A lethal legacy, p.20
A Lethal Legacy, page 20
Bracken walked back, shaking his head. “No way those people went off here and died the way they did. No way a body wouldn’t have hit one of those big ledges. And Craig said that Frank wrote on the sand—impossible. He couldn’t have survived this kind of a fall, even briefly. Didn’t happen.”
He paused.
“There are other entrances to that tunnel.”
“In plain sight,” she said softly.
“What?”
“The entrance...it’s not even really hidden. It’s just so low and the bracken covers it. Wherever the other entrances are, they’re in plain sight.”
“I think you’re right,” he said.
He looked around. “We’re going to go back slowly,” he said.
She wasn’t going to argue that.
“Look at every bush, every tree...every fault in and off the path.”
“Okay,” Kieran agreed. Looking at the sky, she could see that the sun was falling.
“We’ll make it back just about dark—in time for a later dinner.”
Their descent was twice as slow as the ascent had been. Partially from caution, but also because they scanned the terrain as though they were looking for a lost earring in the rocks and brush. It was going to take some time.
The sun kept falling. Oddly enough, it was that which allowed Kieran to suddenly see. A ray of the dying sun, streaking through and shifting on the side of the cliff, fell upon something that caught the light—and glinted.
“Bracken?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something...there. Just to the left, ahead.”
“Pine trees.”
“And brush. But behind...”
Bracken moved quickly. She followed him. He was already down on the ground, almost flat, looking into an opening. As she arrived, he asked her, “How the hell did you see this?”
“Something glinted.”
“Pines don’t glint.”
“Then...there’s something caught in a tree or a bush. Something lit up when a sun ray broke through. I’m not sure exactly where.”
He hunkered halfway up again, staring at her. “It’s an entrance. And when you look low enough, you can see that just below the opening, it’s smooth. Someone has used this way in—recently. I’m willing to bet that it’s the way Frank Landon was going in and out. It’s too late now, but tomorrow, we’ll get in here. There’s got to be a way through the entire system. I know we can find it in a few days’ time.” He was still staring at her, as if he might be trying to figure out just what she was.
“You’re pretty amazing—you have bloodhound in you?” he asked lightly.
“No, trust me. I really saw something glinting, and it seemed like there was a strange difference in the shadows... I think.”
He smiled. “Don’t mention anything to anyone but Craig and Mike.”
“That goes without saying,” she murmured.
“Then let’s head back—time to hear about the aliens and the Ark of the Covenant.”
When they returned to the house, they entered through the back garden. There was no sign of anyone by the pool. The rear door was locked, but when Bracken knocked, Victor Eider appeared to let them in.
“Trying to be careful—watching the place,” Victor said.
“Good idea,” Bracken said. “Well, I’m headed for the shower!”
“I’m going to freshen up, too,” Kieran murmured.
Evie was in the kitchen, directing preparations. “Guests should be arriving soon,” she said.
“Did Craig get back yet?” Kieran asked.
“Haven’t seen him,” Evie told her.
“Thanks.”
Kieran followed Bracken on through the dining room—the table was already set, crystal shining, plates gleaming, flowers all around—and through the White Room. They reached the great hall and went up the stairs. “I’ll be down in ten,” Bracken said, reaching the second floor.
“See you then.” Kieran hurried up to the attic.
She closed and locked the door to her room as soon as she was inside. All of her things were where she had left them, and yet, she couldn’t help an uneasy feeling.
Her computer bag was at a slightly different angle. The robe she had left at the foot of the bed was just slightly askew. Her suitcase had moved, just a hair.
Or had her unease caused her imagination to go off?
She didn’t know. But she wasn’t taking any chances. She pulled out her phone and called her brother; she could hear his phone ringing in the next room. He answered it quickly.
“I need you to watch my door.”
“What?”
“I’m going to take a shower. I need you to watch my door.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Please, just do it.”
She heard his heavy sigh.
“All right. I’m on it.”
“Thank you!”
She hung up and smiled. The feeling of security was exhilarating.
She showered...and showered. And, of course, remembered that Danny would just be standing in the hall.
She hopped out, dried quickly and dressed in a simple halter A-line piece and slipped on a pair of heeled sandals.
Then she headed out. Danny was there, leaning against the wall by her door.
She thought he would make fun of her.
He was frowning.
“What?”
“Someone was coming up the stairs...slowly. Quietly. I heard the stairs creaking,” he said.
“Who was it?”
He shook his head. “I heard something, and I waited. Then I ran to the landing and...whoever it was, they were gone. Damn, Kieran, just what the hell is going on?”
Thursday evening
Professor John Smith hadn’t come alone. He’d brought his assistant, Annie Green.
And Jay Harding hadn’t come alone, either. He’d brought Ben Garcia.
Finn played the charming host, all were being very polite. He had put one member of his household between each of the guests—and the alien enthusiasts at one end of the table and the scholars at the other end.
