Blackbeard's Lost Treasure

by Caleb Wygal

  “OK, so where does this Azerola come in,” Lucas said, gesturing with the ancient tome in his hand.

  “Azerola,” Ezra said, “was the captain of the Atocha, one of the ships carrying a vast amount of the salvage from the wreckage on its way back to Spain.”

  24

  A light tried to flicker on in Lucas’ head.

  “Could this have been where Blackbeard got his treasure?”

  Ezra shrugged. “I don’t know.” He saw Lucas’s shoulders sag. “Now, that’s not to mean it couldn’t be. The attack on the Atocha occurred in February of 1717.”

  “Hmm. The earliest recorded event where someone described Teach as having a long, black beard wasn’t until later that year. That meant that in February of that year, he wasn’t well known yet. Azerola may not have known whom he was dealing with until afterward. What happened? To Azerola, that is?”

  “The man did as he was told,” Ezra said. “He said he’d give the pirate everything they had aboard. Most of his crew jumped ship and went with whoever this pirate was. The Atocha separated from the war ship that was supposed to have been protecting it, the San Jeronimo. He wrote that when it came over the horizon, the pirate took what he could and high-tailed it out of there.”

  “Ah,” Lucas said. “I know Blackbeard liked to hang around the various inlets and atolls near Savannah and pick off passing ships. He could have pursued the Atocha to near here, plundered it, and high-tailed it north.”

  “That’s essentially what Azerola described as happening. Only five crewmembers chose to stay with him and the Atocha. The rest took off with the pirate. He wrote that the Jeronimo came within shouting distance of the Atocha to make sure everyone was fine before taking up the chase on the fleeing pirate ship.”

  “Did they come back?”

  “Azerola wrote that the Jeronimo came back within half a day. The pirate sloop was too fast for them. They returned to get the story of what happened. The Atocha was basically dead in the water, so they took the remaining crew what treasure was left and sailed back to Spain.”

  “Did he say the name of the pirate ship? Did he notice?”

  “He did, I think. It should be right around that passage you just read.”

  Lucas looked down and scanned the pages in the book. He flipped a few pages and saw it in a paragraph near the end of that chapter:

  “I caught the pirate ship name as it turned about and cast away from us: Revenge.”

  Lucas gasped. That was the name of Blackbeard’s first ship.

  • • •

  After taking a moment to process this, he asked, “What happened to Azerola?”

  “He said he lived in fear for the rest of his life. The rest of his journey was the subject of that book. He knew his days were numbered. Letting that amount of treasure get stolen was an unforgivable offense. So, when the Jeronimo stopped in Philadelphia to take on supplies before crossing the Atlantic, Azerola snuck off and hitched a ride with another vessel to Britain.”

  “Man, that’s rough.”

  “It was a tougher time back then. You did what it took to survive. No matter what. He hated the New World and wanted to go back to Europe. He knew a noose was waiting for him the instant he set foot on the shores of Spain. He eventually settled into the English countryside and raised sheep. At some point near the end of his life, he published that memoir.”

  “Did he remarry?”

  Ezra shook his head. “Not at the time he wrote that. He was almost one hundred years old. I assume at that point, he probably died alone.”

  “Incredible,” was all Lucas could say to that. “Any idea where the pirates may have gone?”

  Ezra scratched his chin. “As far as I can recall, there wasn’t a description of the Jeronimo’s chase of the pirate ship except to say it disappeared.”

  Going back to Blackbeard’s use of various land features to hide, Lucas asked, “So, do you think they could have waited until they were out of sight of the pirate ship and ducked into the mouth of a river or something and let the Jeronimo go past?”

  “It’s possible yes.”

  “Do you think this could have been Blackbeard? The pirate ship has the right name, although there could have been others in the ocean with the same name at the time.”

  The old man rested his index finger on his lips and expelled a quick breath. “It certainly could have been. Many pirates during those days were known by reputation and could be identified on sight. By all accounts, Azerola was an intelligent man. I wager that he would have identified Blackbeard at the beginning of his account if he knew who the pirate was who boarded his ship.”

  “Makes sense,” Lucas said. The untold riches taken from the holds of the Atocha could have been the war chest Blackbeard drunkenly mentioned to Mary Ormond.

  Lucas looked out the windows at the tops of palm trees shifting in the light ocean breeze. It wasn’t definite, he thought, although there was an excellent chance the pirate described by Azerola was in fact Blackbeard. The ship had the right name. Twitter and the internet didn’t exist back then for news to spread rapidly. Many events throughout history are lost in the mists of time because there wasn’t someone around to document them. Unless someone found a diary from the man himself, the world will never know everything Blackbeard did during his reign of terror in this part of the globe.

  This could be one of those lost chapters.

  He didn’t know what else he could get from Ezra. He knew something he could look at that might bring them closer to finding the spot depicted on the map. Lucas knew the treasure wasn’t likely to be found here on Hilton Head. He thanked the man for his help and left the empty library.

