by Janie Brians
"I see, just a moment, please, Miss Jones, I'll see if Dr. Denton is in." The receptionist pushed a button on her phone. Anne sauntered over to a display case, trying to appear completely confident that she would be invited in.
"Miss Jones," the receptionist called Anne back, "unfortunately Dr. Denton is unavailable right now. However, his assistant, Mr. Ross, will be glad to speak with you. He'll be out in just a moment."
"Thank-you." Anne had a feeling it wasn't going to work, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. In museum circles the name of Malcolm McAllistair was quite a respected one. She would use it as much as possible.
A rather short, portly man came from the offices and approached the receptionist who then directed him to Anne. He smiled kindly and held out his hand to shake hers.
"Miss Jones, I am William Ross. It is a pleasure to meet you," he said with a very refined British accent. "Please, have a seat. How may I help you?" he asked sincerely.
"Thank-you for seeing me, Mr. Ross. I realize you must be busy. I have an interest; in seeing those books that were recently uncovered here. As I told your receptionist, I represent Malcolm McAllistair of the Board of Trustees of the Historical Society in Freeport. He is presently returning from a trip to Edinburgh where he spoke at a conference."
"Oh yes, I am certainly familiar with Mr. McAllistair's work and Dr. Denton has known him for years, I am told."
"Ah. Well then, you'll understand that since he could not be here, I have come in his stead," she replied formally.
"Certainly, Miss Jones, and we are glad for your interest. However, perhaps you could return later in the day, say around four o'clock? You see, Dr. Denton has an appointment with a gentleman who will be arriving any moment. He's a linguist and will be helping to decipher one of the books for us."
As Anne was about to reply, a tall and very handsome man walked in. He wore a navy-blue, double-breasted suit over a crisp white shirt that contrasted with his dark tan. He went to the front desk and spoke to the receptionist. She smiled and excused herself. Coming over to where Mr. Ross sat with Anne, she said, "Mr. Perrault is here, sir. Shall I show him to your office and inform Dr. Denton?"
"That's the linguist?" Anne thought in surprise. He was much younger than she had expected. Probably her age. He had turned as the receptionist had walked over to Mr. Ross and when he saw Anne he smiled. She smiled back. Next, she took notice that there was no wedding ring.
"Excuse me, Miss Jones," Mr. Ross said, "but the gentleman I spoke of has arrived and I must leave you. Please feel free to return this afternoon. I'll look forward to seeing you and we'll have more time to talk."
He shook her hand and then turned and walked toward the linguist with an outstretched arm.
"Mr. Perrault, I'm so glad to finally meet you." The two men shook hands. "I do hope your trip has gone smoothly."
"Yes, thanks. As a matter of fact, I've been enjoying a few days of playing tourist already," and looking at Anne, he smiled again and said, "Have I interrupted something?"
Mr. Ross replied quickly, "Uh...Miss Jones is also very interested in our latest discoveries. She's here for Mr. Malcolm McAllistair, perhaps you have heard of him?"
"Certainly I have. The company I work for was very anxious to publish a book he wrote several years back about undersea treasures. Unfortunately, a competitor beat us to it." He smiled and held out his hand to shake Anne's. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss (was there a question in his voice?) Jones," and he held her hand just the slightest bit longer than was necessary.
"Mr. Perrault, I am glad to meet you. It seems to me that you have quite an exciting task ahead of you. I envy you," she said truthfully.
"Well, if there are no objections, I'd be glad for you to accompany us. You've obviously had much experience with this sort of thing, having worked for Mr. McAllistair."
Anne decided that it wasn't the time to clear up that misunderstanding so she happily let it slip by and turned to Mr. Ross with the sweetest smile she could give him.
"Uh... well...no, of course not. I'm sure Dr. Denton and I would be glad for Miss Jones to come along too. Please follow me, would you." He led the way and Anne followed with the linguist.
"Mr. Perrault, how long have you been doing this sort of work?" she asked him.
