by David Wood
He smiled at her, his manner easy as if this were his office and she the visitor. Was he ever going to speak?
“Who are you and what do you want?” She immediately chastised herself for speaking first. Patience had never been her strong suit. “Tell me now or I’ll have you tossed out.” It was a feeble attempt at regaining the upper hand, but it was all she could think of. For a moment it seemed as if she would be forced to make good on her threat, because the man continued to smile. But, just as she was reaching for her intercom, he spoke one word.
“Herrschaft.”
She held on to her calm exterior with the greatest of effort. Inside, she was a mess. Why would anyone from Heilig Herrschaft, that vile branch of the Dominion dedicated to restoring the Nazis to power in Germany, using the church, of all things, as its vehicle, dare come anywhere near her or any Sister? Was he an assassin? Surely not.
“Please, Fraulein.” He spoke with only the mildest German accent. “Be at ease. I know who you are.”
“Then you are a fool for coming here today.” She ought to have him taken into custody immediately, but something stayed her hand.
“Perhaps, but a brave fool, no?” Each time he smiled, he seemed ever more wolflike. “There is enmity between our organizations, that is true, but I believe we can find common ground.”
“Morgan would never hear of it.”
“Not with Morgan and not with the Sisterhood. With you.”
“What could we possibly have in common?”
“A common enemy. Your sister.” He held up a finger, silencing her protest. “How much has Morgan told you about Oak Island?”
Tamsin’s stomach lurched. The honest answer was ‘nothing,’ but she didn’t care to admit it.
“Yes, I see,” he said, correctly interpreting her hesitation. He leaned forward and adopted a conspiratorial tone. “Morgan has found something on Oak Island.”
“Impossible. The island has been searched countless times, and nothing has ever been found. The Money Pit is well named, for too much money has been wasted looking for treasure that is not there.”
“You know it is not treasure we seek.” He paused. “A Kidd chest has been found.”
This time she could not keep the surprise from her face. “How do you know?”
“Of course I cannot tell you that. It is enough that we know, and now, you know.”
Tamsin stared at the man without seeing him. It was no surprise that Morgan was keeping secrets, but it galled her nonetheless. And this was one secret that belonged to all three sisters. It was what they had been working for.
“How do I know you are telling the truth?”
“You do not, but you can find out. Put the question to your sister. Look into her eyes and see the lie. Or, perhaps, she will tell you the truth.” He shrugged, as if the whole issue was of no import to him.
“Assuming you are telling the truth, and Morgan has found... something.” She could not bring herself to say what, exactly. “What is it you want from me?”
“We want you to take control away from Morgan, with our help if you like. In turn, when you find what you seek, we ask only to be permitted to make use of it one time. Nothing more.”
“You believe the stories?” she scoffed. “They are symbols, and only to Britons at that. To the rest of the world, they are mere curiosities.” Her words rang false, and she knew it. She’d had enough glimpses in her lifetime of powers not understood by the modern world to know better.
“We believe,” he said simply. “If you think they are, as you say, curiosities, then surely there is no harm in permitting us to try.”
“Suppose it will do what legend says. How will you use it?”
“That is our affair.” He sat up straight. “You should not so easily cede control to Morgan. What power does she truly wield, save the court of public opinion and the allegiance of a few politicians? You have authority.”
“I am Chief Constable of the transport police. That is a far cry from powerful.”
“You underestimate yourself, and we both know you have forged many alliances behind Morgan’s back. Let us help one another. In fact, I have some information that might be of interest to you. Someone in America is making quite an effort to find Kidd’s chests. I can provide you with specifics, should you choose to work with us.”
“What benefit is there to helping Heilig Herrschaft? The last time your people controlled Germany, our nations tried to destroy each other.”
“Yes, and now America has come to dominate the world. What if we had formed an alliance, instead? Where might both our nations be?”
