by Howe, A. E.
“We’re getting close to the docks and the water.”
“Cripes!” Carter clinched the arm to his side as best he could. “I’ve got to take the bag off.”
He pulled it off and Blasko watched in horrified fascination as the tentacles reached out toward the water of their own accord. Forcing himself to look away, Blasko pulled Carter onward toward the dock.
Before stepping out onto the dock, Blasko took another good look up and down, checking out every boat. He didn’t want to run into another stab-happy sailor tonight. Seeing nothing, he guided the twitching Carter onto the dock. They moved as quickly and silently as they could down to the boat that Josephine had indicated.
They climbed on board, which was complicated by Carter’s tentacles trying to get into the water. Blasko pulled Carter down onto the deck behind the gunwale.
“The hatch for the engine must be here somewhere,” Blasko said, looking for a ring or handle to pull on. When he found it, he lifted the hatch. Even his eyes had to adjust to the almost-total blackness under the deck.
“I can see wires and lots of metal things. Looks a bit like my automobile’s engine… but different.”
“That’s helpful,” Carter sighed. “Okay, I’ve been thinking about this. You need to take a piece or two off. Try to find something that isn’t too obvious. That way, when they haven’t been able to get the boat to start, you can present yourself as an expert and fix it by replacing the parts you remove.”
As he spoke, Blasko could hear strange sucking and smacking sounds that he realized were the suckers on Carter’s tentacles, clutching and unclutching the deck. Repressing a shudder, he said doubtfully, “Do you think that will work?”
“Just remember what you take off and how to put it back.”
“But will anyone believe that I am an expert on boat engines?”
“They will when you fix it.”
The plan sounded reasonable the way Carter laid it out, so Blasko started looking for parts he could remove. “I found a wire that I can take off if I have one of those things.”
“What things?”
“A screwdriver, I think.”
“We’re going to have to review a few terms if you’re going to sound convincing this evening,” Carter said, trying to open the toolbox with one hand while wrestling with his tentacles, which were still trying to drag him toward the water.
After forty-five minutes, Blasko had managed to remove a couple of wires and opened a valve whose proper placement he had carefully committed to memory.
“There are probably easier ways to delay them,” Carter said, trying to bag his arm again as they snuck back toward his cottage.
“I didn’t hear you making any suggestions.” Blasko was worn out from the evening’s activities, but the thought of closing himself off in his coffin and letting the day’s events play out was unappealing. He had no choice.
Back at the hotel, he looked in on Josephine to let her know he’d returned.
“What did you do to the boat?” she asked.
“I have no idea, but I think I can repair it. Carter gave me some lessons on how to sound like a mechanic.”
“Franklin? I wouldn’t think him an expert either.”
“Compared to me?” Blasko asked with his eyebrows raised.
“I take your point.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Josephine was alone at breakfast the next morning. She spent a few hours in Blasko’s room with a book, then finally heard movement down the hall around noon. She opened the door to see several of the treasure hunters emerge from Captain Hume’s room, looking like they’d had a hard night’s rest. Eric Donavan half waved at her as he stumbled down the stairs, looking for something to eat. Neith walked to her own room with a frown planted on her face.
“Spending the night all together was abysmal,” she said to Josephine before entering her room and closing the door loudly.
As the day worn on, Josephine heard more and more commotion as the other guests rambled about the hotel, obviously restless to return to the hunt.
At two, the door to Blasko’s room opened and a weary Anton came in, carrying an envelope.
“I have the response. It is from both of the gentlemen. Your Mr. Bobby wanted me to tell you something too. He says that he would have come himself, except that there has been a fire. He had to stay and help, but if you don’t return by the day after tomorrow, he will come down here.”
“You made good time,” Josephine told Anton gratefully, receiving a small smile from the little man. “You’ve earned a pass for all the times you’ve annoyed me.” Instead of causing the smile to disappear, her comment made it grow a bit larger.
“Thank you, miss. Here.”
She took the envelope and tore it open, settling back into her chair to read.
They had discovered that Neith had left Cairo without telling anyone where she was going. At one point, there had been speculation that she’d thrown herself into the Nile. Her colleagues hadn’t been that excited to hear she was alive.
Donavan proved to be as he had presented himself. He was well liked at the university, but they weren’t that concerned that he was gone.
The part about Captain Hume was interesting. He had been accused of going native when he left his ship in the South Pacific. The current commander of his regiment in the Royal Marines had compared his behavior to something out of Conrad’s Heart of Darkness. They had discharged him as a captain rather than court martial him because they didn’t want the scandal on record. There had been mixed opinions in his regiment about whether that was the right decision. As to his actions in the Middle East after his discharge, what Hume had told them was fairly accurate.
Jamila was respected at her university, though she had made enemies because of her ambition.
Bobby and Etheridge hadn’t been able to come up with any information on Elliot Zhao. They had a couple of calls in with the overseas operator to Hong Kong, but they had decided that it was more important to send Anton back than to wait on calls that might never come in.
