by Otto Schafer
Jerry looked at Bre, then at her father. “Smart, this one, Charles, very smart. Well, I don’t know the biblical accounts verbatim, but I know there is only one way to find out. Pop the top, flip the lid, and Bob’s your uncle, we’ll know if this is tosh or the bee’s knees,” Jerry said, motioning wildly with his hands.
Her father stared at him. “I’ve no idea what you just said, Jerry.”
Breanne laughed.
“Alright, everyone, let’s open it!” her father said excitedly. He motioned for Breanne to join him, and slowly they removed the staves.
Just as they prepared to lift the lid, Breanne paused. “Daddy, there is supposed to be a curse that goes along with lifting the lid off the Ark, right?”
“Actually, it’s when you touch it. If you aren’t a priest, you supposedly die,” he said.
Paul and Edward looked at each other and then to their father.
“What the hell, Pops? You had us lift that thing off the slab!” Paul said.
“What if it had killed us?” Edward asked.
“I made sure I touched it first,” Charles responded with an easy smile. “Now can we get on with it?”
“You touched it knowing what could have happened?” Breanne asked.
“Bre, you are a scientist. You are rational. Surely I don’t need to convince you how ridiculous the Old Testament accounts are? Now please, can we do this?”
Bre and her father gave each other a final nod and lifted the lid off the chest.
No one spoke as they stood transfixed by the contents of the chest. Golden coins, rubies, jewels, and other precious items were instantly visible. A bejeweled crown, a gold-hilted dagger, and an unthinkably large emerald necklace could all be seen intermixed with the vast coin hoard.
Edward was the first to find his voice. “Wow, unbelievable. That’s the real deal, Pops. We’ve found a legit treasure!”
The statement pulled everyone from their stunned paralysis, and instantly the site became abuzz once again. Breanne and her father gently placed the lid onto the table.
“We need to start cataloging this, Dad. There’s so much, my God. So much!” Breanne threw her arms around her father in a huge hug. She pulled out her field journal and began jotting notes.
“I’ll start taking photos, sis,” Paul said, smiling and slapping his father on the shoulder.
Breanne lifted the camera strap from around her neck and passed it to her brother. “Unreal, right!”
“Crazy!” he responded, donning the camera.
“What can I do to help?” Edward asked.
“Grab some packing crates from the storage container, Ed. We’ll need to carefully pack everything once we’re finished,” his father said.
“On it.” Edward darted off.
Breanne laid out a tarp and then, on top of it, a white cloth. Donning a pair of white gloves, she began placing the objects one by one onto the cloth as Paul photographed each piece. “Look at this gold bullion! And all these coins! Do you know what these are?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “These are silver gros tournois. These were minted during the reign of King Philip IV. There’s so much!” she said, pulling several pieces from the chest before freeing a more substantial golden cuff bracelet embedded with large, blood-red rubies. “Are you seeing this, Daddy?”
Paul snapped photo after photo as Breanne took measurements and logged them into her journal.
Jerry stood next to her father, both of them lost in thought as Breanne continued to empty the chest of invaluable riches. She worked with a careful urgency, ever eager for what came next as the entire wealth of the Templars spilled forth, piece by piece, in organized rows across the white cloth.
Finally tearing her eyes away, she found her father, hoping to share a knowing smile at the ridiculousness of it, but his expression said something else. “What’s wrong, Dad?” He looked unsure – or was it disappointment?
“I… I don’t know.” He smiled. “This is amazing, isn’t it?”
He asked as if he didn’t know that it was more than amazing. It was unbelievable. She waited a moment, studying him, then said, “Of course it is. It is a career find in and of itself. Dad, this rewrites history.”
He sighed. “You’re right, of course, but there is no golden pot of manna, no stone tablets, no Aaron’s rod.” He paused and shook his head. “No Holy Grail.”
“We haven’t even pulled everything out yet – maybe it’s buried beneath the treasure.”
“No. You won’t find it because it simply isn’t there,” he said flatly.
“Okay,” she said. “So we didn’t find mythological artifacts. But come on, Dad, we found the real deal – a real Templar treasure – and you’re pouting? Jeez, Dr. Moore, what’s it take to satisfy an archeologist of your caliber?”
“Baby girl, you’re absolutely right. Of course, this is magnificent.” But his tone lacked conviction.
Jerry turned away, pulled out his satellite phone, and began to dial.
Her father cocked his head curiously at his friend.
Jerry approached, holding out the phone. “Charles, old chum. My boss would like a word with you.”
“Well, put him on speaker. I want everyone to hear his excitement,” he said.
Jerry clicked the speaker button and handed him the phone.
“This is Charles Moore. To whom am I speaking?”
“Ah, Dr. Moore, it is a pleasure to finally speak to you,” came the stranger’s voice.
“Well, I have been here working for about a year now. You could have had the pleasure a long time back, Mr.…?”
“You were fully aware of the agreement, were you not?”
“Yes, of course, but I don’t understand the need to keep your identity secret from me. I can assure you that you have my—”
“Repeat it to me, Dr. Moore,” the caller demanded.
“Repeat… what?”
