“Worth a lot?” I guessed.
Chet shrugged, “Maybe $1,800. Oh, do you see this one here? Have you ever seen what an authentic Spanish doubloon looks like?”
The four of us crowded around the display. Sherlock and Watson, content to be near us, settled to the ground to wait. Chet produced a set of keys, tapped in a code on a keypad on the side of the case, and unlocked the cabinet. He reached in to retrieve the gold coin.
“Umm, shouldn’t you be wearing a glove?” I hesitantly asked.
“Protective case,” Chet answered, as he handed the coin to me. “This is a 1792 Madrid 1 Escudo Charles IV doubloon.”
“Sweet,” Harry said, as I handed him the coin. “How much is it worth?”
“That one? Oh, about $400.”
“That it?” Harry asked, as he frowned. “I would’ve thought it’d be more, man.”
“You can’t place value on a coin just by its appearance,” Chet informed us. He placed the coin back in the cabinet and relocked it. He guided us to a case on the opposite wall and tapped the glass directly over an empty spot on one of the shelves. “This is what you people are here for. I’m really hoping you might be able to retrieve my missing real for me.”
“Your missing what?” I asked, confused. “What is a ray-all?”
“It’s Spanish,” Chet explained. “This one was a 1721 Spanish Silver 2 Reales coin. It was in fantastic condition. All the little intricate details I love about old colonial coins were still there. Truth be told, it was one of the first coins I ever found.”
“And you found all of these?” Julie exclaimed. She nodded. “Okay, now I’m impressed.”
Chet laughed, “No, I only found perhaps a fifth of them. The rest I bought off of other collectors, or at auctions, and so on.”
“How much is this real worth?” I asked. “Is it the most valuable coin in your collection?”
“Pssht,” Chet snorted. “Not even close. This one was probably worth about $400.”
“That’s it?” I demanded. “An authentic 18th century coin is only worth $400? Wow. I spend more than that on her champagne.”
Jillian shrugged, “True story, I’m afraid. What can I say? I like my Crystal Rose.”
As I mentioned, Crystal Rose was a very expensive champagne that just so happened to be Jillian’s favorite. Yes, it retails for $400, but once you add in the sales tax, well, it pushes the final bill to around $440. But, does that stop me? No. It’s Jillian’s favorite, so I have a bottle or two stashed back in the winery for those special occasions. I also have one being delivered here, but I’ll go more into that later.
“I don’t get it,” Harry complained. “Why would someone steal this one coin and leave all the others behind?”
“Maybe he didn’t have the others when this one was stolen?” I suggested. “Which brings me to my next question. How long ago did this happen?”
“The theft? Oh, gosh, this was nearly… eight months ago.”
“Eight months ago?” I repeated, shaking my head. “The MPD made it sound like this happened years ago.”
“They would,” Chet laughed. “Look, this is Monterey. Nothing much happens here. For the locals, eight months is a long time. I’m honestly surprised they brought you people all the way down here. They must be getting desperate.”
“I think you misunderstand,” Jillian said. “We weren’t brought specifically down from Oregon. We’re on vacation. The police just so happen to be fans of the dogs, and know how skilled they are in solving cases.”
“Ah, and they want to see if the famous Sherlock and Watson can find my coin, is that it?”
Jillian nodded, “Exactly. However, as Zachary stated earlier, we’re not in town for that long, so I don’t know what we’d be able to do that the local police haven’t done already.”
Chet shrugged, “Hey, if you get lucky, fantastic. That particular coin holds sentimental value to me, so I’d love to get it back. However, if you can’t, well, c’est la vie, I suppose. I’ll just have to make do without it.”
“I have one final question before we go,” I said, as I felt the leashes go taut and the dogs started pulling us back to the foyer. “You said this coin is nowhere close to your most valuable, right?”
Chet nodded, “That’s right. Why? Do you want to know which is the most valuable? I can show you, if you’d like.”