"First of all, when you say Mr. Perrault I think you're talking to my father. Please, call me Jason."
"Jason," she repeated and smiled up at him, "and my name is Anne."
"Anne, I've been doing this since soon after I began working for the publishing company, about seven years ago."
"I'm afraid I can't quite make the connection between a publishing firm and the translation of historical documents, sorry," she said honestly.
"Well, if you'll agree to have dinner with me tonight, I'll do my best to clear it up for you."
She looked at him in surprise. "I'd like that," she replied happily.
Mr.Ross stopped at a door that had the words ‘Lab Room 3’ painted on it.
"Right in here," he said and they followed him inside.
It took Anne a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the special lighting. It was a very subdued sort of light. A man she assumed was Dr. Denton, sat on a stool hunched over a large book that lay open on the table in front of him. As the three of them walked in, he stood up and walked over to Jason and shook his hand. He was also a tall man, as tall as Jason, but probably in his mid-fifties and very thin. And although it was nothing she could put her finger on specifically, Anne's first impression of him was not very good.
"Get a grip, Anne" she thought to herself, as she heard echoes of her mother's voice from this morning, " you don't even know the man."
"Thank you so much for coming, young man," he said to Jason. "These things are really quite incredible. I've been making out alright with these prison records, since they're all in English, but this," and he held up a small book for Jason to take, "I can't make heads or tails of."
At that point he noticed Anne and he seemed confused.
"You are?'
"A friend of mine, doctor," Jason jumped in, " and I’ve asked her to accompany me. I hope it's not a problem."
"Oh...well...I guess it will be alright."
"Miss Jones works for Malcolm McAllistair, Melvin," Mr. Ross added.
"Really? Well then, by all means, you are most welcome, Miss Jones." Was he being the slightest bit sarcastic? Since he knew Malcolm, did he know she didn't really work for him? As he shook her hand, she had to control a feeling of revulsion it caused her. What was it about him?
Taking the diary over to a table, Jason examined the first page closely.
"You were right about its being written in Danish, doctor. Looks like it got wet too, but fortunately not enough to damage it. From the manner of the handwriting, as well as the fine quality of the book, I'd say the owner had been well-educated and probably wealthy in his day. The writing is quite elegant and stylized. This first entry is dated August 18, 1585. He continued reading as he explained why he was rather slow at translating the first few lines.
"Another word for this writing is 'superfluous1. Not in what is written, but more in HOW it is written. The handwriting includes a lot of scrollwork which has a tendency to obscure the words a bit. But it can be deciphered, don't worry. I just have to accustom my eye to it, but I'll have it all done before I leave, I promise you," he said as he gently leafed through various pages.
"I'm very relieved to hear it," Dr. Denton replied. "The volumes over here," he went to a second table where six volumes of the same type he had been examining were piled on top of one another," are pretty straightforward. Names and dates, mainly. The one that is so interesting though, is the one that has so many personal comments in it." He motioned to the volume that he had been examining when they first walked in.
"Like what, for instance?" Anne asked, her curiosity aroused.
"Well, this writer tells about various prisoners. For example, several of them over the years tried bri
bing him to set them free. Many of those captured for piracy claimed that they knew where there was great wealth hidden away and that if only he'd let them go, they would retrieve it and reward him handsomely. Others claimed not to be pirates at all, but said they had been sentenced unjustly. He tells of two young pirates for example, who'd been captured from their Spanish ship and imprisoned along with several of their shipmates. Their nick-name, rather a facetious one I suspect, was 'los gemelos reales'."
"The royal twins? Why?" asked Jason, who obviously also knew Spanish.
"It seems they claimed to be sons of a queen that had been executed and they had had to flee for their lives in order not to be discovered and murdered by her enemies. And also because, obviously, they were twins," Denton laughed. "There are quite a few comical entries like that. This warden," and he walked over to the volume to read the man's name, Isaac P. Whitley, has written dozens of stories like this one. An interesting read, whether they're true or not," he finished.
