The Wreck

by Landon Beach

  Hutch broke in, “Did you say chests, Tyee?”

  “I’m getting there. The captain—his first name started with an L but the rest was illegible—questions Rousseau and makes for an un-named island on the horizon. The ship anchors and Rousseau is marooned with only one of his chests. It appears he gets some revenge, though. Right after he is marooned, a fall gale hits. As the ship gets farther away from the island, Rousseau says the seas become enormous and at one point he sees the ship’s masts tip over and touch the water. The weather temporarily subsides about an hour later, and the ship is gone. The gale picks back up again and storms for four days straight. He says he has found shelter but doesn’t know what will become of him. He ends the letter saying that he hopes he will be rescued and his eleven stolen chests returned to him.”

  “Twelve chests total,” Hutch announced.

  Tyee stood up and walked over to Hutch, handing him his notes. He downed the glass of rum and looked at his watch. It was almost eleven o’clock. “You ready to head out, Mickey? We’ll let these gents toy with the letter.”

  Mickey threw back the last of his own rum and got up. “Sounds interesting, Hutch. Let us know if you put anything together.”

  Hutch handed the paper to Nate and walked with Tyee and Mickey toward the dock. Nate said goodbye and received two waves in return. Their voices faded as they disappeared down the stairs to the dock.

  Nate said it out loud. “Twelve chests.” He picked up the calculator and shuffled through papers until he found the sheet with Hutch’s calculations for one chest.

  He calculated for twelve:

  2,700 in VG ($250) = $675,000.00 x 12 = $8,100,000.00

  2,700 in XF ($1,000) = $2,700,000.00 x 12 = $32,400,000.00

  Hutch returned and peeked over Nate’s shoulder.

  “That’s a lot of dough that was never carried on the Great Lakes,” he snorted. “Equal partners if we find the rest?” Hutch said extending his hand.

  Nate stood up. “Equal partners,” he replied and the men shook hands.

  “A fifty-fifty split of either of those two numbers would set me, and you and your honey up for life.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Nate said, peering out the large windows at the black water in the distance.

  “Believe it,” Hutch said.

  “My father had a knack for storytelling. He used to sit with me on my bed at night when I was a boy, telling me of the gold hiding beneath the surface of the Great Lakes. I would have my flashlight on and his face would glow as he spun yarns of divers looking for treasure and the perils of the deep,” Nate said. “I wish he were here to see this.”

  “Like life, the sea gives and takes away, Nate. Always has, always will. We don’t have a sunken ship or the other eleven chests, but we do seem to have proof that gold was carried,” said Hutch.

  “It’s enough for me. Anything beyond this is gravy. I’m not holding my breath for the other eleven, but Brooke is going to flip when she finds out what we may walk away with from just one.”

  “Then, we’ve got our conversation starter for dinner at Lucille’s place tomorrow night.”

  “I’d love to stay and talk about everything, the gold and the letter, but I better go.”

  “I’ll let you know if I find anything out. If the eleven remaining chests seem like a dead end, we’ll go down to the Hampstead bank tomorrow and see what the procedure is for the loot.”

  Hutch walked Nate to the front porch and duct taped a flashlight onto Nate’s handlebars.

  “Take it nice and slow,” Hutch said.

  “I will,” said Nate, turning to go. He stopped the bike and looked back, “We might have the answer to one of our questions though.”

  “And which one would that be?”

  “If the ship did wreck and spilled her guts all over the bottom, it could explain how the coin washed up on my beach.”

  “Just maybe,” Hutch said.

  Nate put his right foot back on the pedal while keeping his left foot on the ground. He thought about all the gold that could be out there for a moment, and then started to pedal again.

  ✽✽✽

  Hutch watched as the bike vanished into the woods. Excitement rose from his stomach all the way up to his eyes. There was only one ship that he knew of that was lost during that period. If he was right, it would solve one of the oldest shipwreck mysteries in the world.

  If they could find it, they’d be a part of history, which was important to some people—verified their existence or profession—but for Abner Hutch, finding it meant taking something back from the sea.

  But, before he hit the books, he had a phone call to make.

  38

  As Nate pedaled around the final turn before reaching the clearing, he could see the lights from Lucille’s porch. He braked and the bike came to a stop just short of the wooden post. He turned off the flashlight and began walking the bike toward the porch. He was surprised to see two figures sitting in the wicker chairs: Lucille—and Brooke.

  Brooke leapt off the porch, and he dropped the bike as she rushed into his arms.

  “I love you, Nate,” she said and held him like she hadn’t seen him in years.

  “How did—”

  She kissed his mouth.

  Their lips parted and she hugged him again. “I missed you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “I missed you too,” he said, and they held hands approaching the porch.

  “This is better than anything I see on T.V. these days,” Lucille said. “Now get up here and have some coffee.”

  “How did you end up out here?” Nate said.

  “I called Lucille,” Brooke said. “She told me about the chest and the coins. Incredible!”

  “Now I can see why you’re so torn coming out here day after day, Nate,” Lucille said while they sat down, “having to leave someone this pleasant.” She poured each of them a cup of coffee.