She shook her head. Dealing with the Dominion? The very idea was mad. Then again, perhaps this was the opportunity she had long sought. She rose from her chair, turned, and gazed down at the slow-flowing waters of the Thames. On the opposite side, the London Eye stuck out like a festering boil on the landscape of her beloved city. Too few held on to the things that truly mattered any more. The ancient things rooted in history and tradition; things that held power to make modern inventions seem trite by comparison. If the Dominion could help her obtain them... Perhaps it was time to take a risk.
“Tell me more.”
Chapter 19
“Jimmy has something for us!” Maddock proclaimed, scrolling through the email he’d just received from Jimmy Letson, an old friend and accomplished hacker. “I gave him a list of everything in Dad’s research to see if he could come up with any leads on Kidd’s chests.”
“And what did he find?” Bones lounged on the deck of Sea Foam with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. “I’m already bored.”
They’d met up with Charlie in a coastal town in Maine. He’d returned their belongings and informed them that Sheriff Meade wouldn’t let him post bail for, or even visit, with Angel until Monday morning. The sheriff also declined to say what she was charged with. Incensed, Charlie vowed to bring all his resources to bear on the situation. He’d been disappointed to learn that his Oak Island project was at an end, but had been downright giddy to hear of what Maddock and Bones had discovered and to see the pictures they’d taken.
Now they were cruising south somewhere off the coast of Massachusetts. Matt, who had come along with Charlie, had rejoined the crew and was piloting the ship.
“He’s got a few possibilities,” Maddock said. “There’s a museum on Gardiner’s Island...”
“Already checked it,” Avery said. She was seated next to Bones, drinking a cup of chai tea. “No joy.”
“Okay. How about the Maritime Museum in Port Royal?” The thought of a trip to Jamaica definitely appealed to him.
“Been there. Done that.” Avery frowned. “No offense, but I don’t think your friend has much chance of finding the Kidd chests. It’s not like I’m the first who’s tried.”
“Don’t underestimate Jimmy,” Maddock said. “He’s talented and has access to some really obscure stuff.”
“Not necessarily legally,” Bones added.
Maddock ran through Jimmy’s list, growing more discouraged as Avery eliminated each possibility. Finally, he was down to the final two items.
“Trinity Church, on Wall Street,” he began.
“Nope. Nothing belonging to Kidd in their archives. I’ve been there several times, and so had Dad.”
“But they just added the journal of a William Vesey.”
Avery sat up straight, her eyes boring into Maddock with raptor-like intensity.
“I take it that’s somebody important?” Bones asked over his coffee mug.
“He was the first rector of Trinity Church,” Avery said. “He served there while Kidd was a member.”
“Jimmy read an email from the donor to an archivist at the church which says it includes an account of Kidd’s confession to Vesey and,” he paused for dramatic effect, “Vesey alludes to a treasure map.”
“How did he get access to their... oh, never mind.” Avery took a sip of her tea and pondered this new information. “No mention of
a chest?”
“Not in the email. Jimmy would have mentioned it. But maybe in the journal?”
“It’s possible,” she mused. “I’ve researched Vesey and there’s no indication that he ever possessed a sea chest, but maybe Kidd told him where one or more could be found. It’s worth following up on. Anything else on the list?”
“It’s not specifically a sea chest, but there’s a chest connected with the Poe Museum. It once belonged to Edgar Allan Poe.”
“No connection to Kidd?” Bones asked.
“No. I guess he made the connection because I included The Gold-Bug in the list of Dad’s research items.”
“Poe was a Kidd aficionado,” Avery said. “But I’ve been to the Poe Museum and there were no chests there that fit the bill.”
“So, cross Baltimore off the list,” Maddock said.
“You mean Richmond,” Avery corrected.
“No, the Poe House and Museum in Baltimore.”
“What? That place is tiny. There’s almost nothing there, and definitely no sea chest.” Avery stood and began pacing.
“She’s definitely got that Maddock intensity,” Bones observed before breaking into laughter as Maddock and Avery shot dirty looks his way.