I pulled the dogs to a stop and eagerly nodded, “I would, yeah. Thanks. Sherlock? Watson? Come on, you two. We’re almost done here, then you can see if you can work some of your magic, okay?”
Sherlock irritably snorted and turned to follow Chet back into the coin room. Our host walked directly to the row of cases in the middle of the room and stopped at the center. He tapped the glass and gazed lovingly at the sole occupant of the case. To me, it looked like a golden silver dollar. I also noticed that the glass in this case differed from the others. A closer inspection revealed the glass to be at least an inch thick.
“Don’t get too close,” Chet warned. “This baby has some heavy-duty, anti-theft precautions in place.”
“What’s in there?” Julie asked.
“What you’re looking at,” Chet explained, “is a 1715 Royal, made for the king at the time, Phillip V. A handful were made, and only a few have ever been found. Think of it as the Holy Grail of numismatology. This, my friends, is the Tricentennial Royal.”
“And, uh, how much is it worth?” Harry hesitantly asked.
“Well, I ended up paying nearly $300,000 for it a few years ago, and I think I got a bargain. It’s worth at least double that now.”
I held my hands up in a time-out gesture.
“Wait just a minute. You’re telling me that someone passed up a coin worth over half a million dollars to steal one that was less than a thousand?”
Chet shrugged, “I can’t explain it, either.”
“Something doesn’t add up,” I said, as I turned to Jillian. My girlfriend was nodding, too. “Chet, it’s been a pleasure. If we find your coin, then we’ll let you know, okay?”
“I couldn’t ask for anything else,” the coin collector said, grinning.
He shook each of our hands as we headed outside. The four of us were silent, lost to our own thoughts, while we waited for the rideshare Jillian ordered to arrive. Why in the world would a thief willingly pass up a coin worth many thousands more than the one they ended up stealing? What was so important about that coin?
And why, all of a sudden, were the dogs restless? Could it be that the corgis were anxious to begin their search? Thinking of the money I’d save if the dogs located Chet’s missing coin, I grinned. That would be more than enough to buy another few bottles of Jillian’s pricey bubbly.
FOUR
Later that afternoon, we were back at the waterfront. Once again, I was holding the towels, since this time, we were encouraging the dogs to go in the water. Both of them were still restless, and I was hoping some good, old-fashioned exercise would take some of the edge off. For all you corgi owners out there, you’ll back me up. If your dog, who is already highly active to begin with, exhibits signs that they could possibly wear a path in the linoleum, then it’s time to get them outside to burn off some of that energy.
So far, it seemed to be working. Just as soon as we made it back to the hotel, I changed into swimming trunks and a tank top (I had no intentions of going in the water, but to be safe, in case one of the dogs needed help, I was going to be prepared). We checked in on Harry and Julie, but saw a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on their door, so we left them alone. With leashes in hand, we headed back to the beach, and thankfully, this was where the dogs seemed to be wanting to go. Walking along the waterfront once more, while watching the dogs’ antics, I decided to multitask and again, found myself staring at the ground, looking for bits of glass. Finding a few that fit the parameters Jillian had previously laid out, I gathered them up.
“Do you need any more green pieces?” I asked, as I studied a quarter-sized, slightly curved piece
of dark green glass I had found.
Jillian studied the piece and eventually nodded, “I have a few others already, but let’s keep this one, just in case. I like the shape of it.”
I pulled out the resealable sandwich bag I had in my pocket and dropped in the piece. That’s when I heard a splash. Turning, I saw Sherlock swimming steadily away from shore.
“What do you think you’re doing? Get back here, you goofball!”
I heard Sherlock snort, then turn around so that he was looking at me. Bear in mind, he was about twenty feet away from shore, just lazily floating on the water. Somehow, that little booger knew I couldn’t float on the water like he could, and he was taunting me with it.
“Don’t aggravate the person who feeds you, pal,” I warned the feisty corgi. “You’d better not make me get wet.”
Sherlock snorted again and then easily swam back to shore.
