Three Keys to Murder

by Gary Williams

  “Some variations of this legend contend there was never to be $5 million in gold bullion paid to the Spanish. Instead, the Aztec treasure itself was the payment, a value far greater than President James Monroe had told others he had agreed to. The form of payment for Florida with the Aztec gold was to be kept secretive at the request of the Spanish, again to preserve their dignity and cover up the nature by which they’d lost the treasure to pirates.”

  “Interesting,” Fawn remarked.

  “Fantasy,” Pierce continued. “Anyway, before departure, Simpkins devised his own plan of betrayal. Once he realized the value of the Aztec treasure, the quarter million payment by the pirates seemed trivial. Besides, how could he even trust the scoundrels? They were asking him to sabotage a Navy ship with 31 other men, including the Captain, yet there was no guarantee Black Caesar wouldn’t kill him. Simpkins had only been given a promise of money. A pirate’s promise.

  “Over time, Simpkins had made many nefarious friends working the docks. So several weeks before sailing, Simpkins gathered his own band of pirates. He engaged a privateer with a crew of nine men and brought them into a plan to steal the Aztec treasure from the SS Pearsaw before Black Caesar had a chance.”

  “A double cross of a double cross. Do you know the name of the privateer’s vessel?” Fawn asked.

  “No.”

  “Please go on,” Fawn urged.

  “It’s said that Simpkins’ plan was simple. Because they were traveling during the stormy months—or as we know it today, the hurricane season— he knew the SS Pearsaw would remain close to the shore, heading due east then following the Florida coast south. Black Caesar had always attacked ships around the Florida Straits, near the Keys. Simpkins and the privateer decided to make their assault of the SS Pearsaw around Cedar Key, Florida, far north of where Black Caesar would be waiting.

  “On the third night of sailing, while anchored off the panhandle of Florida, Simpkins went about his act of sabotage.

  “First, he murdered the night watchman and threw his body off the deck. Then he went about clogging the twelve cannons. Afterward, he poisoned the crew’s drinking water, hiding several canteens of fresh water for himself.

  “The ship got under way early the next morning. By noon, most of the crew was sick from the contaminated water. Some crewmen, realizing the water was the cause, stopped drinking it. This meant they’d have to go ashore at some point and find a fresh water supply.

  “Later that afternoon, most of the sick had died. Still unsure of the exact cause, and fearing death, those still living pushed the bodies over the sides. Eventually, the crew whittled down to the captain, close to death, and less than a handful of crew members. Simpkins, of course, was one of them.

  “Simpkins took control, since he had prior experience as captain. He urged the remaining few to keep the ship going. He claimed to know of an inland freshwater pond to the south that they could reach by mid-afternoon.

  “As the hours passed, most of the remaining sick died. Now, with a healthy crew of just five, the ship sailed on, reaching Cedar Key several hours later. While anchored there, the captain passed away.

  “Simpkins and two of the men took a rowboat ashore, leaving only two men to guard the ship. On shore, Simpkins killed both men. By the time he returned to the ship, the privateer and his men had arrived as planned. The last of the two remaining Pearsaw crewmen were unceremoniously shot in the head and their bodies dumped in the water.”

  Fawn spoke. “So what guarantee did Simpkins have that the privateer and his men wouldn’t do the same to him and make off with the Aztec treasure?”

  “Because it’s said that before leaving port, Simpkins had gotten a glimpse of the hold where the treasure was to be stowed. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen; the equivalent of a giant safe nestled against one wall. Completely clad in iron, it looked like a big rectangular box reaching nearly the height of the 12-foot hold and half its 50-foot width. It appeared impenetrable. There was a door to the far right with a keyhole. Simpkins reasoned that the key would be on the key ring he’d stolen from the captain’s quarters just before the man died.

  “Without that key for the giant iron contraption, no one was going to reach the Aztec gold nor could they off-load the box due to its weight. And Simpkins wasn’t going to share the key with the privateers until after he’d gotten away with the $5 million in gold bullion locked in the captain’s quarters. That was to be his cut of the deal.

  “So he told them the captain’s key was hidden inland when he’d gone ashore. The privateers agreed to load the $5 million in gold bullion on their vessel and ferry Simpkins and his bullion three days’ journey back to port in New Orleans in return for the key. Once in New Orleans, Simpkins would provide the privateers with a map showing the exact location where the key was hidden inland near Cedar Key.

  “Three men from the privateer vessel were left to guard the warship, but six days later, when the privateers returned after dropping off Simpkins and his cache of $5 million in gold bullion in New Orleans, the SS Pearsaw had inexplicably vanished. They rowed ashore and found the key exactly where Simpkins had said it’d be. It appeared that he’d upheld his end of the deal; however, the ship’s disappearance meant the Zaile’s Aztec treasure was gone.

  “For days, the privateers sailed the Gulf of Mexico near Cedar Key searching for the SS Pearsaw, but to no avail.”

  “Strange legend,” Fawn remarked, thinking of the story in Sarah Courtland’s letter to Coyle, where Simpkins was inland and wounded, tortured by Black Caesar and his men before Osceola stepped in. “What do you think happened to the treasure?”

