailing vessel in the world. Like the sign on the boardwalk said, it was over 329 feet long.” He pointed to the boardwalk left then right. “The length went from 17th street to about 16th street: a beach block.”

  “Wow.”

  “And the deck stretched from about here to Wesley Avenue, the next block over. They say the ship was as high as this multi-storied condo building here.”

  “Sounds massive.”

  “Sure was, for that time.”

  Obviously, Jake refused to be rushed, savoring retelling every detail, but I pressed anyway. “And that Buddha?”

  “First things first. Sindia was en route to New York and lost its way in a winter storm off the coast of New Jersey.”

  I let him pace it. “It must have been some storm.”

  He pointed toward the beach. “It wrecked about a hundred fifty yards out, parallel to the beach, but pointing south in the opposite direction from where it was headed.”

  “And probably a sight to see, grounded like that.”

  “It drew a crowd of spectators and vessels the next day.”

  “I can imagine it would!”

  “That behemoth was built back in 1887 at the Belfast, Ireland shipyard of Harland and Wolff.”

  I noticed Jake shake his head at his last words.

  “Is there something significant in that?”

  “Nothing gets passed you, does it?”

  I grinned. “Hardly. ...So, what caught your eye?”

  “A few decades later, Harland and Wolff built the most famous shipwreck in world history, the Titanic.”

  “Talk about provenance!”

  “That shipyard also built the ship, Olympia.”

  “Let me guess,” I replied, trying to remember. “Another famous shipwreck.”

  “Correct. And they all had one thing in common.”

  “What?” I asked, curious what it was.

  “They all were built with the same type of rivets.”

  “Boy, you have dug deep for your facts.”

  “Charlotte and I worked tirelessly piecing this together. But that’s about all the three ships had in common.”

  “So why is this shipwreck so mysterious and famous?”

  “Because of its unique history and what happened to it afterward.”

  “Who were the main players?”

  Jake half smiled. “Ever hear of John D. Rockefeller?”

  “Of course! Rockefeller Center in New York.”

  Jake nodded. “The Sindia cost $200,000.00.”

  “Are you’re telling me he bought the Sindia?”

  “John D. Rockefeller’s Anglo American Oil Co., a division of Standard Oil Company, bought the Sindia back in 1900. Plus, Allen MacKenzie, the ship’s captain, had thirty-five years experience sailing all over the world.”

  “And the big mystery in all this is...?”

  “The rumors behind Sindia, its trip, and the shipwreck.”

  “I have a feeling those rumors play a major role.”

  Jake grinned. “Rumors of smuggling cargo to the U.S.”

  Chapter 34

  Cargo Rumors & Legend

  “Smuggling?” I repeated, intrigued even more.

  “Oh, there were rumors galore. And for good reason.”

  “Go on.”

  “It was the Sindia’s final voyage when she traveled to Shanghai to Kobi, Japan, then set sail on July 8, 1901 for her 10,000-mile, five-month trip to New York City.”

  “Sounds pretty straightforward to me,” I said.

  “Ah, but that’s where the mystery comes into play. The Sindia arrived in Shanghai soon after the outbreak of the Boxer Rebellion.”

  Being a history buff, I knew the Boxer Rebellion, was a secret Chinese organization called the Society of the Righteous and the Harmonious Fists that led a rebellion in northern China against the spread of Western and Japanese influence in that region.

  “And you’re suggesting this mystery involves that?”

  Jake nodded. “Both archaeologists and treasure hunters have since speculated that the lower cargo hold of the ship, which was never recovered because of the quick-filling seawater and sand, had contained looted items from the Buddhist temples, stolen during that rebellion.”

  “And what did they speculate was taken from them?”

  “Porcelain, jade, gold, and other valuables.” Jake then smiled knowingly.

  “I note a something else in there, am I right?”

  He nodded again. “Other legendary rumors abound.”

  “And those additional rumors are?”

  “It tells of two jade dogs and a golden Buddha among the smuggled items that were on board that fateful voyage.”

  “And what backs up those rumors?” I asked, leaning toward him.

  “The Sindia’s manifest and her crates,” replied Jake.

  “And why are they so important to this mystery?”

  “First off, the crates were loaded by E.H. Frazier. He was the acting American counsel-general in Shanghai then. The delivery was to go to a B. Ellis Co. of New York City.”

  “And why is that significant?” I asked.

  “It was believed the true destination of the shipment was to B. Ellis personally, who once worked for Frazier’s subordinate in back in Shanghai.”

  “A real web of intrigue. And the manifest part of it?”

  “The ship’s manifest listed 200 tons of manganese ore that were stored in all those crates as ballast for the ship.”

  “And ballast was the stabilizer in the cargo hold,” I said.

  “Correct,” nodded Jake.

  “So, they’d use ore for ballast and then sell it,” I added.

  “And that was what raised suspicion,” added Jake.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Manganese ore was already plentiful here in the United States, specifically in New York State where it was being shipped to. And since foreign powers were known to have looted the temples...”

  I added, “So rather than rocks of manganese ore...”

  Jake nodded again excitedly, grinning that I got it. “The crates were thought to have contained stolen art looted from China.”

  “An historic mystery that was never solved.”

  A valuable treasure that was still out there.

  Already reeled in, I had to know more.

  Chapter 35

  The Shipwreck

  After sitting there, digesting that, I finally asked, “And what about the shipwreck itself?”

  “It also plays a major role in the mystery,” said Jake.

  “How so?”

  “There are differing accounts of how it all transpired. It w
as December, winter in the Northeast. The Atlantic was rough, there being a storm that night. The Sindia was in the thick of it off the Jersey coast, battling rough seas, blustering winds, fierce rain.”

  “Makes me seasick just imagining it,” I said.

  “This trip should’ve been routine for the experienced Captain Mackenzie and his crew. Heck, they went from the Pacific Ocean in Japan then went around Cape Horn at the tip of South Africa, then up the northern coast of America toward New York. But when they reached Cape May, they got caught up in that howling winter gale, but kept going. Churning seas pounded the vessel for four days, ripping her sails and rigging apart.”

  “Then the storm spun the Sindia broadside to the beach, pointing it southward. Within hours, the hull burrowed deeper and deeper into the sand, and its steel hull, unable to support the ship’s weight, finally cracked and began to fill with water and sand. At 2:30 AM, Captain MacKenzie sent up distress signals for help. The signal flares were spotted by the Ocean City Life-Saving Station.”

  Jake paused, as though seeing it replay out in front of us.

  “Horrible,” I said, eagerly anticipating more of the story.

  “It was horrible. And after three failed attempts, the rescuers, fighting torrential rain, high waves and the bitter cold were able to bring in twenty-six of the Sindia’s thirty-three men to safety on the beach. It was a slow-go because the rescuers were only able to take seven men at a time. The conditions were horrendous.

  “The captain remained on board with six of his men until later the next day after the seas calmed down, then they left too. I personally think the captain was guarding the cargo that first night as long as possible until those rumored boats appeared to unload as much as they could under the cover of darkness before the hull began breaking apart. But then that’s just my opinion. The conspiracy theories are endless.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Oh, there were more rumors of drinking on board before the wreck, an early celebration for Christmas and everyone was drunk, which resulted in the wreck. And after formal hearings, it was determined that Captain MacKenzie had ‘failed to exercise proper and seamanlike care and precaution.’ His certificate was suspended for six months, never to master another vessel again. He later died in his native Scotland before his suspension time even ended.”