“What’s with you, pal? Why would you… ack! Pbbbth! Don’t shake yourself off next to me! Why you little snot. That’s it. You’re asking for it.”
Now, I should point out that, for all intents and purposes, I was acting like I was mad. I wasn’t. Sherlock and I played this all the time back home. This was me, signaling to Sherlock, that I intended to chase his furry butt. Sherlock, for his part, immediately crouched low and wiggled his stub of a tail. He yipped a challenge, as if to say, Come and get me, lardball.
I tossed the towels over at Jillian, who was giggling uncontrollably as she wrestled with her purse to find her phone. Knowing her, she’s gonna record this and share it with others at the most inopportune time in the future. Whatever. I really didn’t care.
I took off after Sherlock, who yipped once, turned tail, and bolted in the opposite direction. Watson, not wanting to be left out, suddenly raced by me, on a direct line which would have her intercept her packmate well before I could get there. Together, the two corgis then turned right, raced toward me, as though they were playing chicken, and then turned away again at the last possible moment.
Those little bastards were still taunting me! They knew I’d never be able to catch them. Oh, yeah? Two can play this game.
I immediately turned in the other direction and sprinted away. I then heard twin barks of annoyance and, suddenly, two sleek forms zipped by me. Realizing I was now chasing the dogs again, I reversed course one more time and took off back the way we had just come.
Sherlock barked again. This time, I could hear the exasperated tones in his bark. What happened next, I’m sorry to say, would make me the featured video of the day on YouTube. Sherlock came up racing up behind me and nudged my left heal with his snout. It was just enough to push my left foot into the path of my right, and down I went. Hard. And, since I had been running, my mouth had been wide open.
Thankfully, there was sand everywhere, and I was spared any physical injury. It didn’t help my ego, though, as I rolled to my knees and spit out a mouthful of sand. Ever have sand in your mouth? How about an entire mouthful?
I glared at Sherlock, who was sitting next to me with an amused expression on his face. Watson, for her part, had cuddled up next to me, as though she thought I had been hurt. And that’s when I saw her. Jillian, my wonderful girlfriend, had her phone out and was recording. Plus, she was laughing so hard she had tears running down her face.
“Thaks a lop,” I told her, as I tried valiantly to get every grain of sand out of my mouth. “Did you record all that?”
Jillian passed me her water bottle and nodded her tear-streaked face.
With my mouth properly rinsed, I turned back to the dogs, but noticed they were no longer there. Judging by the tracks in the sand, they had wandered around a group of large rocks and were, presumably, back at the water’s edge. Curious as to what they were doing, I made it four steps when I heard the chirps and coos. It was the otters. Apparently, the corgis were otter-watching again. They were standing, motionless, at the extreme edge of the shore and were staring out at the open ocean.
“I think our otter friends are back,” I said, as I took Jillian’s hand. “Come on, I want to chaperone them. I don’t want them enticing Sherlock to come in the water to play with them.”
I heard the splash and cursed mightily. Jillian and I hurried to the water’s edge and skidded to a stop. I had just started to pull my tank top up when Jillian laid a hand on mine to stop me.
“Look, Zachary. You were right. They’re playing!”
Sherlock was swimming steadily in circles as the otters danced through the water. Furry heads would pop up less than a foot from Sherlock’s head, a soft chirp would be heard, and by the time Sherlock looked in that direction, the otter would already be gone.
Relaxing somewhat, I took Jillian’s hand and, together, we made for the closest rock that was suitable for sitting. After a few moments, I wrapped my arm around her waist. Jillian snuggled closer as we watched the antics in the water.
“I like it here,” I said, in a soft tone. “And I have to tell you, I’m really looking forward to getting my SCUBA certification again.”