  “I think it’s possible that Black Caesar became suspicious of Simpkins and sailed north to engage the SS Pearsaw. When the pirates came upon the SS Pearsaw with only three men guarding it, they seized control and sailed away.

  “It’s said that after giving up their search for the SS Pearsaw, the privateers returned to New Orleans to find Simpkins and the gold bullion had vanished.”

  Fawn’s mind whirled with phrases from Sarah Courtland’s letter. Osceola had mentioned an encounter with Simpkins, saying Simpkins died after being tortured by Black Caesar. He would not have made it back to New Orleans.

  “One variation on the legend is that there were actually three keys. One was held by the Captain, and the other two were secretly hidden by a U.S. Ambassador somewhere in or near St. Augustine where the treasure was to be delivered. This assured if the container holding the treasure fell into the wrong hands, it couldn’t be opened.

  “In this story, two of the three keys were needed to open the container. They had to be used in a specific order—a certain key would open a left lock and the other, the right. They also had to be turned at the same instant or some sort of booby trap mechanism would be triggered.

  “Even more complicated, the U.S. Ambassador who hid the keys in St. Augustine left a coded message in public view somewhere within the city. The message gave the location of the two keys and sequencing—which one was to go in the left keyhole, which one in the right. It was said that once the SS Pearsaw arrived in St. Augustine safely with the treasure, the U.S. would inform the Spanish as to the location of the message, thereby providing them access to the treasure, and the deal for the purchase of Florida would be sealed.”

  “Why a third key?”

  “Not sure, but again, I must reiterate there is no U.S. Naval record of an SS Pearsaw, or, as I mentioned earlier, that the Spanish Galleon, Zaile—which did exist—was ever plundered.

  “As for Zimkens, as is the name I’ve always heard, no such officer was in the Navy. By the way…out of curiosity, where did you come up with the name ‘Simpkins’?”

  “The name was in my father’s notes,” she said, trying to mask her excitement.

  Pierce knew of Fawn’s father’s search for treasure. “If you like, I’ll research the name and see
if I can come up with anything.”

  “That would be great, Mr. Pierce. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot one of the most intriguing aspects of the story. One of the items said to be among the Spanish galleon Zaile’s treasure that the SS Pearsaw was transporting was the 100/80/60/60 crown. A solid gold headpiece, it was said to have 100 diamonds, 80 emeralds, 60 sapphires, and 60 rubies festooned to it in eloquent array. The precious gems were some of the most valuable ever discovered among the Aztec civilization. Such a compilation, if it existed, would be virtually priceless.”

  “I’d heard my father mention a crown, but never any details,” Fawn remarked, then jotted down 100/80/60/60 crown. Diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and rubies.

  There was a moment of silence before Pierce spoke again. “Fawn, is Black Caesar mentioned in your father’s notes?”

  Fawn had shared her father’s quest for treasure with Pierce but had never given details or divulged the contents of the notes, which was the lone source of her father’s inspiration. “No. I read it elsewhere. It sounded intriguing, and I thought I might do a story on it.” It was the truth. The only way she had connected Black Caesar was through Sarah Courtland’s letter. She was not prepared to give any more information at the moment, even if she did trust the man.

  After hanging up, Fawn reviewed her notes feverishly. A startling link had materialized between her father’s piece of felt, Sarah’s letter to Coyle in 1865, and the legend Jonathan Pierce just described. They all told stories, a mosaic of facts that merged and crossed, sometimes connecting, other times deviating.

  Fawn began comparing the commonalities. She created a list of key data elements in a grid, aligning identical items where possible:

  Father’s felt text

  Sarah’s 1865 Letter

  Pierce’s Legend

  Treasure

  Treasure

  Treasure

  Keys (3)

  Key (1)

  Keys (3)

  Simpkins

  Simpkins / Osceola

  Zimkems (?)

  “No Spanish”

  “No Pirates”

  Black Caesar

  Black Caesar

  Zaile

  Zaile

  Large Iron box

  Large container (?)

  Gulf Coast of Florida

  Cedar Key

  The transferred note from the underside of the tortoise shell onto the felt consisted of short—and in some cases, undecipherable—phrases, but it now gained a bit of clarity given its alignment. Words such as “treasure,” “keys,” and the most convincing term, “Zaile,” left no doubt the writing was connected to the legend. It validated to her that at least some of the legend had merit.

  One glaring incongruity was the cryptic writing on the felt had specifically said “No Pirates,” while the legend and Sarah’s letter involved a pirate of stature: Black Caesar. It was hard to overlook this contradiction when tying the pieces together; however, the linkage between the three sources was strengthened with the text from Sarah’s 1865 letter to Coyle. There had been mention of treasure and Simpkins—spelled identically as it was on the felt. And there was the statement regarding the large container behind Simpkins where he had died. Could this be the same large iron box mentioned in the felt text?

  The inconsistency between the usage of keys on the felt text and in the legend was easily explained. Osceola’s knowledge of a key was due to his encounter with the wounded Simpkins; a desperate man attempting to bargain with the Indian. It was reasonable that he wouldn’t have told Osceola about any other keys in case he survived.