  Brooke smiled. “Lucille was just telling me about how she had invited us to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Glad I didn’t have to wait until then to meet you,” Lucille said. “I’ve been askin’ about you for a few days now.”

  “Oh, have you?” Brooke said looking at Nate with a smile.

  Nate lifted his coffee cup to cover his face, then peeked around the side.

  A voice from the end of the porch turned their attention. “You’ve got a full house tonight,” Hutch said.

  They all rose like the President had entered the room.

  “You back here again?” Lucille said.

  Hutch stepped onto the porch, carrying a backpack. “And who might this be?” he said reaching out his hand to Brooke.

  “Brooke Martin,” she said shaking his hand.

  “Not a bad man you’ve got here,” Hutch said pointing at Nate.

  Lucille pointed at Hutch’s backpack. “Gift for me in your bag?”

  Hutch laughed. “Only if you like books about French currency, shipwrecks, and history.”

  “I’ll pass,” Lucille said. “Cup of coffee, Abner?”

  “Might want to make another pot. Lots of readin’ to do tonight.”

  Brooke began to rub Nate’s leg. “Well, we’ll get out of your hair,” Nate said.

  “Don’t let me run ya off,” Hutch said.

  “No, we need to be getting home,” said Brooke. She put her arm around Nate. “I have what I came here for.”

  “A late dinner tomorrow night, kids?” Lucille said.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Nate said, then he turned to Hutch. “Call me tomorrow if you find something?”

  “I’ll call you anyway,” Hutch said.

  Lucille couldn’t hide her smile.

  Nate and Brooke walked to the Jeep and drove off into the woods. When the house was out of sight, Brooke said, “Stop the Jeep.”

  Nate did. “Is everything okay?

  Brooke kissed him hard and began to lift his shirt up. “Not yet,” she said.

  ✽✽✽

&nbs
p; Hutch sat on the davenport in front of the phone once more. Lucille took her station in the rocker. There was no music in the background this time, just a ceiling fan. He took out the piece of paper and dialed the number.

  “Hello?” Melanie answered.

  “It’s me,” Hutch said.

  There was no answer back, but Hutch could hear her breathing into the phone. “Melanie, I have some things I want to say and all I’m askin’ is that you hear me out. If you still don’t want to communicate, it will be hard, but I’ll respect your decision.”

  Again, nothing back, but the breathing was still there.

  “I’ve made my share of mistakes, and unfortunately, many of them have been with you. Starting when you were young, I wasn’t there for you as much as I should have been. I had made a commitment to my country, and looking back—”

  Lucille nodded as if saying: you’re doing fine.

  “—I know it must have seemed like I was putting that in front of my family. Your mother, God rest her soul, ran the show for both of us and I talked myself into believing that you were getting everything you needed from her. That was wrong. I don’t regret my service, but I do regret not explaining to you that you and your mother were both more important to me than my service.”

  “Oh, Dad,” Melanie broke in, sniffling.

  “I want to see you. I need to see you. I want to pick up those grandkids and never let them go. I want to get to know your husband Jim better. I—” he clinched his fist trying to hold his emotions off for one more second “—love you. Please forgive me.”

  He heard more sniffling on the other end, and his eyes welled up. Then he heard, “I love you, Dad. I have needed to hear those words for so long.”

  “I needed to say them,” Hutch said, regaining his composure.

  “We want to see you.”

  “I would like that,” said Hutch. “You know that California is not my speed, but if you’ve got an opening in your schedule I’ll be there pronto. And your family is always welcome to come here—on my dime.”

  “I’ll take a look and get back with you in the next couple of days, okay?”

  “That’ll work,” Hutch said. After a long pause, he added, “I won’t take up any more of your time tonight. Give those grandkids a bear hug for me and I’ll look for your call.”

  The call ended and Hutch fell into Lucille’s open arms. She said, “See. You should never give up.”

  39

  “Hello?” Nate said.

  “Good morning,” said Hutch, a bounce to his voice that Nate had never heard before. “Interested in searching for a shipwreck today?”

  “So, you found something last night,” said Nate looking at his watch; it was nine o’clock. “Late start this morning?”

  “Not really. I was up until after three, sort of slept for an hour, and then had coffee with Lucille. After that, I had to gas up Queen and rig the towfish winch. However, it sounds like you just woke up.”

  “Don’t know why I even asked.” Nate shook his head.

  “Ah, don’t worry, it’s fun to get called out and then bombshell someone back,” Hutch laughed.

  “You’re going to have to teach me how to do that,” Nate said.

  “Takes years of experience,” Hutch said. “But we’ll see what we can do.”

  “Fair enough,” he said. Nate thought about transportation. Since he was leaving the Jeep—Brooke was going to relax from their night of athletics in bed and later hit the play that the Hampstead Players were putting on at the high school—he would have to bike the entire way. Then a thought came to mind. “I probably won’t be out there until ten. I’m bringing Speculation over.”

