The Caves of Etretat: Part One of Four

by Matt Chatelain

  I caught the keys in mid-air and tried one in the lock. No good. The other fit perfectly. The lock was seized with age but gave way under the pressure I exerted. The deadbolt released with a clunk. I pulled the door open slowly, not knowing what to expect.

  A ghastly odor was released. Fresh air entered the room, activating dormant lichen on the walls. The increasing light revealed a horrifying sight, literally from Dante's Hell: the room was filled with corpses, piled one upon another. Decomposition stains covered what floor we could see. The sealed room had prevented these bodies from mummifying. They had rotted instead. There were hundreds of dead bodies here.

  "Could these be Weissmuller's men?" questioned O'Flanahan. Seeing our questioning looks, he explained, "Sorry guys but I always think in terms of conspiracy. If this place was mine, I might be led to kill anyone who might have loose lips and reveal my big secret. For proof, look at those," he added, showing two machine guns visible through tears in rotting tarps. "He hid machine guns under those tarps, called the men in, and the shooting began, like fish in a barrel. The carnage over, Weissmuller shot the last two men, the executioners."

  "Who shot Weissmuller, if all his men were dead?" asked Raymonde.

  "Adolf Hitler killed him!" I said.

  It was the only answer which made sense. The single loose end, after the death of Weissmuller's men, would have been Weissmuller himself, a man privy to all of Hitler's deepest secrets. Hitler would have shot Weissmuller in the back, completing his own decades-long plan. A fitting end to Weissmuller, betrayed by a man who had betrayed everyone.

  We closed the door silently, heading back without a word. Returning to the Argos, I reflected on the caves. So many dead. The allure of finding riches here, our original goal, had been completely muted by the reality of what lay hidden here. The legacy my father had left had nothing wonderful about it. It was not about treasure. A burden had been placed on my shoulders, one I did not know if I wanted. Like it or not, the Caves of Etretat were now in my hands.

  I made a silent vow to all those who had prepared the path. I would discover what mysteries lay hidden in the depths of the caves. I would hold true to their lofty ideals and adopt them as mine. With my loyal friends at my side, with Raymonde as my partner and an entire town ready to do my bidding, it was now up to me to begin the real task, the real challenge.

  I remembered, one more time, the coded words from my father:

  'You ought understand responsibility,

  Necessarily after moiling Etretat'

  I would assume that responsibility and I would never let go, not until I solved the mystery of the Caves of Etretat!

  ***

  I entered the private room, stopping at the hospital bed, where Bequilles lay dying. Upon our return from the caves, we were informed Bequilles had been found on his kitchen floor, stricken by a massive coronary. The doctor had told me he could go any time. Bequilles' eyes fluttered open, still clear. A faint smile graced his lips. "Sirenne."

  "Yes, Bequilles, it's me. The doctor told me you didn't have much time left."

  "S'okay. Time for me to go," he whispered.

  "I brought you a parting gift, if that's okay?" I said.

  "A gift? Now?"

  "Yes, a gift. Have you ever seen these?"

  "Your glasses?"

  "That's right. These glasses are special. Here, let me show you."

  I slipped them onto his nose before he could object. Coulter was waiting online, Raymonde next to him. With tears in her eyes, she explained with this was all about, "Hello Bequilles. Paul told me you don't have long. We thought you might enjoy watching a home-made movie. Before we start it though, I want to say thank you for all your help. We could never have done this without you."

  Raymonde surreptitiously wiped a tear from her cheek as she motioned to Coulter. Bequilles was suddenly inside our submarine, when we prepared to enter the caves for the first time. The big secret he had protected all these years was now revealed. He watched silently, his breath wheezing in and out laboriously.

  Halfway through the video, his heart had a serious jump and began failing. The doctor came in but could do no more. Bequilles' held on to every precious second, until, finally, the face of a dead Adolf Hitler was revealed on the video.

  Bequilles broke into a big smile. "It was worth it after all. My life was not wasted. There was a real Secret!"

