by Jolyn Sharp
“But I’ve always assumed it was their private dealing—and the way they spent their money—that gave plausibility to the story of the Burke Hoard. Many folks knew that the Burkes had some liquor and some money, so it was easy enough to believe they had a lot more.” Hank shrugged. “Wishful thinking again, perhaps.”
Gus was nodding. “Well, that explains some of the things my grandfather used to say. It was his father, Willard, who started the story of the Burke Hoard, and both his widow and my grandmother denied it outright. But Grandfather, especially when he got old, liked to drop little hints about it. He’d never directly confirm the story, but he’d make a show of not fully denying it, either. And he’d make cryptic comments like ‘the Burkes got theirs back from the Pages’ that he wouldn’t explain.” He looked at Hank. “I’m thinking now that he was referring to this little side business you’ve just described.”
Hank nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”
“But what about young Lionel?” Annie said earnestly. “How did he respond to these cryptic remarks of your grandfather’s? You said a minute ago that he dreamed of finding the Burke Hoard.”
Gus’s face grew troubled. “That’s true. He spent much more time with Grandfather than the rest of us, and he loved those stories. And when we were young, he’d talk about finding the Burke Hoard. Well, when we were very young, it was a game we’d all play, like pirates or cowboys and Indians. But as we got older, we used to tease Bucky whenever he started talking about finding the Burke Hoard, and eventually he stopped. I figured he’d outgrown it like the rest of us. Once or twice as an adult, he’s mentioned the Burke Hoard, but then he would always pass it off as a kind of joke.
“But I suppose it’s possible that he continued to believe the story.”
Hank continued to look skeptical. “I don’t see how a grown man—” he began, but trailed off.
“People can convince themselves of some pretty outlandish things,” Alice said. “And if this Lionel is in financial trouble? The construction industry hasn’t been too strong the past couple of years. And apparently his wife has now left him?” Gus nodded. “Well, he could be feeling pretty desperate,” she concluded. “And desperate people can do some pretty strange things.”
They all considered this for a few moments, until finally Hank said, “But anyway, what has this all got to do with the smuggler’s map? We still haven’t figured out why he went to so much effort to steal that.”
“But don’t you see?” Annie said with a sly smile. “Think of how the beach was all dug up at that last cove today.” She could see the understanding begin to dawn in their eyes. “He doesn’t think it’s a smuggler’s map,” she continued, “or he doesn’t think that’s all it is. He thinks it’s an actual treasure map. He thinks it will help him find the Burke Hoard.”
22
The next morning the four met in the parking lot of the police station and walked in together. Chief Edwards was standing at the desk, talking with the dispatcher who sat on the other side. He held a sheaf of papers in his hands and occasionally peered at them through half-spec reading glasses as he explained something. When he looked up and saw them come trooping in together, he merely raised his eyebrows a bit and ushered them into a small conference room “so we’ll have enough chairs.”
Once they were seated, Annie’s companions all turned toward her. She suddenly felt shy of making her accusation. “Chief Edwards,” she began, “I know who the man with the goatee is.”
The chief nodded. “Lionel Burke.”
“You know?” Annie cried in surprise.
The chief gave her a small smile. “Of course I do. You said this man with the goatee was someone known to David Coyne, so I asked him. Apparently, Mr. Burke has been in the area for weeks.” He inclined his head slightly, inviting her to continue.
“The thing is, Chief, I now believe that he’s the man who broke into my house.”
The chief merely said, “And why is that, Mrs. Dawson?” in a mild tone.
Annie began to recount her experience of the previous evening. Before she’d gone far, she finally penetrated the chief’s unflappable demeanor. “You saw him on Main Street? Last night?” the chief exclaimed, and then gave a rueful laugh. “I’ve been looking for him for two days to talk to him. Well, well. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Dawson; please continue.”
So Annie described their experiences and theory, with occasional contributions from the others. The chief, his equilibrium restored, remained silent and attentive throughout. When they were finished, he pursed his lips and sat silently for a moment. “The Burke Hoard,” he said, though more thoughtfully than derisively.
But Annie’s mind was dwelling on another concern. “Chief Edwards,” she said, “Hank has pointed out the … less than definitive nature of my identification of this Lionel Burke. I had to come to you because I feel quite certain in my own mind of what I say, but at the same time, I must admit the validity of Hank’s argument. I would feel terrible if this man’s life were … made difficult because of me, and it turned out he was innocent after all.”
The chief gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Dawson. In the police force, we learn to take all the information we get with a grain of salt, even the most unimpeachable eyewitness statements. If Mr. Burke’s life ends up being made difficult, it certainly won’t happen only on the basis of your say-so.
“But the fact is, I’ve been wanting to speak with Mr. Burke for a couple of days, and now I want to do so even more.” He turned toward Gus. “Has he been in contact with you, Mr. St. Pierre?” Gus nodded and told the story of Burke’s visit to the center. “But you’ve not given him a place to stay, as Mr. Coyne did?” the chief asked. And when Gus said no, he continued, “Any idea where he might be staying?”