  All in all, the evidence was compelling. All three sources meshed, albeit imperfectly: the felt text, Sarah’s 1865 letter to Coyle, and the legend. She felt an unexpected surge of relief. Was it enough to justify Juan Velarde Cortez’s relentless hunt for treasure? Might she finally understand the passion that had all but consumed him?

  A more serious matter than the pursuit of lost treasure, though, was a killer appeared linked to this frenzy of discoveries. It seemed probable that the recent killings were conducted either to honor or desecrate the memory of the great Indian, Osceola. But what did this have to do with the treasure?

  Regardless, via Sarah’s letter to Coyle, Osceola had been clearly thrust into the middle of a legend regarding lost pirate treasure; a legend that was materializing into reality right before Fawn Cortez’s eyes.

  Discovery is a journalist’s savior, and the information from Pierce had been a windfall. With renewed enthusiasm, Fawn returned home. Only an hour before, she had walked from her house, disappointed. She returned home elated.

  She was about to call Ralston when her phone rang. It was Jonathan Pierce.

  “Fawn, I’m glad I got you. You were dead on. I found naval records regarding a Richard Simpkins based out of New Orleans in 1819-1820. It supports what I told you. He worked in Boston and had been demoted to dock hand. His last assignment was under Captain Julius Finnon Whimoor. There’s no further service record, and no account of his death. I can’t believe you came up with the name to support the legend. Do you know how many times I researched Zimkens and ran into a dead end? And in one afternoon, you solve the riddle. You say your father’s research unearthed it?”

  Captain Julius Finnon Whimoor…Whimoor…Whimoor…the name was swimming in Fawn’s mind like a loosed animal. Then she placed it.

  “Fawn? You still there?”

  “Hold on a minute,” she responded, nearly breathless. She tore into the bedroom and removed the cigar box from underneath the bed. She removed the note with the transcribed text and silently read the closing:

  October 1820

  Captain Wiiimoon - US Navy

  “Mr. Pierce, spell Whimoor,” Fawn requested.

  His spelling confirmed her assumption. W-h-i-m-o-o-r. But the text clearly spelled W-i-i-i-m-o-o-n. Or did it? She thought for a moment. “Mr. Pierce, can I put you on hold?”

  “Yes, I gue—”

  Fawn removed the felt and unfolded it, splaying it upon the bed. She grabbed the magnifying glass and examined the backward text for the captain’s name.

  It only took a few seconds for her to realize her father’s transcription had been off. What appeared as three “i’s” was, in fact, a ragged “h” before an “i”. The last letter, what her father thought to be an “n” had a slightly shortened line on the right, which Fawn could make out to be an “r” instead. Wiiimoon was the misspelling of Whimoor, and according to Pierce, Whimoor was the captain to whom Richard Simpkins had last been assigned in October 1820.

  Fawn returned to the phone. “Mr. Pierce, thank you so much for the information. You have no idea what it means to me.”

  “Fawn, you didn’t answer my question. How did your father come by the name Richard Simpkins?”

  “Not sure.” This time she had told a lie, but she silently promised herself to come clean with Jonathan Pierce soon. She was too excited to go through the explanation, and there were too many variables for her mind to process at the moment.

  “You’re on a treasure hunt I take it.” There was a hint of fatherly scolding in Pierce’s tone. Then his words lightened. “Can’t says that I blames ya. Please, anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Oh, one other thing,” Jonathan Pierce continued. “I found this interesting, if not downright strange. Captain Whimoor was the only naval officer with a pet onboard his s
hips.”

  “A pet?”

  “Yeah, Naval records indicate he had to get high command permission before he was allowed to cart “Bugle” around with him. Bugle was a Madagascar tortoise obtained from a tiny zoo in New Orleans that had gone out of business.

  CHAPTER 27

  That evening Fawn relayed her findings to Ralston. The young man’s eyes remained glazed as Fawn explained the legend and all the ties to her father’s information and Sarah’s letter. She could feel her own adrenaline flowing, just from saying the words and connecting the links. She saved the best for last.

  “Remember how I told you father’s tortoise remains was a Madagascar species?”

  Ralston nodded. “Yeah, and we’re a long way from Africa.”

  “Jonathan Pierce verified that Captain Whimoor owned a Madagascar tortoise acquired from a defunct zoo in New Orleans.”

  “When was the skeleton found?” Ralston asked.

  “1825, near Cedar Key on the Gulf Coast of Florida.”

  Ralston looked to the side, in thought. “So what do you think?”

  “Extrapolating everything we know makes me think the message on the bottom of the shell, which was transferred to the felt, was Captain Whimoor’s final words.”

  Fawn continued. “Let’s suppose the legend is 100 percent accurate. In October 1820, the SS Pearsaw left from New Orleans with the Zaile treasure in its horde as payment to the Spanish for Florida. The plan was to sail south along the west coast of Florida, then through the Florida Straits before turning north and arriving at St. Augustine where payment would be made to the Spanish.

  “Onboard is Richard Simpkins, a disgruntled ex-U.S. Navy captain who had sold information about the cargo to the pirate, Black Caesar. En route, Simpkins poisons the crew, including Captain Whimoor.”