Garden of Death

by Chrystle Fiedler

  “With permission from Lion Gardiner’s grandson Jonathan, Kidd buried thirty thousand dollars of treasure in a ravine between Bostwick’s Point and the Gardiner Manor House. To the best of our knowledge, this treasure consisted of gold dust, silver bars, gold Spanish coins, rubies, and diamonds.

  “Before Kidd left, he warned the Gardiners that if the treasure was stolen, he would kill the entire family. But when he arrived in Boston, he was captured, sent back to England for trial, and later executed.”

  Jackson leaned over to me. “It sounds like Kidd’s treasure was just on the island.”

  Professor Russell continued. “When the governor of New York ordered the Gardiners to deliver the treasure, some of it was missing. The rest has never been recovered.”

  I whispered in Jackson’s ear, “See, some of it is still missing.”

  “Today, a boulder with a bronze tablet marks the spot where Kidd’s treasure was buried,” Russell went on “There is also some evidence that leads us to believe that Kidd may have buried treasure at the foot of Montauk Point, in two small ponds named Money Ponds. That, also, was never recovered.” The professor closed the notebook in front of him and said, “Now, I’m happy to answer your questions.”

  We sat through the question-and-answer period without saying anything, waiting for everyone else to leave. It was bad enough that Sandra and Martin knew about the sword. Now that she had bonded with Greenport Merchants United, I was sure that the entire group, including Maggie and Harold, either already knew about it—or would soon know. I didn’t really want to let anyone else in on our find.

  Nearly twenty minutes later, Professor Russell said, “I think that’s all the time we have for questions, so—” But then he stopped and pointed to someone in the back. “Go ahead, sir.”

  I turned around to look and saw that it was Harold. He stood up and said, “Thank you, Professor. You mentioned the pirate treasure on Gardiner’s Island and in Montauk, but I was wondering if this type of thing has ever been found here on the North Fork. There are rumors to that effect. I’ve been hearing them since I moved out here twenty years ago.”

  I grabbed Jackson’s hand and squeezed. Did he know about what we’d found? Had Sandra or Martin told him?

  Professor Russell smiled. “I’ve heard those rumors, too, but so far, there isn’t any proof that pirates buried anything in Greenport.”

  “Thank you, Professor,” Harold said. I turned to look at him again, and he gave me a smug smile.

  The professor ended the Q and A, then signed his books for the long line of people who had purchased them. We waited until the book signing was over and everyone had left before we got up and approached the professor. Jackson put the duffel bag on the table, where it landed with a soft thunk.

  “What do we have here?” Professor Russell asked.

  “We need your expertise, Professor,” Jackson said. He took the earring, sword, and goblet out of the bag and set them on the table. “We found these items buried in Willow’s garden, and we need to know if they could be pirate treasure.”

  “This is Willow McQuade, by the way,” Simon said quickly. “And this is Jackson Spade, and I’m Simon Lewis.”

  The professor gave us all a nod of acknowledgment, then carefully picked up the earring. He examined it then moved on to the sword and the goblet. When he was finished, he said, “You say you found them in your garden? Where is this place exactly?”

  “It’s located in Greenport, next to Nature’s Way Market & Café on Front Street,” I answered. “The land is to the west of the store, actually. We’ve been working there since this spring, digging it up and planting medicinal plants. That’s where we found them.”

  “That’s quite a story.” He picked up the sword again, peering at the pommel and its blood-red gem.

  “There’s more,” I said. “Since then, we’ve discovered several holes in the garden and last night, someone was in the garden, but they got away before we could find out who it was. He or she left a shovel behind, which we’ve turned over to the police. They’re investigating, since a local doctor was murdered in the garden on Saturday morning.”

  The professor’s expression sharpened. “Dr. White, that’s who you’re talking about, right?”

  “Did you know him?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. He was my mother’s orthopedic surgeon. She fell in her kitchen and broke her arm. It took forever for him to do the surgery, and after he operated, she was left with chronic pain that was very debilitating. She suffered until the day she died.”

  “My condolences,” I said.

  “Thank you. Dr. White was supposed to be here tonight, you know. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing him. But if he had come, he would have gotten a piece of my mind, I’ll tell you that. My mother suffered greatly because of him. Of course she was just a number to him. He never even used her name when he treated her.”

  “We’ve been told that he wasn’t a very nice man or very well liked,” I said. “So why was he coming to see you?”

  “From what I could gather, Dr. White studied anthropology in college before he switched to orthopedics. But he continued to pursue the field in his off time, you know, taking vacations to historic dig sites, museums, and the like. He said he had something he wanted to talk to me about.”

  “But he didn’t tell you what it was?” Jackson asked.

  “No, he didn’t. Now that he’s dead, I can’t help wondering what he had on his mind.”

  “Me, too,” Simon said.

  “I’m afraid it will have to remain a mystery.” Professor Russell picked up the sword again. “But perhaps I can help you. The sword and the goblet might be artifacts from the era when pirates visited the East End.”

  “Might be?” Simon echoed.