Gus hesitated a moment, and then explained about Agnes Burke’s cabin on Waring Lake. But he’d hardly finished before the chief was shaking his head. “No, Mr. Coyne told me the same thing, but Burke’s not there. Or rather, it seems that he has been there, but he’s not now. I had a look in the windows, and there are signs of quite recent occupancy,” he hesitated, cocking an eye at Gus to see if he would object to his prying into the cabin, “but every time I’ve sent someone by, nobody’s been home. And that includes the middle of the night last night.
“No, I think he’s found somewhere else to stay. Possibly,” he added with a grimace, “because I left my card in the door the first time I went out there. I think now maybe I spooked him. Can you think of anywhere else he might go, Mr. St. Pierre? Am I correct that you and Mr. Coyne are the only family that he’s got left in the area?”
“Yes,” Gus said, “everyone else has moved away. And if he’s not at the cabin … maybe he’s sleeping in his van? The money I loaned him wouldn’t last him long at a motel.”
The chief nodded his head. “I’ve got someone calling around and checking all the roadside motor inns, but we’ve come up with nothing yet. Well, we’ll put that aside for the moment. You’ve mentioned your trip yesterday to look at these coves. Tell me more about that.”
Hank took the lead in describing their examination of the coves and their conclusions that, despite more recent construction, the nature and location of the coves generally supported the theory that the embroidery was a map of smugglers’ rendezvous. “Though I guess that’s now kind of a moot point,” Hank concluded, “if Annie is correct that Lionel Burke stole the map because he thinks it will help him find the Burke Hoard.”
The chief completed some notes he’d been taking and then looked up at Annie. “And you think, Mrs. Dawson, that these signs of digging that you saw were evidence that Lionel Burke was looking for his treasure.”
“It seemed to make sense to me,” she said diffidently.
“So if Burke is also out visiting these coves,” the chief said thoughtfully, “how’s he going about it? He doesn’t have access to a boat as you folks do.”
“A boat!” Gus exclaimed. “Yes, of course he does. Hi
s sister has a sailboat. Bucky could be using that just as he used her cabin. In fact, well, it’s not a huge boat, but it’s certainly possible to sleep aboard it. That may be where he went after he left the cabin.”
The chief was nodding vigorously. “And where does your cousin keep her boat, Mr. St. Pierre?”
****
Stony Point was a quiet town, hardly a pit of lawlessness, but even so, the chief of police had many responsibilities and demands upon his time. Therefore, it was not until much later in the afternoon that he was able to begin the forty-five minute drive up to Pirate’s Cove Marina to see if he could track down Lionel Burke, or at least find out if he’d been using his sister’s sailboat.
He could have sent Peters, but he hated to send him so far out of town during his shift, in case he was needed. And he couldn’t ask him to go on his own time, though that was just what he was doing himself. It was a bad habit, as his wife constantly pointed out, working off the clock. But Edwards figured that went with being the chief.
At least it was a nice afternoon for a drive. The cruiser purred along up the coast road; in part of his mind, Chief Edwards was happy for the excuse to have the excursion. In a few more weeks, the road would be thick with summer people, but for the moment, there was little traffic, and he could relax. Almost immediately, however, he was frowning again; he sure hoped he could clear up this business about the map before the annual summer influx and all the problems that went with having the population of the town more or less double overnight.
Could Annie Dawson be right that Lionel Burke had stolen the map? She was a level-headed lady, and she seemed very certain. But even she admitted that the conditions for a positive ID from her home invasion were not ideal. On the other hand, Edwards had no problem casting Burke as a suspect. He remembered the man from his previous time in the area. He was not an evil guy, not malicious or cruel, but he did have poor judgment and poor impulse control, and he wasn’t the brightest. It was an unfortunate combination of traits that had landed many before him in hot water.
And he was now apparently under some degree of personal stress as well, if his cousins were to be believed. Both David Coyne and Gus St. Pierre had mentioned that Burke’s wife had left him and taken their child with her. Something like that was enough to drive smarter men than Bucky Burke to do something stupid. But looking for buried treasure? The chief shook his head. He’d heard vague rumors of the Burke Hoard, but he didn’t see how anybody could believe them. Even still, he had put in a call to the police in Burke’s town of residence in Massachusetts to see if he could get any information about the man’s financial situation.
Lost in thought, the chief almost missed the turn for the road that would take him down to Pirate’s Cove. Haven’t been down this way in years, he thought to himself. The chief often daydreamed about buying a sailboat himself. He didn’t know where he’d find the money to do so, or if he did, when he’d find the time to sail it, but it was a recurring fantasy. He thought that while he was down here, he could check out the marina as a place to keep his own boat someday—when he got it. He smiled at the thought. As he turned to drive in to the marina, he began looking about to get a sense of the place.
Besides, he needed to find someone who could tell him where Agnes Burke’s boat was docked.
But even as he was scanning the few buildings, looking for some kind of office, he became aware of a van that was coming in his direction, exiting the marina. Didn’t Coyne say that Lionel Burke drove a van? A glance at the tags showed Massachusetts registration, and he looked up at the driver, trying to put a friendly expression on his face.