Josephine was reading the report and wondering how any of this was going to help them solve the murders when she came to the last part concerning Wallace Brock. Here there was some enlightenment… but also more questions.
There had been two Brocks—brothers. Wallace Brock was a professor at the University of Chicago. In early May, he had received a letter and took it to his dean. The letter had arrived at a time when Wallace was already preparing to go on sabbatical, so he just ran it by the dean and, in short order, was on a train headed to Florida.
His brother, Sergeant Manfred Brock of the Chicago Police Department, had come to the university a week later, upset that he couldn’t contact his brother or even confirm that he’d arrived safely on Cedar Island. According to Manfred’s lieutenant, he had requested a leave of absence to go to Florida to look for his brother. That was the last anyone has heard from either one of the Brocks.
“I have to tell you what happened to the baron yesterday,” Josephine told Anton when she was done with the letter. He had been hovering close by while she read. Now she spared none of the details of what had happened, including the appearance of the attackers.
“I will guard him with my life,” Anton said without any sense of exaggeration or irony.
“I’m going down to see what the other guests are doing. If they leave for the island, I might go with them.”
“Is that wise? I think the baron would be very upset if you do that.”
“I suspect you’re right, but I want to keep an eye on them.” Josephine handed him the envelope with the information he’d brought back from Sumter. “If I’m not here when the baron wakes up, give this to him.”
She went back to her room and dressed in an oversized long-sleeved shirt and pants, the toughest and most practical clothes she had with her. From her suitcase she also retrieved a belt and holster that she’d had made a couple of months earlier. Life with Blasko had taught her that
sometimes it paid to be armed. She’d had it designed so that the holster rested just under the waistband inside her pants, and would be hidden by her blouse. She placed the revolver in the holster, then examined the effect in the mirror. If you knew what you were looking for, it was possible to tell that she might be hiding something, but otherwise it was concealed to her satisfaction.
In the entry hall, she found Jamila smoking a cigarette and looking irritated.
“We should have gone down to the docks half an hour ago. These people have no discipline,” she complained
“I’d like to go with you this time.”
“Whenever that will be.” Jamila nodded. “One more. Why not?”
By four o’clock, they were finally walking toward the docks. Josephine looked around at the others. They all wore a look that was a mix of desperation, hope and resignation. She looked down the street toward Carter’s little cabin and wondered how he was doing. The thought of his tentacles caused her stomach to roll.
At the boat, Donavan hopped on board with practiced dexterity. Everyone else clamored aboard behind him. Josephine hoped whatever Blasko had done would keep them there until dark. She looked at her watch. It was still almost four hours until sunset.
Donavan went into the wheelhouse and came out five minutes later, looking flustered. “You all need to move toward the front. I need to look at the engine.”
“Something wrong?” Captain Hume asked.
“Won’t know till I look.”
A few minutes later, he had the hatch open and was tinkering around in the engine compartment.
“Go in the wheelhouse and turn the key when I tell you,” he yelled at the captain.
So it went for the next two hours as Donavan and Hume tried to figure out what was wrong.
“You need to go get the guy you rented this from.” Hume tossed the rag he’d been holding for Donavan down on the deck.
“This is ridiculous.” Jamila was pouting in a chair she’d dragged out of the cabin. The others were lying about the boat in various states of repose and irritation.
Josephine looked at her watch again. There were still two hours until sunset. “The baron had a yacht on the Black Sea,” she made up on the spot. “I think he might be able to fix it. Maybe if we all go up to dinner, when we’re done he can come back down with us and have a look at it.”
“I’m going to go see if that guy, Enoch something, who I rented this tub from can get it fixed,” Donavan said.
“Of course. If he can’t, then the baron can take a look,” Hume said to Josephine.
Josephine just hoped that Enoch wouldn’t be able to figure out what Blasko and Carter had done to disable the engine.
“I agree with Josephine. We should get something to eat.” Jamila stood up. “I’ll leave my bag here.”
“I think that dinner sounds like a good idea,” Zhao said, walking back from the bow of the boat with Neith close behind.
Perfect! Josephine thought. If we go up for dinner at the hotel, we won’t be ready to come back to the boat until the sun is almost down. It won’t matter if Enoch fixes the boat or not. I just hope Dragomir can fix whatever he broke.
Two hours later, everyone except Donavan had eaten and was getting ready to walk back down to the boat.
“Are you going on the dig in that outfit?” Neith asked Blasko as she saw him coming down the stairs wearing his usual Edwardian attire.
“I am not planning on doing any digging.” Blasko smiled. “But I do need to go get another member of our party.”
“Who’s that?” Jamila asked suspiciously.
“A man who can help us,” Blasko said vaguely.
“Don’t take long,” Zhao warned. “Miss Nicolson said that you know something about boats. We might need you to fix a small problem.”
“I’ll meet you there momentarily,” Blasko told him, winking at Josephine as he walked past her and out the door.
Outside, the western sky was still a light blue, providing enough light to see by as the group headed back to the docks. As they got closer, Josephine could see Donavan and one of the locals standing at the stern of the boat, looking down into the engine compartment. Even from a hundred yards away, she could tell that they weren’t happy.