  "Yes, Bequilles, it was real and you kept it."

  My words were wasted. Bequilles could hear no more.

  ADDENDUM

  A NOTE ABOUT O'FLANAHAN

  Liam O'Flanahan would not allow me to publish this book without including this next section. Despite our many arguments about the subject, O'Flanahan has displayed a single-minded tenaciousness, coming back to this issue repeatedly. No matter whether he is correct or not, in this instance, I have no better theory to offer.

  Paul Sirenne

  A KING'S DISPLEASURE,

  By Liam O'Flanahan

  "All right, he's been standing out there for three hours. That should be enough. We want everybody out except for you, Bude. Don't give Us that look, you know exactly what part you played in this and so do We."

  King Francis the First motioned for his Grand Chamberlain to empty the throne room of all the courtiers and attendants. A muted, polite expression of protest wafted up from the closest Courtiers but Francis was firm. His Chamberlain had been instructed. These were exceedingly private matters and none were to be within hearing distance, except for those concerned.

  Jacques Cartier was ushered in, the Grand Chamberlain closing the massive doors behind him. Far away, at the end of the large room, Cartier could see the King, sitting impassively on the throne. He wiped his cold, sweaty palms on his pants and started the long walk to the throne.

  A few voices had spoken in his ear; people had been asking questions. Last week, two of his men had gone drinking and never returned. Seeing Bude, standing nervously next to the King, did nothing to assuage Cartier's growing concerns. What if the King knew everything?

  He was about to find out. He had run out of red carpet and out of time. He took his place, well below the raised throne, looking up at his stern-faced King, with what he hoped was an innocent face.

  "Jacques Cartier, We have summoned you this day, because you have incurred Our displeasure." The King paused heavily, the silence laced with accusations.

  "My King, what could your lowly servant have done?"

  "Don't you play that fawning game with Us. You know very well what you have done."

  "Perhaps, your Highness would be willing to provide his servant with the barest of indications as to how one might have acted wrongly?"

  "Let Us discuss your trip to the New World. Perhaps that might jar your failing memories."

  Cartier's face fell. The game was up. The King knew. But how much? Cartier had to be brazen. He would not admit anything willingly. "My trip, Your Majesty? It went perfectly. I'm not sure..."

  "So you said in your report. We were quite pleased at the time. However, We were not so pleased when a rumor came to Our ears. Rumors of a part of the trip not reported? To an island? What do you have to say about that? Speak, instead of standing there with your mouth gaping like a fish."

  The anger in the King's voice shot a blast of fear through Cartier's veins. "Certainly, Your Majesty, your servant did go to several islands he did not report. Most were too small to mention."

  "We thought you might have difficulty remembering. That is why We asked Our Royal Investigators to question some of the sailors who accompanied you on this voyage We funded."

  The King knew had to know more than he was saying. He was just leading Cartier on, letting him hang himself. Thinking fast, Cartier decided to admit to something, anything, to steer the story away from the most damning facts. "Your Servant does remember a particular island, now that your Highness mentions it. We rested there for a short while."

  "About two full months, from what We have heard. A larg
e gap in your report, wouldn't you say? And what led you there?"

  "Uhm, uh, we, uhm, we were led there by a ship."

  "What type of ship? From what country, tell Us that?"

  "We, uhm, we followed an English ship, your Majesty, but, but it was a Pirate ship. They had lost all morals."

  "SILENCE."

  Cartier stopped blubbering. He had lost control for a moment. Luckily, the King's outburst had given Cartier time to calm down. He kept his eyes low, not trusting himself to look up.

  "Now go on and tell Us what this English ship was doing to make you follow it and exactly why you felt it was not necessary to include it in your supposedly comprehensive report."