  • • •

  Lucas walked out into the thick, humid air under a watery sun. Cars zoomed back and forth on the busy highway in front of the library. He scanned the parking lot. There were two cars parked. His and an aggressive-looking black Dodge Charger that was backed in at the edge of the lot to his left, on the other side from his Jeep. The car was a photo negative of a typical police car. Employee parking was probably in the back, he thought. There was no one in the library just now besides the employees.

  He had been in danger before. Something about this scene told him to be careful. A sixth sense, perhaps. Right now, he had a tingling feeling at the base of his skull. That car was definitely out of place.

  The dark shapes of at least two people sat behind dark, tinted windows. They seemed to be staring straight ahead.

  At him.

  Lucas looked away. He stepped to his Jeep and climbed in, broke into an immediate sweat and turned the AC up as high as he could.

  He faced a dilemma. He was almost certain the treasure wasn’t here. He’d driven six hours only to find out in a twenty-minute conversation with Ezra that he probably wasn’t in the right place at all. He didn’t know what his next move would be, although had the feeling he needed to leave this parking lot in a hurry.

  The other part of the problem was . . . he didn’t know anything about his surroundings. From what Lucas saw in the surrounding area on his GPS, there were many roads and streets jutting from the main highway beside the library. If he timed it perfect, he’d be able to turn left coming out of the lot and then head back in the direction in which he came. A right turn, however, would send him deeper into Hilton Head. Judging from the steady flow of traffic on the highway that might be his only choice. He just had to hope he could ditch these guys, if they in fact followed him, and then find another way off the island.

  Really, the guys in this car could just be chilling out in the shade underneath the palm trees. He thought there had to be much, much better spots nearby to get cool.

  The treasure could be less than the distance an eighteenth century schooner could travel in a day from him. How far that was, he had no clue. It’s taking Riddick twelve hours to sail from Bath to Hilton Head in a modern yacht with big diesel engines.

  Ignacio Azerola had said that the Jeronimo was only gone for a few hour
s chasing the Revenge before returning. Did the pirate ship keep heading north, trying to get as far away as possible? Or, would they hide in the many bays, inlets and shoals, hoping the Spanish warship wouldn’t find them? In that scenario, Lucas could see a pirate stashing the treasure while they hid. It could be that when Blackbeard drew the map he wasn’t familiar enough with the area to know if the place had a name. Upon an eventual return, he could have known the general area where to find it, and just needed the map to pinpoint it.

  Lucas sat up straight. Put both hands on the wheel. His eyes narrowed. That last thought made the pieces start to fit together. He knew where he needed to go first.

  Then, perhaps from there to the treasure.

  25

  Right then, his phone rung. He looked at the Caller ID and answered, “Hey Greg. Find anything?”

  “Yeah, I made a few calls, ended up talking to the guy who investigated it. He said he’s about a week from retirement and that was one of his first cases, so he remembers it vividly. It was dead end case really.”

  “How so?”

  “The killer left no evidence behind besides the bullet recovered from the back of Cole’s skull. It was the type that when it hit its target, it shattered into a million pieces. It didn’t exit out the back of Cole’s skull, just turned his brain to jelly.”

  Lucas winced. “Could they find a motive?”

  “That’s the thing. From all reports, Cole was one of the nicest guys you’d ever meet. He was an inquisitive sort, always asking everybody questions. His friends said he did that because all he wanted to do in life was learn—whether that be through archaeology and science or wanting to know what you had for lunch the previous day. Everybody liked him. Kept his nose clean.”

  “Huh. So, no suspects?”

  Lucas could hear Greg leafing through some papers. “Well, after they dug through his correspondence and phone records—remember, this was before email—they could only find one person he’d had contact with during the previous couple of days before his death. An old classmate from N.C. State. They went out and talked to him. The guy said he didn’t know anything. He didn’t have a rock solid alibi, but he lived a couple hours away from Raleigh at the time. They questioned him but couldn’t connect the dots.”

  “Yeah? What’s his name?”

  Lucas heard the shuffle of more papers. “Here it is . . . a Hugo Riddick.”

  • • •

  Lucas’s heart stopped. Darwin.

  When Lucas didn’t respond, Greg said, “Lucas? Everything all right?”

  “Uh, yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. Listen, thanks. I’ll call you back. I appreciate you digging into this for me.”

  “Yeah, no problem Lucas. Let me know if I can do anything else for you,” he said and ended the call.

  After having time to think about what happened the previous day during his drive down here about the men stealing their boat, it seemed like an incredible coincidence that those guys seemed to be just hanging out, two guys fishing, and one guy watching birds through a pair of binoculars.

  Like Darwin, Lucas didn’t believe in coincidences. The different variables of how certain people came to be in certain places at the same exact time made every event an infinitely incalculable scenario. Such as Azerola saying a pirate ship named Revenge attacked them. It almost had to be Blackbeard.

  Now Lucas knew the theft of their boat was a conspiracy. The pieces fell into place. Riddick was the only person in the world who knew his and Darwin’s destination at that time. Riddick was a wealthy and powerful man. If he’d possibly killed a man before, who knew what other dirty deeds for which he was responsible? Those guys on that speedboat were his cronies, he thought. Real life cronies. They’d been nearby and Riddick called them.