They were quite a large dinner party, but the house’s dining room could accommodate them easily—there was only one seat that had to be quickly added, and that was because Jay Harding had not informed them he was bringing Ben Garcia.
“Sorry about Ben! I hope it’s all right. He was at my place when it was time to leave,” Jay had explained, meeting Craig at the docks. Their separate boats had gotten in at about the same time.
“Not a problem,” Craig had assured him. Finn was willing to do what Craig asked, and if that meant bringing in parties who might know something, however many didn’t matter.
Because he’d gotten back to the island later than expected, Craig had no chance to have a conversation with anyone at the house before dinner started.
Now, they were all seated and the meal was underway.
“My group finds the most interesting bits of information,” Jay Harding explained, passing a large bowl of broccoli au gratin down the table, and responding to a comment John Smith had made about the merits of serious research. “We meet once a week, though it’s a come-as-you-can situation. But what we study are the events that have occurred around the globe. And by the way, Mr. Smith, a number of our people are highly educated. Priscilla and Ells Chapman were both professors of history at Midwest colleges for years before coming to New York City—they wanted to be closer to their grandchildren, who are here. They are some of the finest researchers I’ve ever met. And Rudy Stein taught in our school system, and so did his wife.”
“Jay’s group have found fascinating copies of letters—one translated from Norse—from a Sven Longbeard,” Kieran said.
“And someone in your group gave us copies of another great letter,” Danny said. “Translated from the French. A letter written by a fleeing Templar. I hope the guy made it!”
“You have a letter by a Templar?” John Smith asked, his tone doubtful and condescending.
Jay smiled, ignoring the tone. “Yes, the original letter had been authenticated by Samuel Nottingham in England—you’ve heard of the man, right?” he asked John, and he turned to Kieran and said, “We always check for the authenticity of the information we receive.”
“A letter written by a Templar, one we might not have seen,” Annie Green said. “Oh, I’d love to read it!”
“I can see that you do,” Ben Garcia told her.
“You really think that something is on this island?” Margie asked.
“Yes,” Jay Smith and John Harding said, almost in unison.
“And we’d like to extend our sympathies to you,” Annie said. “We know you’ve suffered a recent loss.”
“Yes, we did. And we plan on getting to the end of it,” Finn said.
“Do you think your friend discovered the treasure?” Smith asked Finn.
“I don’t think that he could have,” Jay Harding said. He looked around the table. “I mean, if he’d found something, he would have told one of you, right?”
Margie let out a little sound of distress.
“I’m sorry,” Harding murmured.
“He didn’t find a treasure,” Margie whispered.
“Well, I hope you all realize there may not be any kind of a treasure at all,” Elayne said.
“It’s likely that there is something on the island,” Craig said. “A pair of bank robbers died here following a sizeable heist—and we’ve recently discovered that a body we found was a young woman who was connected to them. So either they killed her, or she was exploring on her own and fell. We don’t know. But it’s more than possible they hid their haul on the island somewhere.”
“Maybe,” Ben Garcia said. “But that’s not why they died.”
“Then why did they die?” Craig asked.
“Because the Ark of the Covenant is here,” Ben said. “We believe that.”
“Ditto,” John Smith murmured.
“And,” Jay continued, “the Ark protects itself.”
“Excuse me?” Craig asked, gazing down at Kieran. She glared back at him. He silently informed her, these people are crazy.
Her look back warned him to pay attention, and he knew she was right.
Crazy might well mean involved somehow.
“Hear me out, and try to stretch your imaginations,” Jay Harding said. “Look at the tech we have now. Computer chips—information moves fast as lightning. A hundred years ago, no one would have begun to imagine us all with personal computers, smart phones—watches that received texts and through which we can speak to one another. Drones, satellites. It’s our belief a superior alien race has visited Earth—and that their technology is far superior to the little bit we’ve attained today. In ways we can hardly conceive. That being the case, it’s more than likely they built something into the Ark that protects it—and will keep it safe until this superior race of beings returns to us.”
Craig, close to John Smith, thought that he heard the man mutter “Rubbish!” beneath his breath.
Very low, but audible.
But Smith smiled as he looked at Jay Harding. “Totally improbable and implausible. We know a great deal about our own galaxy. Space travel would take lifetimes. If life exists, it is not superior. Bacteria did not come to Earth to build the pyramids!”
“Oh, my friend. You just missed something. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his brilliant creation, Sherlock Holmes. I don’t know the exact quote, but it is something like this, ‘That which is not impossible, no matter how improbable, must be the truth!’ Superior aliens may not come from this galaxy at all. The universe is huge. We are but pathetic little specks in the vastness of the universe. What ego we have to assume that we even begin to resemble intelligent life!”
“I do wonder about some of us,” Annie Green murmured.
Jay and Ben looked at one another and laughed good-humoredly.