“Have you found the trouble?” Hume asked as they approached.
“Aye, there’s wires missing,” Enoch said. Josephine recognized him as the strange sailor she had encountered the day before.
“Are you saying that someone took them?” Hume pressed.
“Looks like someone doesn’t want us to go out to the island today.” Donavan looked around at everyone with a grim expression on his face.
“Who would do this?” Neith asked.
“I assume it was whoever has the rest of the let—” Donavan stopped talking when he realized that Enoch was standing close beside him. “It doesn’t matter who. We’re stuck until we can get new wiring.”
“I can rig something up tomorrow with the help of some of the boys. But not until then,” Enoch said.
Blasko and Carter chose that moment to arrive. Donavan noticed them first, then everyone else turned to see what he was looking at. Josephine had to admit that the two men made a strange pair. Both were overdressed for an outing on a boat, with Carter hiding his burlap-covered arm under a trench coat. Only because she knew where to look, Josephine could see that the sack was making some very strange undulations.
“Have you had any luck with the boat?” Blasko called out to them. Carter had his head down and looked like he was trying to hide behind Blasko.
Enoch’s face took a darker turn when he saw Blasko. “Reckon I’ll be going now. We’ll get this fixed up tomorrow,” he said to Donavan, stepping quickly over the gunwale and onto the dock. He glared at Blasko and Carter, passing by them both without a word.
“The old guy doesn’t seem to care for you,” Donavan observed.
“Had a drink at the bar with the locals last night. I guess I offended some of them.”
“Who’s that with you?” Hume asked.
“We aren’t splitting this pie any more than we already have,” Donavan said.
“Are you talking about the pie you haven’t managed to find yet? Because this man is… uniquely qualified to help with the search,” Blasko said.
“If he has some useful knowledge, I don’t see why we wouldn’t want him along,” Zhao reasoned.
“You’re supposed to have the information we need from that letter.” Donavan glared at Zhao.
“The baron’s right. We need to get this done as quickly as possible. You saw the look on that old fisherman. I’m sure there are all types of rumors flying around by now. Do you want the locals horning in on this?” Hume said.
“I agree. If we aren’t careful, we’ll be dividing our find up a dozen ways,” Neith said, seconding Hume.
“Including a share to the state,” Josephine said.
“She’s right.” Zhao nodded.
“We’re all agreed then,” Blasko said, pushing Carter into the boat.
“What’s this special knowledge and why the hell does he have a bag over his hand?” Donavan asked, having noticed what Carter was trying to hide.
“It looks like there are serpents in there.” Neith sounded uncomfortable.
Carter refused to look up and used his good arm to keep his left pinned to his side.
“Let’s look at the motor first. I’d rather not talk details until we’re away from the dock,” Blasko said.
“We aren’t going anywhere unless you can make a part for the engine,” Donavan said.
“I may as well take a look,” Blasko responded good-naturedly. He’d hidden the wires up the sleeve of his coat.
“Suit yourself. Here, I’ll take your coat,” Donavan said, reaching out. “We’ve already lit the lantern, but you can’t get it too close to the engine. There’s oil on the bilge water. Don’t know how flammable it is, but best not to find out. Hume, get the flashlight from the wheelhouse.”
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“I’ll keep my coat on, thank you. I’ve got pretty fair night vision, so I’ll just put my head down there and see what I can do.” Blasko was already down on his knees by the hatch to the engine compartment.
With half his body hanging down into the dark hole, Blasko pulled the wires out of his sleeve and tried to remember where they belonged.
“Here’s the light.” Hume handed down the heavy flashlight. Blasko took it, even though the light was more of a hindrance to him than a help.
After a few false starts, he thought he’d gotten the wires into the right places and had remembered to close the open valve. “That should do it,” he said, pulling himself out of the compartment.
“You couldn’t have fixed it without the missing wires,” Donavan said.
“I found them under the water,” Blasko said, glad for the four inches of dirty bilge water under the engine.
“I felt around and didn’t find them.” Donavan wasn’t convinced.
“I’ll see if it will start,” Hume said, moving toward the wheelhouse. Sure enough, the engine kicked over after several tries and settled down to a steady, deep-throated diesel thumping.
“I don’t believe for a minute that you found those wires in the bilge water,” Donavan whispered to Blasko.
Blasko gave Donavan a cold smile. “And I don’t believe that you will ever find the treasure without my help.”
Donavan frowned and went to the wheelhouse.
Hume helped to cast the boat from the dock and, within minutes, they were puttering out into the Gulf as the last inkling of daylight passed from the sky.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When they were about a mile off the coast, Donavan pulled back on the throttle and let the engine idle before switching on all of the boat’s lights.
“Before we get any farther from shore, I want to know why we’re taking this man with us,” he said, leaving the wheelhouse and joining the rest of the group at the stern.
A gentle swell rocked the boat as everyone’s eyes went to Blasko and Carter.