"He says they were twins? But they were Spanish?" Anne asked.
"He doesn't say specifically but it seems an obvious conclusion to make since they were captured from a Spanish pirate ship."
"I see," Anne said as she walked over to where Jason sat examining the diary. He was reading a page about a third of the way into the book.
"Aha! Seems the writer's name is Edwin, but he doesn't give any other name. He speaks of a brother, Linus. Do you have any listing in the volumes for either an Edwin or Linus?" he asked Denton.
"That will take a while. Bill," turning to Mr. Ross, "would you take this volume and start at the beginning, looking for either of those names."
"Surely, doctor. Those are fine names, aren't they? I should say, fine Scottish names, eh?" and he chuckled as he settled at the table.
"May I help?" Anne offered. "I'd be glad to search through one of those volumes too." She tingled at the thought of those Scottish names.
"Well...yes...yes, why not?" Dr. Denton said as he handed her a second volume. It gave her pleasure to hold such an enduring book in her own hands. The one she had been given contained names entered mainly in the late 1700’s. It was rather sad to read the names of men and then later on to see the entries recording their deaths. Many died of disease. Some committed suicide, and still others died of old-age, having spent most of their lives in a dark cell.
"What sad and horribly hopeless lives," she thought.
After about twenty minutes, she had finished reading through the volume and had found no mention of either Edwin or Linus. She sighed disappointedly as she gently closed the old book. Suddenly she remembered she had to go the airport to pick Lizzie up. She checked her watch.
”Oh my goodness," she said aloud, "it's nearly eleven-thirty, I've got to be running along. I have to pick someone up at the airport." She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. "Thank-you, gentlemen, I've certainly enjoyed this. Uh...I'm sure Mr. McAllistair will be anxious to hear about these amazing finds. He'll probably be getting in touch with you himself, very soon. "
"That would be fine. I'd enjoy showing him these fine artifacts," Dr. Denton replied.
"Smug," Anne thought, " he's a bit of a snob and he gives me the creeps." She forced herself to smile at him. She pushed open the door and Jason got up to follow her.
"I'll be right back," he said to Denton.
"Is seven-thirty a good time for you for dinner tonight?" he asked Anne as they stood in the hallway.
"Yes, that's fine. Where are you staying?"
"A little place on the beach- on Montague Beach."
"Oh good, that's where I am too. Why don't we meet in front of the Blue Dolphin Inn. It's the biggest hotel there and the easiest to find. Say, seven-thirty in the lobby. From there we can decide whether we want to eat at one of the hotel restaurants or walk over to Bay Street instead, okay?"
"I'm looking forward to it Anne," he smiled. He had a great smile.
"Me too. See you then," and she ran off to her car.
"I thought you'd forgotten me," her dad teased as he got into the car.
"Sorry. I got so interested in what I was doing I lost track of the time."
"What have you been up to?"
She explained about the volumes and the diary. She also told him about her date for the evening.
"Ah! Your mother is foiled again!" he joked. "So, this young man you're seeing tonight, what's his name? Where's he from?"
"Well, I didn't really have an opportunity to find out where he's from, but his name is Jason Perrault. He works for a publishing firm."
"Perrault? Is that what you said?"
"Yes. Why? You know him?"
"Uh... well... it's just an unusual name, don't you think?"
"Compared to Jones, I guess it is," she joked. Her dad laughed too, but far more than her little joke warranted.
They pulled up to the 'Arrivals' area. Ed went in while Anne parked the car. Lizzie and Malcolm were just coming out of Customs and Immigration as Anne walked up to her dad.
"There they are! She does look tired, doesn't she," Ed said as they walked toward her.
"How's my girl?" he said as he hugged her. "We sure missed you, babe."
"It's good to be back. I've missed you all too."
"Uncle, have you worked my sister to death, or what?" Anne teased as she gave Malcolm a hug and kiss.