“Dear Miss Annie,” Jay said. “Not to worry—we do not offend easily. So, the thing is, there is a lot we agree on. Okay, in your mind, Mr. Smith, Moses had the Ark created according to the specifications given to him by God. In my mind, the Ark was already created—and when Moses fled, he brought the Ark with him. Events after that, we’re pretty much in agreement. Knights Templar rescued the Ark. They brought it to Scotland. Norse trading friends of the good Scots and Templars brought the Ark to the New World. Many believe that it landed on Oak Island. We believe that it landed on Douglas Island.”
Annie smiled. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I spoke too quickly, and too harshly. We should share our research.”
“Yes, of course,” John Smith said.
Craig was pretty sure that Smith would be glad to see the research the Believers had accumulated; he would likely not be so generous with his own.
“The Vikings—during the Golden Age of Vikings—when they were sailing to raid, plunder and murder, were quite remarkable,” Jay Harding said. “Their helmets weren’t horned, as we see in so many movies, but round, created to protect the head. To the best of my knowledge, there’s only one full helmet still in existence. They left the history mainly with storytellers, but also, much was written down.”
“They were an interesting society. A Viking wedding celebration could last a week,” John Smith put in. “They did keep slaves, wrested from other communities most often during their raids.”
“And they were part of the Viking trade as well,” Harding added. “Say, a woman—a good, healthy female slave—might be the equivalent of a suit of chain mail or perhaps two cows or a cow and an ox.”
“Charming,” Elayne muttered.
“Ah, not to worry! A healthy male slave could be worth a horse or three cows,” Danny put in.
“Equal opportunity,” Mike muttered. “But if Norsemen brought something here from the Templars, it would have been years after that ‘Golden Age.’”
“Right,” Harding said. “Thing is, they were brutal, but it was a brutal age. Even in that ‘Great Age,’ many were looking for land. Rich land. Younger sons went off to find a place, and then, if you were going to take a place, you conquered it. Or if you didn’t conquer a place, you might be looking for the riches that would allow you to rise within your own society. What we consider the first Viking raid was Lindisfarne, the Christian monastery there. They came with their bows, spears, axes, swords and knives—sending the monks running. There had been raids before—but nothing like what happened at Lindisfarne. The attack was, of course, completely out of the blue—and a scourge.”
“Why did the Vikings die out?” Elayne asked. “Sounds like they were doing all right.”
“In my mind,” Danny said, clearing his throat, as if aware that John Smith would hardly consider him to be a scholar, “it was Haakon IV of Norway and Alexander III—when the raids began, you see, there were no actual kings of Scotland or Norway. Come around to about 1262 and Alexander II had already died of a fever, trying to sail against the Norse. They battled over the northern islands off Scotland. Anyway, Haakon raised a great navy that Alexander knew he couldn’t beat—so he let the weather do it for them. After a storm broke up what was essentially Haakon’s armada, Alexander went in and there was a slaughter—which still didn’t solve anything. Haakon headed over to Orkney to wait out the winter—and he died. Anyway, the raids in general began to end after that. The Hebrides wound up belonging to Scotland and the Orkney Islands went to the Vikings—well, until way later when they became part of a dowry when Margaret, daughter of Christian I of Norway, married James III of Scotland. It was officially annexed by what was then the Kingdom of Scotland in 1472.”
Everyone was silent for a moment. Craig saw that Kieran had lowered her head; she was smiling, proud of her brother for probably taking both John Smith and Jay Harding by surprise with his general knowledge of history.
“Um...cool,” Elayne said after a minute.
“And, important, really, in any story relating to the Scots and the Norse,” Kieran said pleasantly, looking up. “Jacques de Molay was burned at the stake in March of 1314. His followers would have been running to Scotland to escape Philip’s purge in the years right before—de Molay was imprisoned for years before his execution was carried out—and right after.”
“The Templars were dissolved by Philip in 1307,” Ben Garcia said. “That’s when anyone who could fled with what precious relics they had.”
“Right,” Kieran said. “And at that time, the battle between Haakon and Alexander was long over, and trade relations between Viking and Scot were growing strong. You also had large populations that were mixed. Easy to see that there might have been many friends between the two cultures.”
“Yes! So, you see, there could be all kinds of things on this island,” Annie Green put in.
“Or ten million in goods stolen by murdering bank robbers,” Mike said dryly.
“What we need to do is see the island,” John Smith said.
“Maybe, one day,” Finn said.
“We could help now,” Jay Harding told him.
“Not at this time, I’m afraid,” Craig said. “The property is part of an official investigation.”
“And,” Bracken added, “at the moment, I’m still doing my best to make sure that the caves and tunnels aren’t dangerous. I believe that much of the system is natural. But over time, people dug tunnels to suit their needs. How sound they are, we just don’t know yet.”
“In this day and age,” Kieran put in, “Finn also has the liability to think about.”
“It’s not impossible. Maybe one day,” Finn said cheerfully.
“Better than the caves, the beach is so beautiful. And the pool,” Elayne said. “We all need to look to the future—and the fantastic resort that will be here.”
“We hope. If more people don’t die,” Margie said. She rose, without excusing herself, and left the room.