  “That’ll work. Mickey’s driving to Lucille’s so there’ll be plenty of room at the dock. Tyee has to work, so it’ll be you, me, and Mickey out on Queen today. Give me a shout on the radio when you round the bight and I’ll come down and help you tie up.”

  “What were you able to find out?” Nate said.

  “I’ll wait until everyone’s here to explain. You’re a teacher; I’m sure you don’t like having to repeat things more than once.”

  “Very true,” said Nate. “On my way.”

  He hung up the phone and packed his gear. Grabbing his boat keys, he kissed Brooke on the cheek.

  “I’m heading out,” he said.

  She turned over. “Did he find anything?”

  “He’s waiting to tell me, must not be too earth-shattering.”

  “Okay,” Brooke said, “just give me a call when you’re ready for me to come out for dinner, babe.”

  “Will do. Have fun at the play,” Nate said.

  “The Hampstead Players are superb,” she said. “They deserve their own playhouse.”

  “Oh, I’m sure someone is schmoozing one of the beach mansion owners for the funding,” Nate said.

  ✽✽✽

  Hutch sat behind the desk in his library drinking straight from a thermos of coffee. Nate and Mickey were each sipping on their own cups and sitting in the leather chairs.

  “I’m going to break this into two parts,” said Hutch. “First, I’ll tell you what I found out about our French friend Jean La Rousseau, and then I’ll talk about the ship that supposedly marooned him.”

  Nate and Mickey set their cups down and listened.

  “First, some background. We have to go back to Louis the Fourteenth’s seventy-two year reign. Louis’s father was Louis the Thirteenth and his mother was Queen Anne. Anne had miscarried four times and after twenty-three years of marriage people doubted that she would ever produce an heir. It probably didn’t help that her husband liked young men, either. One night, because of weather and the King’s quarters not being ready, Louis was forced to stay with the Queen and they conceived. The birth was considered a miracle or an act of God. Sort of like you finding that coin, Nate.”

  The men laughed, and Nate raised his cup of coffee in a toast. Hutch continued.

  “Even King Louis and Queen Anne agreed that the baby’s birth was a miracle and named their son, Louis-Dieudonne, meaning Louis, the gift of God. However, since he was born so late in the marriage, he was only five years old when his father died and he inherited the throne. Hence, the picture on the 1643 coin is him as a child. When a king inherited the throne at such a young age, a Regency would take over until the king was old enough to rule. So, from age five until his early twenties, the country was run by the regent, sometimes his mother but mostly a Cardinal named Mazarin. As a young child, Louis saw that he could rely on almost no one, because he believed—and rightly so—that people were only out to weaken his power or take it away. When he finally became king, he removed all the aristocrats from his council and came down hard on the nobles. This may or may not have had an effect on what the person who was in charge of Louis’ finances, Surintendant Nicolas Fouquet, did. In fact, it’s generally accepted that Fouquet was bent and would have stolen from Louis anyways. Fouquet’s power was based on the classic strategy of making his job out to be so complex and confusing that only he could understand it. Besides, the king had more important things to do than swamp himself in the inter-workings of his empire’s wealth. For a while, Louis let Fouquet believe that he was happy with his work. However, he secretly had people investigating where all of his money was going. Meanwhile, Fouquet was using the advantages of his position and taking money from the Treasury. Fouquet was wetting the beaks of all the nobles shunned by Louis. Of course, he was also having a state of the art chateau built on his estate of Vaux, which still stands today. It all came to an end when King Louis imprisoned Fouquet for life in September of 1661 and did away with the political position.”

  “Did he ever get his money back?” Nate asked.

  “Right after he put Fouquet away, Louis came out swinging at the nobles. There was a large operation to get back as much of his money as possible, but it would take years to discover who everyone was that had benefited from Fouquet. Some probably never got caught.”

  Hu
tch reached down to the floor and picked up one of the two books that Tyee had given him.

  “And that is where I stopped reading the other night. So, when we saw Jean La Rousseau’s name on the bottom of the letter, it didn’t click,” said Hutch while opening the book to a page he had earmarked. “Last night, I found out that Jean La Rousseau was one of the few nobles who left France to go explore the New World—and a member of Fouquet’s party. It says La Rousseau left his estate in 1677. The date is important because that was the year nobles who wanted influence in the government were selling—or at least moving out of—their glamorous chateaux to occupy small residences in Versailles called garrets,” Hutch said.

  “Do you think La Rousseau was on the take from Fouquet?” Nate said.

  “Hard to imagine someone in his own party who wasn’t,” said Hutch. “We have no proof, but why he would up and leave with such a big portion of his fortune doesn’t smell right—especially because he did it during the year when the nobles were moving to Versailles.”

  “He probably went unnoticed during Louis’ initial attempt to recoup,” Mickey said. “After all, he left sixteen years after Fouquet was imprisoned—maybe his name was on the long list to check out and his number had been called.”

  “Where do you think he ended up?” Nate said.

  “Who knows,” said Hutch. “Maybe someone will find his bones buried in a cave one day.”

  “I guess we’ll never know how Daniels found his chest on Big Sanisstey, either,” Nate said.

  “Safe assumption,” Hutch said.