  Feeling like his entire head was in a vise he was being forced to tighten himself, Cartier explained his actions, his shifty eyes locked on the ground, trying to unload the blame wherever possible, "Your servant's intentions were always honorable, Your Majesty. The English ship was sighted in the distance, behaving, uhm, oddly. Further out, barely visible on the horizon, our man in the turret could see smoke, which could only mean a sinking, destroyed ship, implying Piracy, your Majesty! We followed the ship from a distance, to find out what they were doing. They landed at an island, where they moored in a small bay. They had obviously been there before, your Highness. We watched as they unloaded several big caskets and brought them to a tree, after complicated measurements from stones on the island. Once at the tree, they dug down a few feet, removing thick oak planks and exposing a hidden shaft leading deep into the ground. They lowered their caskets down the shaft, using a block and tackle. After they were done, they covered the shaft again, hid all evidence of their presence and left."

  "It seems as if your memory has recovered from its sudden bout of amnesia. We wonder how much of what you are telling Us now is really true?

  This line of inquiry had to be stopped, before all was revealed. "Your Highness, please permit your servant to finish explaining. Your Majesty will see we acted properly all along."

  "Humphfff, this should be interesting to hear. Very well, you have Our permission to finish."

  "We moored our ship and disembarked. Our scouts found where the block and tackle had been hidden. Using it, my men exposed the shaft and went to the bottom, over thirty meters below the island's surface. Once there, the men found many caskets, which were brought back to the surface, the excitement of the crew turning rapidly into greed. When they opened the caskets, we, uhm, they found only, uhm, cloth, beads, mirrors and, and tin knives. This angered the men, who had been hoping for something more valuable. I had little choice but to allow them to vent their anger, if only to prevent a mutiny, your Majesty."

  "Enough of this prattle. What did you do then, pray tell?"

  "My men believed these English pirates would be, uhm, dangerous on the high seas, where perhaps, we ourselves might come under attack by the immoral heathens, so they decided to lay a trap for them."

  "Your men designed a trap? What type of trap?"

  "They dug a few small shafts, to allow some seawater to flood the lower chamber where the barrels were found. If the, uhm, the English ever returned, they would learn their lesson."

  "Why did you not feel it worth mentioning all this in your report?"

  "Your Majesty, I did not feel good allowing my men to lay such a trap, warranted though it may have been. My actions were not above some small amount of reproach. As well, no real harm had been done. If the English never conducted an act of piracy on the open seas again, then, they would suffer no harm. Justice would only come to the wicked."

  "In other words, you are almost blameless. Apart from a minor straying, you acted properly all along."

  "This is what I have been saying, your Majesty. Your servant has always tried to do the best thing for France." There, that didn't go so badly, Cartier thought. It almost sounded believable.

  "Well, your words have satisfied Us. There is only one other matter, Cartier and then, you may go."

  Cartier's heart soared with elation. He had done it. One more question and he was free of this. He felt brave enough to look up at his King, keeping his eyes as straight and clear as was possible. "Your servant lives but to answer."

  "Perfect. Then you will have no problem in telling Us about the gold!"

  Cartier's entire body froze. "The g-gold, Your Highness? What g-gold?"

  "Stop that stuttering. Yes the gold. Gold like this."

  Francis the First threw several coins at Cartier's feet. Cartier recognized them instantly. He had told his men not to spend their portions until he gave permission. Obviously, not all had listened. Cartier kept his eyes on the ground, knowing the King was spearing him with his gaze, demanding an answer. How would he get out of this?

  "Your servant now remembers a few of the caskets, caskets we had not opened until much later, did, in fact, have a few pieces of gold in them. I did not think it worthy of mention."

  "We noticed that fact. It seems your first trip to the New World has been a disappointment all around. We sent you there to find diamonds, gold and other riches. All you brought back to Us was two Indians, kidnapped Indians no less, and some few bales of moldy fur. Imagine Our surprise, when We learn Our trusted Captain omitted to mention he had stolen caskets filled with gold."

  "Hardly filled, your Majesty."

  "BE QUIET AND STOP YOUR LIES. WE WILL HAVE YOUR TONGUE CUT OUT IF WE HEAR ONE MORE LIE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

  Cartier fell to the floor, prostrating himself in supplication, keeping his tongue deep within his tightly shut mouth.

