The Pirate Ghost

by Laura Pender

  Tess looked around the paneled room at the sailing pictures on the walls and the books that filled the bookcases and wondered if she should tell him or not. What, for that matter, did she really know to tell? If she didn’t tell Charles, whom could she trust? Her new partner, Tommy Mott? No, they’d surely be watching him—they owned his mortgage after all—and he couldn’t help her anyway. Charles was the only one she had now... now that Gabriel was gone.

  The thought of the dashing pirate was like a rush of sea air through her brain, a wave of yearning saying Call for me! Believe in me! Oh, God, if only it were that easy. Still, the thought of him calmed her and she decided to tell the banker what she knew.

  “My husband was apparently doing his best to cheat a crooked businessman,” she told Charles. “I don’t know what he was up to, but he was playing fast and loose on a land deal and they killed him for it. Now they’re after me, too.”

  So she told him the tale as best she knew it, leaving nothing out except the part about the treasure at the bottom of the sea. Just as she began to tell him about that, she felt a sudden constriction, as though someone had clamped a hand over her mouth. And then the amulet in the pocket of her slacks seemed to grow warm. It was as if an unseen presence were guarding Gabriel’s treasure, waiting to pounce on anyone wanting a share of the spoils.

  When she’d finished her story, she sat back feeling exhausted. Charles Dumont studied the papers she’d taken from Darrell’s home office.

  “Sell it to me,” he said after a moment.

  “What?”

  “Sell the property to me and I’ll visit this Downey fellow for you. He’ll buy it from whoever has possession and then he’ll leave you alone.”

  “Why would he leave me alone?”

  “Can you prove those men were sent by him? Can you even identify them? No.” He shook his head, smiling. “He’s desperate, otherwise he’d never have resorted to strong-arm tactics. But once he’s gotten what he wants, he’ll forget you.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Please, Tess. This isn’t a vendetta. It’s only business. You can’t prove a thing about him.”

  “But I can, too I’ve got the paperwork to prove a lot about him.”

  “He doesn’t know that. You get rid of that land and then leave these papers where the police will find them. That way he’ll never know it was you that exposed his scheme.”

  “I’ve got to take this to the police right now,” Tess said. “There’s no sense fooling around.”

  “No, but face it, Tess. You’ve still got legal hurdles to get over. These few sheets of paper won’t change that.”

  Tess could see that he was right. The events of the day and the prospect of more trouble to come suddenly seemed like too much to cope with. She was so tired that she just couldn’t think anymore. All she wanted to do was go to sleep and hope it would all go away.

  “How did those guys know where to find you?” Charles asked.

  “I suppose they followed me.”

  “And where were the police? I thought they were following you.”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just don’t know.”

  Charles smiled and patted her shoulder consolingly. “You hungry?”

  “Yes, I guess I am.”

  “I’ll fix something for us,” he offered. “You rest a bit and I’ll be right back.”

  Tess watched the ocean rolling onto the beach in front of the house. The sky was blue, the threatening clouds having dissipated. It was as if nature was mocking her troubles, proving that the world kept turning without Gabriel just as it would continue no matter what happened to her.

  The room she was in didn’t really match the man. It was dark despite the large picture windows, and the paneled walls gave it a gloomy feeling that was contrary to Charles’s breezy demeanor. It was obvious that he hadn’t given much thought to redecorating since moving into the house.

  Well, he just had better things to do, that’s all. Why else would you buy a house with all its furnishings except to avoid having to decorate?

  She hadn’t seen much beyond the entrance and this room, for he’d herded her in rather quickly after their escape from Downey’s ruffians. She knew there was a deck on the second floor because it formed the roof of the patio outside the front window. The deck was probably accessed through the master bedroom. This was the only house along the beach with a second-floor deck on the ocean. There seemed to be something important about that...

  Tess let her eyes shut as she listened to the sound of the surf. The rhythm of the waves was soothing, and she let it lull her as she lay back against the corner of the overstuffed couch. It would be so nice to sleep.