He found himself looking into eyes wide with panic. Before he could start to wave the driver down, the van heaved slightly and accelerated rapidly toward the exit. Burke took the turn out onto the road so fast, Chief Edwards thought the van might flip over on its side. He performed a rapid Y-turn to reverse direction but then sighed and stopped the cruiser. He’d seen faces with that expression before; giving chase would only cause Burke to run faster and likely would result in an accident. Possibly Burke would only drive himself off the road, but he might instead run headlong into somebody coming from the other direction. Perhaps, without the spur of flashing lights behind him, Burke might be a little less reckless in his flight.
The chief debated for a moment how he could justify roadblocks and how much assistance he might expect from the state police. Then he reached for his radio. Years of practice had allowed him to note and retain the license plate number, and now he called it in and gave the request that set state officers to wait for Burke. He started driving back toward town, traveling at a normal speed but keeping careful watch on the margins for signs that the van had gone off the road.
Whatever else Lionel Burke might or might not have done, he had now clearly fled from the police, and the chief needed to find out why.
23
Annie was nervous about the dinner with the Coynes. Now that she knew who Lionel Burke was, how could she not tell David Coyne that she had accused his cousin of breaking into her house and of later stealing the map?
As they were driving out to the Youngstown Arms, Annie had filled Mary Beth in on all the developments. “I just feel like I’d be in such a false position,” Annie said, “accepting their hospitality without telling them this.”
Mary Beth frowned. “I don’t know, Annie,” she said doubtfully. “They’ve had so much trouble already.”
Annie glanced at her friend. “That doesn’t sound like the forthright Mary Beth I know,” she said. “I think that if you were in my position, it would be the first thing out of your mouth when you walked through the door.”
Mary Beth laughed. “Yes, you’re probably right,” she admitted. “Though that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the right thing to do. Much as it pains me to admit it,” she added in a facetious tone. “Still,” she continued after a moment, “they’re going to find out about it eventually, aren’t they? It’s not like it’s going to remain a secret. And so, probably the sooner they know, the better.”
Annie nodded. “Yes, but the problem is actually telling them.”
Mary Beth reached over and patted her arm. “Just wait for the right moment,” she advised. “I’m sure it will come.”
****
Laura Coyne greeted them warmly when they arrived. Once again, Annie was struck by the contrast between the current state of the apartment and its dismal atmosphere the first time she had visited. Both children greeted Mary Beth with enthusiasm, and Megan immediately drew Annie into a discussion of several mystery novels she’d recently read. David Coyne smiled genially but said little beyond offering them something to drink.
Soon the conversation was flowing so smoothly that all thoughts of the map and of Lionel Burke retreated to the back of Annie’s consciousness. Yet whenever she looked up and saw David gazing benevolently at everyone, she felt again a pang of anxiety; she just wasn’t finding an opportunity to broach the subject. She even felt a little surprised that it didn’t come up of its own accord; after all, the break-in at the Historical Society and the theft of the map had been one of the chief topics of conversation around town for two days. Then she reflected that the Coynes had plenty of worries without listening to town gossip, and she felt a little ashamed.
After a while, Megan and Mary Beth each had several knitting projects out that they were comparing and showing around. Annie thought she perhaps should try to speak quietly to David about her concerns. Just as she was working up the nerve to do so, however, Laura announced that dinner was served. Everyone else jumped up to go to the table, but Annie sat miserably in her seat. After a moment, the others noticed her, and Megan asked quietly if something was wrong. Annie saw Mary Beth’s look of sympathy and took her courage in her hands.
“I’m sorry, folks, but before we eat, I just need to tell you something that concerns, well, a member of your family.” Slowly and with much hesitation, she explained her suspicions about Lionel Burke.
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“I’ve only just learned that he is your cousin, David.” Despite her nervousness, she kept her eyes fixed on David as she spoke. When she finished, however, she looked around at the rest of the family. The children appeared stunned, but Laura merely seemed sad and concerned, not surprised. Annie brought her gaze back to David, whose face was impassive.
Finally, he said, “Well, if that’s true, then I’m very sorry for the trouble my family has caused you, Annie.” He paused for another thoughtful moment and then shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out in good time.” Visibly making an effort to recover his good cheer, he gestured toward the table and asked, “Shall we eat?”
Perhaps inevitably, the conversation continued to be a little strained for some time. But David was clearly determined not to let the news put a damper on the dinner, and the children, recovering quickly from their surprise, were soon once again in high spirits. Laura seemed a bit more subdued, though Annie thought it arose from concern for her husband more than anything else. Annie also made an effort to be a convivial guest, and she felt unburdened now that she had said her piece. After a while everyone relaxed, and the meal flowed smoothly.
They had cleaned their plates and Laura had just mentioned dessert, however, when they suddenly heard the sound of someone pounding up the stairs in the hallway. This was immediately followed by a banging on the apartment door.
David, looking concerned and perplexed, jumped up to open it. He’d no sooner unbolted it than Lionel Burke came pushing his way into the apartment.
“Davey, Davey,” he was saying as he entered. “Hey, man, good to see you again. Listen, you gotta help me out, man!” Here he turned and grabbed David by the shoulders. “Please, you gotta loan me your car. Can you do that?”