  "So you followed an English ship to an island, lay in wait while they hid their gold, then stole it from them and lay a trap to drown them if they ever returned. Did We state what happened correctly?"

  "Yes, your Majesty, perfectly correctly."

  "Excellent. Now tell Us what have you been doing since you returned?"

  "Hardly anything, Your Majesty. I have been exhausted from the trip to the New World and have spent my time resting."

  "Did you perhaps go for a vacation or two during that resting time?"

  "Yes Sire. The beauty of France always bring such joy to your servant's eyes."

  "Yes, well, did you feel any of that joy while visiting Our fort?"

  "Your fort, Your Highness?"

  "Yes, Our fort. You know very well which fort I speak of: the Fort of Frefosse. The one We have been repairing."

  "I did not know it was yours, Your Majesty. It is a lovely fort. I do remember it slightly. I may have passed by it, once or twice."

  The King made a face, upon hearing this last evasion. Getting tired of Cartier's constant slithering shiftiness, Francis took a different tact. "Imagine Our surprise when Our Royal Investigators informed me of a link between you and the College de France's administrator, Guillaume Bude. Perhaps you remember meeting him in passing as well? When We asked him to explain this connection, can you imagine what he might have told Us?"

  The reason for Bude's presence was finally being revealed. The weak-willed fool had probably admitted everything he knew, eager to maintain his present post. Still Cartier refused to give up. "Your Majesty is clearly all knowing. How could a lowly servant such as I pretend to know what Your highness knows."

  He was good, Francis had to admit but his admiration was easily dampened by the anger he felt at having been duped. "We learned you have been made aware of what lies beyond Frefosse's dungeon, thanks to Bude's loose lips. We have also learned you entered in the fort, having been seen at least twice, carrying heavy sacks and coming back out without them. Also, our neighbor, England, is extremely upset at the disappearance of several of their vessels under suspicious circumstances. We believe YOU HAVE HIDDEN THE GOLD YOU STOLE IN THE CAVES BENEATH THE DUNGEON."

  "Your Majesty, I must admit I did hide some gold in those caves, to keep it safe from my thieving men, but it is hardly anything worth making such a fuss about. I never thought it would cause such trouble. However, Sire, I have carefully written the way into t
he caves and put it in a safe place."

  "We are amazed at how you constantly change the events to suit you. Do you dare imply a threat on Our Royal Person?

  "No, never Your Majesty. Your servant reveres your Royal Person. It is simply a precaution, in case anyone should do me harm. These are uncertain times, Your Highness."

  Cartier's veiled words made the King pause. Knowledge of the caves had to be kept quiet at all cost. Too many skeletons buried in there. Francis understood the situation had changed. Until he was assured the caves were safe, he could do Cartier no real harm. Frustrated but used to these cat-and-mouse games, he changed approach immediately. "We want that gold returned in Our hands."

  "Your Majesty, your servant lives but to obey. I would be happy to return to the caves and..."

  "Oh no. You will never set foot in those caves again. We do not trust you. Unfortunately, We still have need of you, as you are Our most knowledgeable man, when it comes to the New World. You can draw a map to your hidden gold. Then you will make immediate preparations to leave France. Until then, you will be accompanied by heavy guard, no matter where you should go. We are banishing you to the New World, for the time being. We shall require you to return there and remove this trap of yours. You are to avoid any contact with the English from now on, and the Spanish for that matter. You will return the two kidnapped Indian sons to their father; you will look for, and return with, real gold and real diamonds for the glory of France, AND YOU WILL NEVER SPEAK OF THIS TO ANYONE EVER AGAIN. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

  "Yes Your Majesty. Thank you for your overwhelming mercy, your Majesty. I will be forever in your debt and will carry out your every bidding from this moment forward. As long as I remain under your protection, the caves will remain our secret! "

  "Shut up you worm. We have heard enough of your sniveling. Remove yourself at once from Our Royal Presence."