  Trying to sort things out in her tired mind was pointless. Besides, it was clear now that Carl Downey had had Darrell killed. All that remained was to prove it. She fell asleep wondering how the evidence she had might convince the police to turn their attention to Carl Downey.

  “WHERE DID YOU TWO LEARN surveillance? Or, did you learn?” Detective Sergeant Wilkes turned from one to the other of the plainclothes officers as if trying to decide which one to strike first. “Maybe we should give you a three-wheeler and a chalk marker and put you on traffic patrol. How in hell did you lose a woman alone in a boat on the gulf? How?”

  “Sir, we—”

  “Never mind. Get out of here and find her! Find her or I’ll have you guarding school crossings for the next ten years!”

  He turned and stormed away from the two men, slamming the door to the squad room on his way out. Just when he was ready to haul her in with evidence that would stick, his men lost her. It wasn’t fair.

  He picked up the manila folder on his desk and smiled, saying softly to himself, “Okay, Teresa Miller, I’ve got your motive here, honey. I’ve got you right where your lawyer can’t help you.”

  The best way to find a suspect was through the suspect’s lawyer. No lawyer, especially an ambulance chaser like Chambers, wanted to be caught aiding a fugitive from justice. Not when their own license was on the line. With that thought in mind, Sergeant Wilkes left the building.

  CHARLES DUMONT STOOD in the middle of the living room watching Tess sleep, half-reclining in the corner of the couch. He smiled, then licked his lips quickly. The drug he’d put in her tea was mild, but it would keep her knocked out for a couple of hours while he took care of business.

  It would be so easy to get rid of her right now. So easy.

  But if he did, he’d never know why she was in that boat this afternoon. Curiosity more than anything else had gotten him as far as this. And his curiosity had never failed to produce a profit.

  Charles Dumont had been christened William Henry Clay thirty-six years earlier, but that name had become too well known to law enforcement officials in the New England states, so he was forced to choose another. Dumont was a good name for a man in his line of work because there was, indeed, a banking family named Dumont in Boston.

  Charles Dumont’s actual line of work had changed over the years, too. He’d started with petty theft and graduated to grand theft auto and breaking and entering. Then a brief stay in the Maine State Correctional Facility had brought him into contact with criminals of a slightly better class. “With your looks, you should be working the con,” they’d told him. “It’s a lot less work than jimmying locks after midnight and you can afford better lawyers if you get caught.”

  He had never been one for taking advice from his elders, but he took that advice and had done well with it. Charles Dumont had done very well indeed.

  He was smart, too. Smart enough and curious enough to learn all he needed to know about business, the stock market and banking. Although he was a high school dropout, he could portray himself in any business role that suited his purpose. He always used a soft sell on his marks and pulled back if they showed reluctance. He never forced his hand and risked exposure.

  Now, the name William Henry Clay was long forgotten. And as far as the police were concerne
d, he was just what he said he was, a respected Boston banker.

  Looking down at Tess, he realized he had overplayed his hand terribly this time, though. The intended victim hadn’t been nearly as stupid or greedy as he expected him to be. And Charles should never have murdered Paul Driscoll on his balcony early Sunday morning. They’d argued and Charles had struck him without thought. If he had been thinking, he surely wouldn’t have killed him in the light of the balcony doors. No, he’d been stupid.

  And other mistakes had grown from that one mistake, leading him to compound the single murder into three. If he hadn’t armed himself with that steak knife, he’d be on a flight out of the country right now. Instead, he’d killed twice more and there was still one more murder to commit.

  But murder wasn’t smart, and Charles had taken great care to act with extra intelligence since he’d killed Paul Driscoll. Even the unfortunate matter of running into Tess’s ex-husband in the yard that night had been turned to his advantage by his quick thinking. And once Tess was found dead of suicide, her lawyer’s death would make a certain amount of sense, as well.

