David Leadbeater - Caribbean Gold

Alicia stared hard, biting her bottom lip. It was a tangled bunch of trinkets, as she’d expected and just like all the ones that came before. It was a guilty hoard, a local offering. It was disappointment to the treasure hunters that came next.

“No gold.” Jensen’s legs wobbled. “There is no gold?”

The pirate leader sat down despondently in the hole. Only his head could be seen. His men drooped. Alicia saw Caitlyn walk across the clearing, heading for Crouch’s side. Nobody else moved and the only sound was the slither of gold chains through Crouch’s shaking fingers.

“Is there nothing else?” the researcher asked. “It strikes me as odd that this final clue, not recorded on Morgan’s maps, lead us to another strongbox. He wanted only the committed and the worthy to find this.”

Crouch let the jewelry fall back inside the box and rooted around in the depths. “We failed.” He was muttering obliviously. “Failed again.”

Caitlyn fell beside him and put a hand over his. “Stop. Let me look.”

She bent over the box. Alicia continued her surveillance of the hilltop, wishing now they’d dispatched more men. The numbers up here were still a little daunting.

Caitlyn pulled a sheet of parchment from the strongbox. “What’s this?” She laid it on the grass and unfolded it.

Crouch peered over her shoulder. “A letter. Is it written by Morgan?”

Caitlyn glanced around at all the watchers, saw no way of imparting the information that wouldn’t result in bloodshed, so lowered her head and began to read aloud.

“I, Henry Morgan, here leave behind the last of the treasures that blacken my conscience. There is no more, and nothing left for me. I set sail now on my final voyage and with everything that I own, to the place of my birth and to England, there to meet a date with the gallows. I have regrets, but regrets always outlive the men that harbor them.”

“Just a final note?” Russo said. “Now there’s a letdown.”

“A goodbye,” Alicia said. “Seems odd.”

“Remember that Morgan was recalled by the English after sacking Panama,” Caitlyn reminded them. “He broke the peace treaty between England and Spain and was recalled to face a trial. His pirating days came to an end right then.”

“Privateer.” Jensen took a step forward so that he was now in the open. “The English made the treaty with Spain without Morgan’s knowledge. So, in effect, he was a privateer until then, and only became a pirate when he attacked Panama — even though he didn’t know it at the time.”

“It hardly matters,” Crouch rooted again in the box as if expecting another map to pop out of a secret compartment. Caitlyn again gently laid her hand atop him.

“There is nothing more, Michael.”

“A name is but a title,” Alicia said then. “It doesn’t change the person beneath. A politician can be a crook. A finance manager a thief. A hedge fund manager a con man. Huh.” She grimaced. “And Wall Street bankers can be all of those things, I guess.”

Caitlyn rose and pulled Crouch up with her, leaving the box. She reread the letter and googled Morgan’s signature to make sure it matched. The hilltop still bristled with an unrelenting apprehension. Alicia started to wonder how their own team and then two highly strung, murderous crews might hope to withdraw peaceably from the situation.

Maybe they could back away and let the other two have at it.

She glanced at Russo who appeared to be thinking along similar lines. He nodded toward the edge. Healey nodded too. Then she saw Jensen looking at them.

We have to take him with us.

Jail time was maybe too good for him, but she couldn’t just kill a man, even one such as he. It felt good now to know that once she’d had no such compunctions. Every day, she moved further ahead.

Caitlyn came over with a dejected Crouch carrying the strongbox. Nothing else moved. Caitlyn looked at both Alicia and Russo.

“So whilst searching for Morgan’s sig I came across the tales that followed his recall to England and followed his journey. Not one of them mentions him returning to his homeland.”

Alicia frowned. “You’re speaking riddles. England is his homeland. That’s why he returned at her request to face trial.”

“No.” Caitlyn smiled. “England was not Morgan’s homeland. He was born in Wales where his family had a large farm. Now, none of the accounts mention that he returned to Wales. Take that in context with what we just read and you have…?”

“Can barely remember,” Russo said. “Busy here.”

“All right. The relevant part goes ‘I set sail now on my final voyage and with everything that I own, to the place of my birth and to England, there to meet a date with the gallows.’ ”

Out of context and with the new information, Alicia understood without any further prompting. She stared at Crouch and the abrupt hope in his eyes. “You believe that Morgan finally finished his guilt-trip here and then set sail supposedly for England with his entire treasure hoard?”

“The sentence alludes to it,” Caitlyn said. “And Morgan would do it. From everything we know of him, you know he would. He told them he sailed straight for England, but stopped off in Wales and returned home. Either by force, or bribery or sheer charisma, Morgan is one of history’s most charismatic men, able to lead so many in such harsh circumstances, for so long, and with such success. The facts are all here.”

Alicia had no illusions that Jensen was listening to their reasoning, but now wasn’t the time to deal with the crook. “And the family farm? Don’t tell me it’s still there today?”

“I still think it’s a stretch,” Russo grumbled. “And Wales is a long way and can freeze the balls of a brass monkey.”

Alicia grunted. “Is that a pirate expression?”

“Yeah, but who gives a fuck?”

“Of course I haven’t mentioned the real reason we should believe the treasure went all the way to Wales,” Caitlyn said sweetly, then paused.

Even Alicia leaned forward, along with every pirate and self-proclaimed leader.

“Simple — Henry Morgan thought he was going to die. He believed he would be put to death for his crimes against the Crown in London.”

“And clearly he still hoarded his treasure, right up until then.” Crouch suddenly had a thrill in his voice. “Right until this letter was written. So, not wanting the Crown to seize and squander his treasure, he took it home, and buried it there.”

Caitlyn bowed. “You read my mind.”

And then the hilltop finally erupted in violence.

Jensen had heard enough and dived for a nearby boulder, screaming at his two remaining lieutenants to open fire. The pirate leader rose up out of the hole, shedding earth and mud, a fearsome sight with an Uzi suddenly grasped in each hand. Alicia saw it and knew Crouch had missed it; one more mistake. Before anyone could react, bullets were lacing the air.

Caitlyn fell to the ground under fire, screaming.

Healey dived in front of her, a tad late but staying put.

Alicia dropped and drew her Walther. Incredibly though, the pirate leader’s head exploded as Labadee and Levy fired at him. The body slumped just as the remaining pirates found their wits and their guns.

Alicia flicked a glance at Caitlyn. “You okay?”

“I’m good. Not hit.”

Healey rolled off her. Russo fired at the pirates that were charging as if playing a game. All fell, tumbling and bloodied to the grass. One spun under fire and smashed head-first into the resolute tree, leaving a smear of blood on the bark. Jensen scrambled for the edge of the hilltop as Labadee and Levy turned their weapons on the Gold Team.

Too late. Alicia and Russo were already within striking distance. Alicia took the big Jamaican, wrestling with his gun. The man was strong and tussled hard, muscles bulging. Alicia used his own force against him, turning the limbs so that they would break. Labadee barely managed to stop in time, but then became redundant, doing nothing. Alicia pushed him away for space, then delivered a double blow to the face and to the chest. She kicked his knee so that he fell hard on his good one. She jumped in with a right knee that connected solidly with his nose.