  “Exactly. The goblet is possible but doubtful. It isn’t quite the right style for that era, but the sword is. If it’s the real thing, it should be in a museum. On the black market, it would be worth a fortune. That’s why there are so many good fakes out there.” He leaned in and examined the stone. “The only way to know for sure is to send all of these items to a lab to have them analyzed. The wood, metal, and these stones can be verified and, hopefully, dated. But I just can’t make any guarantees simply by looking at them.”

  “What about the earring?” Jackson asked.

  “Not seventeenth century,” the professor said. “I’m guessing it’s either Victorian or Edwardian, but again, you need to have it professionally appraised to get any sense of its true history and value.”

  Simon looked disappointed. “So you can’t tell us if the sword and goblet are from Captain Kidd’s missing treasure?”

  “Not simply by looking at them, no. You might take them into Christie’s or Sotheby’s in Manhattan,” he suggested, naming two major auction houses. “Their experts might be able to help you.”

  Simon looked annoyed. “Last time I brought something into Sotheby’s for an appraisal, it took weeks for them to get back to me. We don’t have weeks. We need to sort out this out quickly.”

  Professor Russell glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I need to be going. But let me think about it overnight. Why don’t you call me in the morning?” He pulled a card from his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

  “That sounds great,” I said. “Thank you so much for your help.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he said, giving me a warning look. “I’m afraid that you may be involved in something far more complicated than you know. If people think there is something of value in your garden, you’ll find no peace. People act very strangely when it comes to buried treasure. There has already been one murder in your garden. There’s no telling what could happen next.”

  • • •

  Outside, Simon headed for his car, while Jackson and I walked back to Nature’s Way. “Well, that was interesting,” I said as we strolled past the Blu
e Canoe restaurant on Third Street. “Not only what the professor had to say, but Harold as well. I think he knows. He gave me such a smug smile after he asked that question.”

  “Word spreads fast in a small town, especially about something like pirate treasure. Or maybe he already knew.”

  “If that’s the case, maybe he and Dr. White were both looking for the treasure in the garden, they fought, and Harold killed him.”

  Jackson shrugged. “Harold’s an arrogant ass, but I can’t quite see him as a murderer. But maybe they were partners and they had a falling out. These things happen. Regardless, that intruder last night proves that whoever it is isn’t done looking.”

  “Which means they’ll probably be back tonight.” We came to the light on Front Street, took a right, and headed past the movie theater.

  “Let’s hope the lock on the gate will dissuade them, but what you really need is a twenty-four-hour guard.”

  “That’s not the image I’m trying to project.”

  “Maybe not, but it might be necessary until we figure this out. Let me see if I can find someone to help you, just at night, to patrol and keep any interested onlookers away.”

  “Okay,” I said, relenting. “You know best about security matters.”

  He kissed me. “Thank you.” He pointed at the garden up ahead. “At least it’s quiet right now.”

  But as we got closer, we could see that someone had spray painted graffiti all over the fence and the garden gate in huge, ugly neon letters: Shut Down the Garden of Death and Evict Nature’s Way Now!

  “This is so hateful,” I said, beginning to tremble. “So awful.”

  “It’s really getting out of control,” Jackson agreed. He pulled out his penlight and stepped closer to examine the damage.

  “Who would do something like this? The garden was supposed to be a haven, a restful place in the heart of Greenport.”

  Jackson pulled me into a hug. “It’s going to be okay. It’s nothing that can’t be covered with some black spray paint.”

  “And then what? First, Dr. White is murdered, then someone digs up the garden, then the petition and that horrible Web site, the intruder last night, those protestors, and now the graffiti. What’s next?”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Take a deep breath. You need to calm down. Don’t borrow trouble.”

  “I’ve got plenty right now.” The graffiti was a reminder that I couldn’t ignore. “I can’t look at this. Let’s go inside.”

  • • •

  I changed into my sweats and a T-shirt and got into bed, where Jackson was already playing with the dogs. Jackson gave me an appraising look and said, “You need to turn your mind off, McQuade. You’ve had a long day.”

  I took a tube of honey and grape seed oil hand cream from my night table and began rubbing it in. “I just keep thinking that I really made a mistake in creating that garden. Look at all the trouble it’s caused.”

  Jackson scratched Qigong behind the ears, then in turn, Rockford and Columbo. “Greedy people are causing this trouble, not the garden.”

  “Maybe we should close it down.”

  Jackson gave me a surprised look. “What do you mean—just give up? That’s not like you, Willow.”

  “I don’t want to fight with anyone,” I said. “I’m tired of having half the town against me, trying to take the garden. Maybe I should just give it to them.”

  “I think you’d regret that,” Jackson said. “Especially since Professor Russell might be the key to figuring this whole thing out, and he told you to call him tomorrow. You just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other.”

  “And maybe Professor Russell will leave me just as stuck as I am right now. He couldn’t tell me anything definitive tonight, so I’m not going to count on him having some miraculous key to the case.”