  And none of it would be tied to him. When Paul Driscoll’s body was eventually found, there would be no link between it and Charles’s earlier crimes. But he had to kill Tess tonight for his plan to work. Walter Chambers’s body would be discovered in the morning.

  Yes, he would kill Tess tonight, making sure to do a properly amateurish job of slitting her wrists. And if the cops didn’t believe she’d committed suicide, the papers he would leave in her house would lead to Carl Downey. In the morning, Charles would empty out his second bank account, fly directly to Jamaica and from there into obscurity. If he did return to this country, he would be using another name.

  Charles Dumont was a murderer after all.

  But he had to find out about the man in the boat first. And to do that, he had to maintain Tess’s trust a bit longer.

  Smiling benignly, Charles Dumont shifted Tess gently to lie on the couch and then covered her with a blanket. “Poor baby,” he cooed, “you rest a bit while Charlie boy arranges to make some more money.”

  CARL DOWNEY WAS PACING the floor of his office, nervously chewing on a cigar. He’d tipped his hand with the strong-arm tactics, and now she’d hold him up for at least triple the price on the property. If she got the chance, that was. After all, people have accidents every day, don’t they? All he needed from her was her signature.

  The fact that she hadn’t called the police in on the matter gave him faith that she was holding out for more money. If that was her intention, he could deal with her without much problem. All he bad to do was find her.

  TESS FELL DEEPLY into a trance, her mind taking her to the place where time and memory slipped into each other, and she was able to dream her way to the other side and glimpse fragments of long-ago events

  She dreamed a history; she dreamed a prophecy. And she dreamed of the death of Gabriel Dyer A wizened and frail African man lay on the woven mat in front of her, his ribs rising and falling erratically with his labored breathing. He looked up at her, motioning with one hand for her to kneel at his side. She did so, and he said something which she didn’t understand.

  “He’s Kigani, ” someone said beside her, and she looked up at a bearded man. He wore loose cotton pants and a shirt, and a sword hung at his side on a sash. “A Congo tribe. Cannibals, I hear.”

  The African said something else, and she returned her gaze to him as he lifted his other hand, clutching something tightly in it.

  “He wants you to have it, ” her companion said. “Magic, he calls it.”

  The African held his hand out again, opening it so that she could see the face of the amulet, the bloodred stone gleaming in the dim light of the hut.

  She reached out to accept the gift, marveling as she did that her hand was broad and muscular, a man’s hand. She noticed that the nails were dirty as the fingers closed around the carved face.

  As he released the amulet, the Kigani tribesman smiled and relaxed. He closed his eyes and slept.

  “He said it will protect you, ” the other man said. “Keep you alive. But these other fellows say he only gave it to you because none of them want any part of lt.”

  Something in the man’s smile put her on guard. He seemed amused by something.

  She stood and held the amulet by the leather thong running through the eyelet atop the face. “Well, then, ” she said in Gabriel’s fine baritone, “I’ll take it gladly and wear it to guard me against the likes of you, Purcell.”

  She felt herself lift the thong, hanging the amulet around her neck. It dropped against her skin... or was it Gabriel’s muscular chest? The amulet felt cool and heavy against the skin at first, but then it grew warm.

  For a moment, she felt incredibly alive. She felt the blood coursing through Gabriel’s body, felt the strength in his arms and legs. And then the feeling faded and she felt as though she was slipping out of the body and up through the grass roof of the hut to the sky above the forest.

  And a dark-skinned woman was speaking to her, her words muffled by time as though they were too private to be shared with a stranger. She held out a ribbon of fine red silk and smiled. Tess felt like crying when she saw the love in this woman’s eyes sand felt the touch of her hand on Gabriel’s cheek and her kiss on his lips.