  Of course, Lucas thought, Riddick told them to take their boat if they got the chance. He was correct in thinking he would be the obvious choice for him and Darwin to contact if they ended up stranded somewhere. That type of cunning echoed something Blackbeard may have done had he been alive today.

  Now, he had to figure out a way to get Darwin away from Riddick without him getting suspicious.

  He looked to his right across the lot at the dark car sitting in the shade. His sense that something was wrong with this scene started pinging. He’d bet money that these were Riddick’s guys. Lucas knew they would follow him when he left the parking lot.

  What if he could get them to leave the lot before him?

  He looked to his left at the diner’s parking lot. One of the police cruisers was still there.

  He thought of another alternative to driving away: the frontal approach.

  He turned off the ignition and walked back over the pancake place. He went in. The pretty waitress with red hair stood at the register by the door, alone. Her nametag read “Lynn.” He didn’t see a ring on her finger.

  That alluring smile was in place. She seemed delighted to see him again. He gave her his best smile. He ordered three large sweet teas and had them loaded onto a drink caddy.

  He looked at the back corner of the diner and saw two cops, the woman, and another man, still sitting at a table across from each other engaged in what looked like an intimate conversation.

  “Here you go,” she said, placing the drinks gently in Lucas’s hands. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  He continued smiling. “Actually, you can. Two things as a matter of fact.”

  • • •

  A few minutes later, he exited and walked back to the library parking lot carrying the drink tray, past his Jeep and right up to the Charger.

  He could see the shapes sit straight behind the tinted windows and become alert as he approached. He walked up to the driver’s side window and knocked on it with the knuckles of his left hand. The glass was hot enough to scorch his skin.

  The person inside hit the button to roll the down the window. Inside, two large men with thick beards, silver reflective sunglasses, and wearing bandanas sat in the two front seats. Another smaller guy was in the backseat. He had a goatee and thick, black-framed glasses.

  The same three men who stole Lucas’s boat the previous day.

  That’s why he ordered three teas.

  When the window fully withdrew into the door casing, Lucas stuck the drink caddy through the window and before they could say anything, he said, “Hey, I saw you guys sitting over here. Thought you’d be hot. Thought you could use some refreshment.”

  The mongoloid sitting by the window took the tray without speaking. The man who seemed to be the brains of the outfit sitting in the back did. “Thanks.”

  Lucas looked from him to the other two Neanderthals sitting in front. He squinted. “Have I seen you guys somewhere before? Recently?”

  “Don’t think so,” the guy in the backseat said.

  “Really? Hmm.” Lucas stood up straight above the roof of the car. He could feel three sets of eyes studying him from inside, wondering what he was up to. He looked over and saw two people exit the diner. He smiled, leaned down. “I know. You’re the guys who shot at me and stole my boat.”

  The driver’s hand lashed out of the window and tried to grab Lucas by the collar. He jumped back and the guy’s hand grabbed empty air. The other two men flung open their doors and jumped out of the car. The shorter guy with glasses was the closest. He tried to get face-to-face with Lucas, although the top of his head only came up to Lucas’s shoulders.

  “Hey!” a woman’s voice yelled from across the lot. “Leave him alone!”

  In unison, everyone turned to look at the person who yelled. It was the policewoman running towards them, her partner a few paces behind.

  The caveman who was halfway around the car from the passenger side quickly turned and ran back into the car. The short guy in front of Lucas gave him an intimidating stare, seemed to make a decision, and rejoined his associates in the car. The driver put it in gear, peeled out around Lucas, and jumped the curb exiting the lot, almost striking a passing vehicle.


  “Are you okay?” the male officer asked as they came up to Lucas.

  He could still see the car at the edge of the horizon speeding away. It would disappear from view in a matter of seconds.

  He turned to the officers. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

  • • •

  Lucas had wanted to keep the entire thing quiet. He knew how he had wanted that scene to play out. He knew walking up to the car the way he did placed himself in danger. He needed to do that for two reasons. The first was to confirm his suspicion of who the car’s occupants were. The second was that he needed them to disappear. If Riddick was having them watch him, then he didn’t want them tracking his movements.

  One of the two things he had asked the waitress was to tell the officers she suspected Lucas was acting weird and carrying drugs about two minutes after he left and where they could find him. He calculated that would give him just enough time to cross the lot and confront the roughnecks. He hoped the officers would come running out of the diner looking for him. Thankfully, they did. He didn’t know what he would have done had they not done that.

  He figured that if the guys in the car were in fact the same ones from the previous day, they probably wouldn’t want to talk to the cops.

  When they asked him about drugs, he told them what he had arranged with the waitress. That he needed an excuse to get them out there quickly. They didn’t like that. When Lucas told them he wouldn’t tell anyone they were having an affair if they’d forget this entire thing happened. They told him to have a good day and to stay out of trouble.

  When he went and got the teas, he saw the two of them holding hands across the table. There was one squad car parked outside. They both wore wedding rings. He wasn’t for sure, although he couldn’t imagine a police force to allow a husband and wife cop to work together.

  Back in his Jeep, he sent a text to Darwin: Where are you?