“The agreement. Repeat it to me.”
Breanne frowned, confused, as Edward and Paul traded looks and walked over to listen.
Her father drew in a breath, and she could see he was vexed by the stranger’s tone.
“The agreement, right. I agreed I would not know the identity of the person funding the operation. The dig is to remain secret and only my family and Jerry can be in the know. I will be allowed to publish my findings after the conclusion of the dig. Jerry assured me you agreed that all artifacts would be donated to the museum of my choice. I never understood what’s in it for you, but Jerry said your only interest is proving the island is not a fraud and that it truly holds a secret—”
“That’s enough,” the man said impatiently. “This was and is the agreement, Dr. Moore, so I suggest you honor it. Now, Jerry tells me you have found treasure and a Knight Templar skeleton kneeling atop an altar?”
“Yes, a Templar Knight was found robed with shield and sword, and the treasure is… well, it’s astonishing. It fills a giant chest that—”
“Right, very clever. The chest, you have removed the lid. What is the chest made of?” he asked.
Charles pulled an irritated face and looked at Bre. “Gold and wood. I have not analyzed it closely enough to see what kind of wood yet but—”
The man gave a loud sigh. “You’re not finished here, Dr. Moore.”
“Of course not, we still have months of work to do to try and understand what we’ve found here and why it was hidden in the first—”
“That’s not what I mean, Dr. Moore. I mean you have not finished looking.”
Breanne held her palms up and mouthed a single word. “What?”
Dr. Moore furrowed his brow in confusion. “I searched the cavern for hours – there is nothing else there. We found the treasure of the Templars, we found the knight, we reached the end and found the prize. For God’s sake, we’ve changed history! You, whoever in the hell you are, have been proven right. This place is a legitimate Knights Templar treasure hold – the Knights Templar treasure hold!”
The voic
e on the other end of the phone struck out sharply. “Dr. Moore, I hired you because you are supposed to be the best! Use your intelligence – or was I mistaken in my assumption that you possess any?”
Completely caught off guard by the man’s insult, her father began to get the look she had seen very few times. It was the look of rage. She had seen it once when Paul borrowed the car and wrecked it, and another time when Edward snuck a girlfriend in the house. Being the respectful girl she was, she’d removed her shoes but then left them sitting at the back door, where Charles found them the following morning. “Just who in the hell are you?” he shouted into the phone.
“Who I am does… not… matter!” bellowed the voice. “Ask yourself, doctor, does this feel like the end to you? When you can answer that question, then tell me if I have made the wrong choice or if you are ready get back to work and finish this. You must search, Dr. Moore – search until you have left nothing unexplored and no stone unturned!”
Before her father could say another word, the line clicked dead. The voice on the other end was gone.
Her father stood motionless for a long moment, his hands shaking.
No one spoke. Perhaps they were all as stunned as she was by the bizarre conversation. Finally, her father’s face transformed back into his normal visage, and he spoke.
“You know what bothers me?” he said.
“I know what bothers me. That guy needs an ass-kicking,” Paul said.
“Maybe – but, no, that’s not it. What bothers me is what he said. He said, ‘Does this feel like the end to you?’ In a strange way, that very question has been pulling at me since we opened that chest.”
“Dad, what are you saying?” Breanne asked.
“I don’t know, baby girl, but tomorrow at first light… we’re going back into that cavern.”
19
The Plan
Present day
Petersburg, Illinois
The four teenagers made their way back across the library to the circular table on the far side and sat down in the plastic chairs. “Now listen, guys, Lenny and I have to get to taekwondo class, and we still haven’t formed a plan yet,” Garrett said.
Lenny turned to Garrett. “What are we going do about Jack?”
“Good question. Pete, I think you should start getting whatever is left in that journal transferred over.”
“You’re not suggesting we give him the journal, are you?” Pete asked disapprovingly.
“Yeah, screw that! And screw Jack! You guys could kick his ass anyway, so just tell him to go pound sand,” Janis said, making a fist.
Pete smiled.
“Yeah, I don’t think we should give it to him either, Garrett – what if there is no temple or we can’t find it? At least then we have the old journal, which might at least be worth something,” Lenny said.
“Worth something! Are you an idiot? Of course it’s worth something. It’s priceless. We’re not selling it. It isn’t some paycheck, Lenny. It’s a priceless artifact – an artifact I found, by the way.” Pete leaned forward and peered over the frames of his glasses like an irritated schoolteacher.
Lenny held up his hands and laughed. “Easy, Petey, it was just a suggestion. Look, we won’t sell it, just settle down.”
Pete sat back in his chair.
“I kind of like this side of you, Pete, all taking command and stuff,” Lenny said with a smile.
“Look, guys,” Garrett said, “I’m not saying we give it to him. I mean the last thing we want is Jack shopping this thing around town and people asking questions, but let’s face some facts that will help us be prepared, okay? Pete needs to keep the journal to transfer it, and neither Lenny nor I can be there to protect you all the time. So just get it done, then we can figure out how to hide it. But right now that journal has a huge target on it. Agreed?” Garrett asked.
They nodded in agreement.
