Clive Cussler: Pirate

When the wine was served, Remi lifted her glass to Sam’s. “Here’s to hoping Professor Hopkins finds this mysterious key.”

“Agreed.”

They had just finished their meal when Chef Marcellino approached their table, greeting them, his Italian accent very evident. “You have met my beautiful wife,” he said as he nodded to Sima. “I hope you enjoyed your lunch. And perhaps saved room for dessert?”

“The food,” Remi said, “was wonderful. Dessert…?” She looked over at Sam.

“I’m always a sucker for sharing tiramisu with a beautiful woman.”

“Well, then,” she said, turning toward Chef Marcellino, “I believe we’ll be sharing an order.”

“At once,” he replied with a slight bow, his dark eyes sparkling. He returned shortly with the tiramisu, telling them to enjoy it.

Remi took the first bite, deciding it was the perfect balance of espresso-soaked savoiardi, creamy marscarpone, and a dusting of unsweetened cocoa. “This is the next-best thing to being in Italy.”

“It can’t possibly be as good as the tiramisu we had in Rome last month at Domus Magnanimi.” He slipped the spoonful into his mouth, closed his eyes as though tasting a fine wine. After a moment, he said, “Then again, maybe we should have ordered two servings.”

Remi was about to take a second bite when she saw Professor Hopkins enter the restaurant, the wrapped book tucked under his arm. He looked around, saw them, and walked over. “My apologies for interrupting your lunch.”

“Sit, please,” Sam said. “We’re actually done, but couldn’t resist trying the tiramisu.”

“Exquisite here, isn’t it?” He pulled out a chair and sat.

“Very. So…” Sam eyed the package that the professor had set on the table in front of them. “Did you find anything?”

“At first, nothing. The volume is in amazing shape. Of course I examined each page, looking at it under oblique lighting, black lights, various wavelengths. Nothing on any of the pages that would make me think of this key. That’s what you said they were looking for?”

Remi and Sam nodded.

“I have a friend with a metal detector and he stopped by and placed it over the book, my thought being that perhaps if there were some key hidden in the binding, we might detect it that way. Nothing. And then it occurred to me that perhaps we weren’t talking about a metal key at all. It is a book on pirates and their maps. Why not a key to the map?”

Remi said, “Makes perfect sense.”

“So I went back over each page. And, as you asked, photographed each for direct comparison to another copy. Unfortunately, I don’t have a copy on hand. I thought you might compare them yourself later using the digital copy I made for you. You might find something written in this edition that doesn’t appear in the others. Especially the pages that have maps on them. I also examined the ink to see if something had been added later…” He patted the box, taking a deep breath. “But, back to the key search. Once I realized what was right in front of me, I couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to me sooner.” He looked first at Remi, then Sam, saying nothing.

Remi wanted to reach out and shake him. “Exactly what hadn’t occurred to you sooner?”

“The reason why the endpapers were missing from all the other volumes. I know what they were looking for.”

Professor Hopkins opened the manila folder. “This,” he said. “It was hidden behind the endpapers.”

“May I?” Sam asked, reaching for the folder.

“Of course.”

Sam took it in hand, holding it so that he and Remi could view it together. Inside was a piece of yellowed parchment almost as large as the book cover with something illustrated in black ink. A map of an island and, next to it, a circle with symbols, atop a square with letters beneath. The complete alphabet, he realized. “A cipher wheel?” he asked the professor.

“An illustration of one,” Hopkins replied. “It has to be what they were searching for. Had it not been for all those thefts and reported damage to the endpapers, it might have gone unnoticed. Honestly, I was about to call to ask if you wanted me to glue the endpaper that had come loose. That’s when I saw it.”

Remi leaned in for a closer look. “I wonder if Mr. Pickering was aware that this was in there when he gave it to me?”

A very good question, Sam thought. But not one he wanted to go into right now. “We can’t thank you enough,” he told Professor Hopkins.

“Since you’ve paid me twice over what I normally charge, I think you have. You’ve definitely got a fascinating mystery here.”

The screen to Remi’s cell phone lit up. She glanced at it, then turned it facedown on the cloth. “We do appreciate your time.”

The professor slid his chair back. “And I really do need to get to that next appointment.” He stood, shook hands with Sam, and smiled at Remi. “Enjoy the rest of your lunch.”

The moment he left, Remi picked up her phone. “It’s a text from Bree.”

“Saying what?” Sam asked.

“To call her as soon as I can.”

Sam asked for the check, and they finished their dessert while they waited. Once it came, he paid and left a generous tip, then they hurriedly walked to the rental car.

Remi called, placing it on speakerphone. “Bree? Are you okay? We were so worried when we couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“I’m fine. Now. I’m — I’m in North Carolina.”

“North Carolina?”

“To visit my cousin. To tell her about her father.”

“We’re so very sorry.”

“I know. Listen, I was wondering if — did my uncle give you the book when you were there? Pyrates and Privateers ?”

Remi glanced at Sam, hesitating the slightest of instances as she said, “I bought a copy from him. Why?”

“My cousin — um, she’s pretty devastated. Apparently he promised it to her, and — and I was hoping I could give it to her. Something to remember her father by.”

“After what happened to your uncle, Sam and I thought maybe we should turn it over to the police.”

“No! Please…”

“Bree? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m — yes. It’s just — you can imagine how devastating this has all been. And it would mean so much for her to have it. If you turn it in, it’ll only be tied up in probate. She’s too ill to travel, and—” Bree broke down crying. After several seconds, she said, “I’m sorry. This has all been so hard.”

“What can we do to help?” Remi asked.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind mailing the book to her. To remember her father by.”

“Of course we wouldn’t mind. But Sam and I will deliver it in person.”

“No. I couldn’t ask that of you. It’s too much.”

“We insist,” she said, eyeing Sam, who nodded in encouragement. “This book is too valuable to trust to the post office. Just text me the address and we’ll deliver it tomorrow.”

“I will. Thank you…”

They heard a quiet sob as Remi said, “We’ll see you tomorrow. And pass on our condolences to your cousin.”

Sam pulled out of the parking garage and on into traffic. “She sounded pretty upset.”

“Understandably,” Remi said. “First the robbery, then the heart attack. I can’t imagine what Pickering’s daughter must be going through. Not being able to travel. At least Bree’s there for her.”

“About the book…?”

“I thought about that. And I think at the very least we should show it to Pickering’s daughter and let her make that decision. She is the next of kin, after all. At least this way we can explain in person why we feel it best to turn it in to the authorities.”