“He’s added a link here, let me check it out.” Maddock tapped on the hyperlink Jimmy provided and it opened to an article from the Baltimore Sun, in which a director at the Baltimore Maritime Museum bemoaned the city’s refusal to continue funding the Poe House. Maddock read it over twice and saw no mention of a sea chest. “I don’t see anything here.”
Avery snatched his phone away and read the article. Frown lines appeared in her brow and disappeared almost immediately.
“It’s in the picture!” She tapped on the image that accompanied the article. “You missed it because it’s so tiny on the screen, but check it.” She held up the phone for both to see and, sure enough, a wooden chest sat on a shelf in the background over the director’s shoulder. “You’ve never seen it, but this is an exact match for the Kidd chest that Dad discovered!”
“Do you think this director guy found this chest at the Poe House and helped himself to it?”
“Could be. Even if this is a Kidd chest, unless you know what’s inside, it doesn’t have much value. I can see how someone who admires Poe and also loves maritime history could give in to temptation.”
“That would explain why it’s never been identified as a Kidd chest. As far as anyone knew, it was just another wooden chest that Poe stored his crap in,” Bones interjected. “Who knows, it might have been gathering dust in an attic somewhere until this guy found it.”
“I think they’re both worth checking out. Which one do we follow up on first?”Avery asked.
“New York’s on the way to Baltimore,” Bones said.
Maddock nodded.
“Wall Street here we come.”
“Questioning her will not get us anywhere.” Locke shook his head and closed the door behind him. He had hoped Bonebrake’s sister would be a reliable source of information, but it was not to be.
“Are you certain? I could use some more... intense techniques.” Shears ran his hand over his shaved scalp. He wasn’t prone to the excesses that made Fisher so erratic, but such efforts were not needed.
“No. She told me everything she knew, which is not much.”
“With all due respect, where’s the harm in making certain?” Shears didn’t quite meet his eye as he spoke. Clearly, he had more on his mind than gathering information.
“Torture only motivates the victim to tell you whatever they think you want to hear.” Locke kept his tone patient, though frustration was wearing on him. He dreaded his next call to Morgan. He needed a breakthrough. “Besides, if we keep her largely intact, we might possibly make use of her.”
“How do you mean?” Shears asked.
“Never mind. Just keep an eye on her and let me know when she’s fully awake. She and I are going to make a telephone call.” He left Shears to guard the cell. Dane Maddock had stolen the prize out from under his nose, but now Locke had a bargaining chip.
Returning to his office, he logged onto his computer and performed a search on Angelica Bonebrake. He had not expected to find much, perhaps a social networking page from which he could glean a few bits of useful information, but the pages of hits that filled his screen took him aback. The girl was a professional fighter and a minor celebrity.
He stroked his chin and smiled. He did not yet have a treasure to give to Morgan, but this girl’s unique set of skills would make her a perfect plaything for Morgan’s little games.
Chapter 20
“This is most unexpected, Sisters.” Morgan ushered Tamsin and Rhiannon into her private study. “Our next meeting is not for two days.”
“We felt it was necessary for us to come early,” Tamsin said. “We are certain you were eager to share your news with us.”
“Of course.”
Three chairs formed a triangle in the center of the room. They met in the middle, joined hands, and spoke the ritual words. As the ancient speech rolled across her tongue, Morgan felt a strong kinship to their forebears. She could almost feel the power coursing through her veins. How satisfying it would be when the three were made one again, and she wielded a power long forgotten by the world.
When the ritual ended, they took their seats and Morgan began her explanation.
“It’s nothing really,” Morgan said. “I have received yet another request to run for Parliament along with a hint that I would make for a fine Prime Minister.”
“That is not what I’m talking about.” Tamsin glowered at her. “What have you found at the island?”
It was the question Morgan had anticipated the moment they had appeared at her doorstep, and she was prepared.