  But there was no time for tears because she was suddenly assailed by wind on the tossing deck of the Maria Louisa. The man called Purcell was standing at the head of a gang of sailors, brandishing a cutlass. “That black fellow called it the Ghost Maker, ” Purcell was saying. “Said you had to give it away before you died or you’ll linger on earth as a spirit. No one here will take it, you bloody fool, just as we will no longer abide your company. Goodbye, Captain Dyer!”

  Suddenly, she was falling through the air, wind and rain tearing at her clothing and the amulet spilling out of her shirt as she hit the rolling sea and slipped beneath the waves.

  She sank quickly, carried down by the weight of leather boots and waterlogged clothing, while her lungs burned with the pressure of the stale air inside them. “Sweet Mary, Mother of God, preserve this sinner on the waves. Mary, Mother of God, save me, ” Gabriel thought. Over and over, he thrashed frantically but without coordination until he hit the bottom of the gulf.

  It was Tess who grasped the amulet in both hands, thinking, “God rest my soul.” She released the burning air and let the water in. She was so tired, and it seemed so warm beneath the waves.

  And then all was darkness as she began to float back into her own world once more.

  Save me. Believe in me. A voice in the darkness, a whispering in her ear. Call me and believe. The voice of her desires—Gabriel’s voice—warmed the void around her. I’m here, lass. I’ve not gone yet. Call me. She dreamed that a flutter of silken ribbon fell into her hand, and she grasped it as a talisman of the man who wore it. Such a lovely dream. She could almost believe he was still with her, but she knew it was all just a dream. Necklace. What? Necklace. It made no sense at all.

  But it was only a dream after all.

  SERGEANT WILKES OPENED the door to Walter Chambers’s office. He found the lawyer still seated inside just as Charles Dumont was approaching the parking lot in front of the Downey Construction offices. All while Tess slept on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tess lay wrapped in the ancient rhythms, surrounded by the gentle ebb and flow of the ocean tides, the hoofbeats of animals roaming the African veld and the insect chirr of the jungle. She felt herself lifted by it all, buoyed out of confusion into certainty as she rose from the depth of her sleep. She awoke to the rays of sunset over the gulf thinking, “The view from upstairs must be wonderful at this time of day.”

  She was lying on the couch, a light blanket covering her. She felt lethargic and didn’t want to move even to turn her eyes away from the sun.

  It was very considerate of Charles to cover her like this and not wake her. Of course, he’d been her knig
ht in shining armor today, hadn’t he, coming to her rescue like that? Really, much more considerate than she’d expected.

  Tess lifted her hand to cover her eyes, and as she did, something fell against the back of her hand, brushing it as lightly as a spider walking across her skin. She moved her hand back again, examining it. A length of ribbon hung through her fingers, the red silk faded to a dusty pink.

  For a moment, she didn’t recognize what it was, then it was suddenly all too clear. Gabriel’s ribbon!

  As she stared at it, the dream came flooding back to her. She had been in Gabriel’s body, experiencing episodes of his life just as he had once experienced them. She remembered it now, all of it, but she didn’t know how or why she’d had such a dream.

  She remembered the old man who gave him the amulet, recalling especially the look of desperation in his eyes when he held it out to Gabriel. He had been pleading in his language for Gabriel to take the amulet. Pleading for someone to take the accursed token away from him lest he should die with it in his possession. For whatever protection the amulet may have given him in life, he knew that in death it would be a curse to him.

  Tess suspected that the man whom Gabriel had called Purcell had left something out of his translation. There had clearly been a grudge between them, and the man had withheld the reason the local tribe didn’t want to accept the amulet.

  She knew this story as though it was a memory of her own, but she had no idea why the ribbon was in her hand or how it came to be there. What did it mean?

  She clutched the ribbon tightly and sat up on the couch. It meant something, and she could only hope it meant something good. But for the moment, it seemed to mean that she had to get moving.

  “Charles?” she called out. “Are you here?”

  There was no response, no sound at all.

  “Charles?” Still nothing. She was obviously alone in the house. And then she remembered what she had been thinking when she awoke. Something about the view from the upper balcony.