  Jackson thought for a moment before he said, “You know what, you’re right. Why don’t you just give up? It’s definitely the easier thing to do. It’s not like there’s anything at stake—like your business and all the hard work you put into the garden. Let them win.”

  He picked up his book, opened it and began reading. The dogs quickly arranged themselves, Qigong on his shoulder, Rockford on his stomach and Columbo at his feet.

  “I thought you wanted me to be safe. If I quit, I’ll be safe.”

  He used the book flap as a bookmark and looked at me. “Of course I want you to be safe. But if you quit, if we quit, there’s a good chance that we’ll still be in danger. Someone wants what’s in that garden, and they won’t stop until they get it. But if you want to quit, go ahead. It’s up to you.” He opened the book and began reading again. Qigong looked up at me, yawned, and put his head back down. I had to admit that they all looked pretty cute together.

  “Are you using reverse psychology on me?”

  Jackson smiled but kept reading. “Is it working?”

  “Yes, it’s working. You’re right. There’s too much at stake to give up. Besides,” I said reluctantly, “I never give up.”

  He closed the book and gave me a kiss. “That’s my girl.”

  “I’ll call Professor Russell first thing in the morning, on my way to get black spray paint.”

  “You always were a good multitasker. I’ll contact my security guy and meet you in the garden. I need to work on the patio, so you’ll have your open-air teahouse.” He took the hand cream away and put it on the nightstand. “Now, what can we do to pass the time until then?” He gently moved the dogs to the side of the bed, where they snuggled next to each other and promptly fell asleep again.

  “Gee, I don’t know. Got any ideas?”

  He pulled me to him. “Just one.”

  chapter sixteen

  Willow McQuade’s

  Favorite Medicinal Plants

  GARLIC

  Botanical name: Allium sativum

  Medicinal uses: Garlic is an edible bulb from a plant in the lily family, and one of the superstars of medicinal plants. It has been used as both a medicine and a spice for thousands of years. Antiseptic, antibacterial, and antimicrobial, garlic stimulates the production of white blood cells, improving immunity and helping to speed healing from colds and flu. There is a reason Grandma’s chicken soup makes you feel better! Garlic also is effective at lowering high cholesterol and blood sugar levels. You can eat garlic cloves raw if you’re feeling brave or add them to your next soup or stir-fry.

  Tuesday morning found me out in the garden, spraying black paint over the ugly graffiti. When I’d started, I was furious that I had to repaint the fence at all, but gradually, as the graffiti disappeared, I felt better about things. It was just after 10 a.m., and I’d just covered the last of the neon lettering, when my cell rang. The caller ID read Albert Russell.

  “Professor Russell, thanks for calling me back,” I said.

  “Not at all. I’m glad you phoned.”

  “I realized I have a lot of questions I didn’t ask you last night,” I began. “I was wondering if you could stop by this morning. Or I could come to Shelter Island, whatever you prefer. Is that possible?”

  “It is, and I can come to you,” he said. “I need to pick up a few things from your store. I have my sister staying with me, and she only eats organic food. My cupboard is bare.”

  “We’ve got plenty of that here. When were you thinking of coming over?”

  “Within the hour. I think it’s important that we discuss your artifacts further.”

  “My artifacts? Does that mean you think they’re the real thing?”

  “We’ll talk about it when I get there. Expect me by eleven.”

  I walked over to tell Jackson about our visitor. He and Nate were working on the patio at the north end of the lot. They seemed to be making progress, but it was difficult to be sure. “How are things going, guys?”

  “It’s
going,” Jackson said, wiping his forehead with his glove. “We had to take two steps back, but now we’re moving forward.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that despite the new lock, someone was in here again, digging around.”

  “Yeah, they even moved the pavers,” Nate said as he lugged over a gray paver stone and set it on the ground. “So we had to fill in the holes, smooth it out, and make sure the ground was level before we could put these back. What a pain.”

  “It’s fine, Nate. Stop complaining.” Jackson threw him a look.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked Jackson.

  “You have enough to think about.”

  “I still need to know. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure,” Jackson said, taking off his gloves. “Nate, start prepping the next paver. I’ll be right back.”

  Nate didn’t look too happy about being left on his own, but he didn’t say anything.

  When were out of earshot, Jackson said, “I am getting really tired of his complaining.”

  “Really? He seems fine to me. What’s going on?”

  “When we started to work together, Nate was enthusiastic and capable; he did everything I asked without complaint. But lately, he’s got a poor attitude and productivity to match. I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “Me either,” I said, dismayed. “But I can’t fire him now. We still need him to maintain the garden and to help you finish the teahouse.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make it work. But enough about Nate. Did you talk to Professor Russell?”

  As we continued to walk to the front of the garden I told him about our phone conversation. “He’s coming over at eleven. Do you have time to meet with him?”

  “I’d like to, but we’re way behind and I really don’t want to leave Nate alone any longer than I have to. Why don’t you report back?”

  “I could do that.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” He stepped closer. “You know, you look really pretty today.”

  I’d just thrown on a multicolored sundress made of organic cotton and flip-flops and put my hair in a ponytail, but I was glad he liked it.