"No, not I lass."
"So Malcolm, do you have time to come over to the house for awhile before your flight?" Ed invited his friend.
"No, Eddie, thanks just the same. My flight leaves in less than half an hour. We'll have to save the visitn' for another time, my friend."
"Righto. We'll expect you to come and stay for awhile someday soon."
"Fair enough. Take care of yourselves. Give my love to Darlene."
Lizzie hugged him and said, "Thanks uncle. I did have a good time, despite... everything."
He touched her cheek and said softly, "Ya could be wrong about him, lass."
"I wish I were but...oh well, it's over. Let's just forget it. I'll see you in a week. Think you can manage without me for that long?" "Not likely, but I'll give it a go."
Darlene, Ed, and Anne each sat on a stool in the kitchen listening to Lizzie's animated account of her stay in Scotland. It was clear to the three of them that she had fallen in love with that country even before Liam McFallen had appeared on the scene. Then she told them all about her week-end at McFallen House and the robbery at Balintore Estate.
"I hate to admit it, but I can't help but see how obvious it is that he could've had something to do with it."
"Are you sure it was Chris Dean you saw him talking to?" Darlene asked her daughter.
"Yes. Absolutely, mom. I'd know him anywhere."
"Did you say anything to the authorities over there?" her dad asked her.
"No...maybe I should have but... I just couldn't do it, dad. Uncle said that with Scotland Yard on it, they'll probably find him out anyway."
"But what if they don't? He'll have gotten away with it then."
"I know, and I'm not going to let that happen, I promise. I just need time to think this out, okay?" she appealed.
Ed walked over to her, hugged her and said, "I have no doubts that you'll do the right thing, Lizzie." Then he turned to Darlene and said, "All our guests are out playing tourists. Why don't we four take a break. What d'ya say we put on our bathing suits and go out on the boat for awhile?"
"Sounds good to me. Girls, what do you think?"
"I'd love it!" Lizzie answered with relief.
"Okay by me, but I've got to be back in time to get ready for tonight," Anne replied.
"What's tonight?" Darlene asked.
Ed jumped in, "She has a date with a very handsome fella, D. He's got a rather unusual name, though."
"How unusual?" She asked as she saw the grimace on Anne's face.
"Perrault...that's what you said, eh Annie? Little strange, don't you think, D?" He passed a look to his wife that Anne c
ould only imagine meant for her to continue the teasing. At first her mother looked like she was going to burst out laughing, but she managed to control herself.
"Now Eddie, stop teasing the girl. What's in a name, anyway?" she said as she put her arm around Anne as if to take her side. "I'm just glad she's met a nice young man. Hope you'll have a lovely time with him, Annie. And don't you worry, we'll be sure to get back in plenty of time for you to get ready, love."
"Okay, let's go!" Ed said, still chuckling to himself.
CHAPTER TEN
" SO, DID YOU get to the airport on time?" Jason asked Anne across the table that evening.
"Yes, just in time."
"Male or female?" he asked abruptly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The person you had to pick up, male or female?" She smiled and said, "It was my sister."
"Ah well, that's a relief." He grinned back at her as the waiter brought their drinks. The restaurant they had chosen was doing a brisk business for a Monday evening. It sat on a hill overlooking part of Bay Street and Nassau Harbour. Soon the lights of Bay Street would be twinkling up at them and the moon would climb high in the clear night sky.
"So have you been here long?" Jason asked.
"No, just got in yesterday, actually. I live in Freeport. My parents are living here and my sister and I are visiting them for the week."
"I see. How long have you lived there?"
"Let me see....since 1967. so that'd make it sixteen years."
"You must really like it there."
"I do. It's home," she answered simply.
"Must've been nice to grow up there, on an island, I mean. I'd have loved it."
"We did. There was always something fun to do or discover."
"Maybe that explains why you have such a curiosity about things...things like old diaries," he grinned. "No wonder you work for Malcolm McAllistair."