“Now we need to figure out when and where to start. I want to get to Eugene’s house and try to find the other half, but I scheduled the work for Saturday and that’s almost a week away,” Garrett said.
“Can you move it up?” Pete asked.
“Maybe, but I need some help. Lenny, can you teach the beginner class on Tuesday?”
Lenny made a sour face like he had just smelled something bad. “Oh, bro, you know I hate teaching beginners. Besides, I thought you needed a distraction at Eugene’s?”
“I do. That’s why Pete is going to be my distraction,” Garrett announced.
Pete raised an eyebrow.
“Think about it, Pete – it’s perfect. You just have to keep Eugene busy talking about history and get him to show you some of his stuff. He has an awesome coin collection, and even better, he has a killer Native American artifact collection. In the meantime, I will search behind the wall.”
“I’m in,” Pete said without further hesitation.
“Okay, then, Tuesday it is,” Garrett said.
“Between now and then, Janis and I will try and figure out who in the hell the ‘Keepers of the Light’ were.” Pete looked hopefully to Janis.
“Yep, and I’m available for a couple more hours tonight, Pete, if you are? I don’t have anything going on tomorrow after school either,” Janis said.
“So, what about me, man – how can I help?” Lenny asked.
“Right. Hey, Pete, read that part again about the tunnel and the arch,” Garrett said.
“Okay, hold on a sec.” Pete retrieved his notebook from his backpack. He scanned his notes and, finding the passage, began to read in his deep Lincoln voice.
“Look carefully over the side, and you will see a drainage opening large enough for a man to enter upright.”
“Keep going,” Garrett said, spinning his finger in a circle.
“Once inside, look for the archway, which holds a xxx xxx xxx. When you find xxx xxx remove xxx beloved xxx and, once removed, reach inside and pull the lever. This will allow the way to open, showing you the path.”
“Okay, now back up and read the one before that. The part about the marker.”
“The journal says to go to the west side of the river, and then it’s smudged out – here it is,” Pete said.
“Begin at my survey marker and walk directly east until you reach the river. At the end of the street head due xxx xxx xxx paces. Look carefully over the side, and you will see a drainage opening large enough for a man to enter upright.”
“See, the problem is we don’t know how many paces or in which direction to go once we reach the river. This is an old drainage tunnel – it may not even be there anymore,” Pete said.
“Look, if it’s there it can’t be far either way, right? I mean, we’re talking paces,” Lenny said.
“That could be anywhere. There are at least a half-dozen drainage pipes emptying into the river, and that’s just off the top of my head. And none of them sound like the text describes. All the ones I know of are round and concrete, not arched and brick, and not really tall enough for a man to stand upright. Even in the biggest ones, you would have to hunch down,” Lenny said.
“Lenny has a point,” said Pete. “Petersburg was built along giant bluffs with the entire downtown area and a few lower-income areas built in the river valley below, between the bluffs and the river. The bluffs are very steep and stretch all the way across the town’s east side. Thus, every time it rains, large quantities of water flow off the bluffs and right through town. Well, not exactly through town, but underneath it. The only way to ensure the river valley doesn’t flood each time it rains is to have large drainage pipes under each street running east to west. This large drainage system ensures the water is carried beneath the town and safely deposited into the river.”
Garrett stared at Pete. “I’m not even going to ask.”
“I read.” Pete shrugged. “Now, all the pipes I have seen draining into the river are round and look fairly modern. I think an arched tunnel from that era would have been noticed by now.”
“It could b
e hidden somehow, I guess – maybe something’s covering it?” Janis said, tapping her pencil eraser on the table. “I don’t know, a big stone or something? There are all kinds of chunks of old concrete littering the sides of the river. Or maybe it could have caved in dozens of years ago.”
Rapping his fingers on the table in thought, Lenny said, “I have been up and down this river running bank poles with my dad, all the way between here and New Salem, going south and almost all the way out to Altig Bridge Road going north. I’ve never seen anything like he described in the journal. But I’ve never searched for something hidden or signs of a caved-in tunnel either. Going by the journal, at least we know it has to be on the west bank of the river, so that narrows it to one side.”
“Good point, Lenny – that should make the search a little more manageable,” Pete said.
“You want me to start searching the riverbanks for something hidden?” Lenny asked uncertainly.
Garrett had sat back in his chair, quietly lost in thought. Suddenly, he realized everyone at the table was looking to him for direction. A smile stretched slowly across his face. “Lenny, I don’t think you’ll have to search at all.”
Now it was Garrett’s turn to stand and pace.
“Think about it,” he said, tapping a finger to his head. “Lincoln said start at his marker, which we know, thanks to Pete, is uptown on the square. So we can say with some certainty where, at the Sangamon River, we need to start—”
“Yes, but we still don’t know which direction to go in,” Pete interjected.
“I know, but hear me out,” Garrett said. “Ask yourself, do you really see him pacing off thousands of steps? I don’t – in fact, I see him pacing off in the low hundreds, tops. I think most people would lose track of steps if you tried to go too far into the hundreds. Besides, wouldn’t you just pace from one point to the next?”