“I’m glad, Zachary. I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”
I thought about the bottle of Crystal Rose that was due to arrive in two days at the hotel and shook my head. I never thought I’d be this content again. Or this happy. You know what they say about lightning, right? That it never strikes the same place twice? I used to think that about love as well. I never would have imagined I could feel this way again. Just to think, in as little as two years ago, I was pining away, in Phoenix, alone and miserable. And now? I’m with a beautiful woman. I own a winery that my late wife, Samantha, would be proud of, and have two corgis who adore me.
I thought back to the sand in my mouth and grunted. Well, at least one does. Watson, sensing my thoughts, nuzzled up against my leg and looked up at me.
“I’m just teasing. I know you both love me.” I looked over at Jillian and saw that she was studying the bay. I gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. When she looked over at me, I smiled. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“I was just thinking about my parents.”
“Oh? What about them? They should be back home by now, shouldn’t they?”
Jillian nodded, “They are. I texted them earlier to see when they’d arrive, and they informed me that they cut their last stop out of the trip and had already arrived home.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I think it’s because they’ve been gone for over two years now. Seriously, would you want to live in an RV for that long?”
“I would as long as you were there with me,” I automatically answered.
Jillian gave me a kiss on the cheek and laid her head on my shoulder.
“Good answer, Zachary. Good answer.”
I heard a whine and, looking down, I saw that Watson was still staring at me.
“Fine. That goes for you two as well. Wow. Two years, huh? That’s a long time.”
“They did travel all across North America,” Jillian pointed out. “And even up into Canada.”
“They must truly love to travel.”
“My mother does,” Jillian corrected.
“And your father?” I prompted. “He doesn’t?”
“Not so much.”
“What does your father like to do?”
“To see my mother happy,” Jillian said, with a giggle.
“Did they manage to hit every state like they said they wanted?” I asked.
“All but Hawaii, obviously. And, they even hit all ten provinces in Canada.”
“Wow. So, that means they hit Alaska, too?”
Jillian nodded, “Yes. They liked it so well that they stayed for a full month in Anchorage.”
“I liked Anchorage,” I said, thinking back to my trip up north. “Beautiful city. Rugged scenery. Loved the mountains you could see south of the city. You’re going to love it.”
“I can’t wait for our cruise!” Jillian exclaimed. “Just think, we’ll be there next summer, in June! A crui
se up the Inside Passage. It’ll be…”
“…romantic?” I finished for her, after she trailed off.
“Well, yes, but that wasn’t what I was going to say. I was thinking, it’ll be breathtaking.”
“Due to the temperatures,” I guessed. “I wonder how cold it’ll be?”
“I was referring to the raw beauty,” Jillian corrected. “Alaska is the biggest state in the country, and yet has one of the lowest populations. I can’t wait to see it!”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I assured her.
The ring of my cell phone shattered the tranquility of the moment. Sighing, I pulled out my phone and looked at the display. While not recognizing the number, I did recognize the area code. Someone from Monterey was calling me.
“Hello?”
“Is this Zachary Anderson?”
“It is. Who’s this?”
“Officer Marianne Adolphson.”
“Oh, I remember you. Hello, Mary. How’s it going? What can I do for you?”
“I thought you’d like to know… we received an official response from the aquarium.”
“About that guy’s death? How’d that go?”
“They expressed remorse, obviously, but something about their attitude is… I don’t know.”
I couldn’t help it.
“Fishy?” I guessed.
“Yes, that’s it,” Mary laughed. “Listen, I was about ready to head over there to talk to the Director. He’s expecting me in about thirty minutes. Being an official police consultant for Pomme Valley, and since you’re the one who discovered the body, I have permission to invite you along, if you’d like.”
“Just a moment. Let me ask Jillian.”
“Of course.”
I muted the call and turned to Jillian.
“It’s Mary, from the police. She’s inviting us to accompany her to talk to the guys at the aquarium. Do you want to go?”
Jillian nodded, “Sure. But, I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?”
Jillian looked over at Sherlock, who was still swimming in the water, cavorting with the playful otters. She then looked down at Watson and scratched behind her ears.
Case of the Ostentatious Otters Page 6