“I have news, though it is not all I had hoped it would be.” She described in great detail the Templar church that had been discovered beneath Oak Island, omitting the smaller chamber where the lost item, whichever one it was, had been kept. She showed them the photographs researchers had taken, apologizing that she had not assembled them into a proper presentation.
“So you see,” she finished, “the discovery confirms that the Templars did, in fact, reach Oak Island, but we have not recovered any of the items we seek.” She gave a false sigh. “If the news had been better, I would have summoned you immediately but, considering the limited success of our search, I was not eager to give you my report.” There. That should settle them.
“Do we have any leads on the artifact that was stolen from the church, or on the man who took it?”
Morgan froze in the act of shutting off her computer. How had Tamsin come by this information? She knew all of her sister’s key operatives and their activities and whereabouts. None of them could have possibly known. And Rhiannon’s base of power lay in the church, so she could not be the source. It was a conundrum that would require her attention, but not right now. Now was the time to stand firm.
“Locke is working on it,” she said simply. Maintaining her calm exterior, she returned to her seat, sat with her hands folded in her lap, and smiled at Tamsin. Ordinarily, Morgan would not waste time sitting in silence, but she knew Tamsin put great store in such trifles as not being the first to speak, thinking it somehow gave her power. Let her believe that. Right now, Morgan could use it to her own advantage. She watched as Tamsin’s cheeks reddened and she began to chew on her lip and fidget slightly until finally she could take no more.
“What is this plan?” Her voice was hot with anger.
“We have taken into custody a young woman who is close to the culprit. When he has finished questioning her, Locke will arrange an exchange. The girl for what was taken.”
“Details, please.” These were the first words Rhiannon had spoken, and her velvety voice betrayed no emotion. Of the two, she posed the greater potential threat to Morgan. Tamsin had no guile, while Rhiannon was cool and calculating. Tamsin had authority, but lacked the ability to capt
ure the hearts and minds of the people. Rhiannon was beloved as a spiritual leader, though if the world knew her true religion, she would be cast down. Fortunately, Rhiannon had never given any indication that her position, a step below Morgan, chafed at all.
Morgan could see no use in prevaricating. She outlined Locke’s plan, assuring them that the long sought-after treasure would be in their hands in a matter of days.
“Do we know which of the three it is?” Rhiannon maintained her calm, courteous manner.
“No.” Morgan had her suspicions, based on accounts of the thieves’ escape, but she would not share them.
“Very well,” Tamsin sighed. “I need not remind you that the plan...”
“I know, Sister.”
“Then you understand our concern,” Rhiannon said smoothly. “The window of opportunity is a small one. If our quest confounds us again, we will be forced to wait.”
“Need I remind you that, a few days ago, we were utterly without hope?” Morgan met their stares each in turn. “Now that hope is rekindled, and I am doing everything in my power to see to it that we do not miss this opportunity. But do not forget, Sisters, the mere possession of any of these artifacts is no small thing. We can use them to cement our power and entrench ourselves in the imaginations of the people. We will be queens!”
“You will be Queen,” Rhiannon corrected. “Your bloodline is more direct than ours.”
Morgan smiled at the thought. Prime Minister was well within her reach, but her aim was higher. She longed for the day they could finally set the plan in motion. A wave of change was about to sweep the world, and she would ride its crest.
“Sister, do we know the thief’s name?” Tamsin seemed, if not cowed, at least placated.
“Maddock,” Morgan said. “Dane Maddock.”
Chapter 21
Trinity Church sat at the corner of Wall Street and Broadway. Its ornate spire, nearly three hundred feet high, stood in stark contrast to the modern buildings all around. A wrought iron fence ringed the property, as if to stave off the intrusion of city life. Maddock found it disorienting to look upon the centuries-old brown stone church, the gothic architecture, and the historical cemetery, with its weathered gravestones, crypts, and monuments, then turn his head to see congested streets choked with taxi cabs and sidewalks where pedestrians navigated an obstacle course of vendors’ carts and gawking sightseers. He, Bones, and Avery paused in front of it, taking a moment to admire the famed landmark.