Chapter 20
“Land ho,” Ivy cried as the docks of Port-de-Paix drew closer. Sasha had steered the sailboat straight back to mainland Haiti at Carmen’s request.
“Are you ever going to tell me what just happened?” Sasha asked as she adjusted the sail.
“Probably not.” Carmen smiled ruefully. “Sorry. But I’ll make it up to you—promise.”
“Okay, sure.” Sasha eyed her warily but didn’t say anything else as she steered the boat to shore.
Soon the trio was loading the treasure chest into the trunk of a battered old taxi. “What if those VILE goons come after us?” Zack asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder. “It won’t take them long to figure out where we went.”
“Don’t worry,” Player said in Carmen’s comm-link. “The plane’s waiting. Engine’s already running.”
“Cool.” Carmen told Zack and Ivy what Player had said. “Let’s take separate taxis to the airport.” She waved to hail a second cab idling nearby, then jumped into the first one. “I’ll meet you two there. I have one last little errand to run on the way . . .”
* * *
Chase Devineaux cursed in French as he tripped over yet another tree root. It was growing dark, and his progress down the treacherous mountain trail on foot was slow and rather painful. He’d tried to repair the motorbike, but after a long, sweaty search for that loose tire, he’d finally spotted it—only to have a large monkey suddenly appear and grab it, chattering wildly at him as it leaped up and disappeared into the treetops with the tire.
“Curse you, Carmen Sandiego,” he muttered. “Curse you and the donkey you rode out on!”
Suddenly he became aware of a distant thrumming sound—a motor? He stopped and tilted his head, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Overhead? Could it be a passing small plane or helicopter? If so, perhaps he could flag it down—perhaps there was even time to catch up to Carmen Sandiego before she slipped completely through his fingers once again . . .
He hurried into a clearing and glanced up, but accidentally looked directly into the setting sun. Cursing again, he squeezed his eyes closed, certain now that the thrumming sound was coming from the sky just overhead.
Then he jumped as something clattered to the jungle floor nearby. He opened his eyes and stepped toward it, surprised to see a sleek, modern-looking polished metal cylinder with a tiny parachute attached to it.
“No monkey threw that at me,” he said, squinting up at the sky again. But the thrumming had already faded, and there was no sight of an aircraft. “What in the world . . .”
He picked up the item. It appeared to be a container of some sort. When he twisted one end, a lid popped off, revealing something inside . . . A fountain pen!
Devineaux’s jaw dropped when he saw the ACME logo on the pen. When he clicked the top of the pen, a glowing blue hologram burst out in full 3-D. It was Chief—the head of ACME, and his potential new boss.
“Enjoying your nature walk, Inspector Devineaux?” she asked with a quirk of one eyebrow. “I never took you for the outdoorsy type.”
Devineaux let out a snort. “Are you going to crack jokes, or are you going to send someone to rescue me?”
“Why would I do that?” Chief replied. “You seem to have things under control.”
Devineaux grimaced. “I did!” he insisted. “It was Carmen Sandiego—I had her! But she stole my donkey, and—”
“That’s enough!” Chief cut him off. “Mr. Devineaux, this is not a game. If we invite you to join ACME . . .”
“If?” Devineaux exclaimed. “But you have invited me! Haven’t you? You cannot go back on your word!”
“And you cannot go running off at the drop of a certain red hat,” she said sternly. “You’re lucky Agent Argent is sharp enough to figure out where you went. She also put in a good word for you, though I’m still not entirely convinced you’re worth the trouble. Perhaps I should leave you to your . . . er . . . freelance work after all.” The hologram shimmered and began to fade.
“No, please, I am worth it!” Devineaux cried, clutching the pen and clicking it again and again. “Upon my honor, madam, I swear I will do better! I shall never go rogue again, I promise! Don’t leave me out here! I want to join ACME, I do!”
Chief smiled, still fading. “I thought you’d see things my way . . .”
A second later, Devineaux heard that thrumming sound overhead again. A helicopter came into view, hovering over the clearing. Then a rope ladder tumbled down, nearly hitting him on the head. Devineaux grabbed it gratefully.
“Look out, Carmen Sandiego,” he muttered, surveying the island as the chopper lifted him above the tropical canopy. “Perhaps I could not catch you as an Interpol agent. But things will be different now! I will find you, mark my—mon Dieu!” He cut himself off as a colorful jungle bird flew up past his face, squawking wildly—and deposited a moist white smelly blob directly on his head.
* * *
At that very moment, Sasha stepped into the Tourist Information shop, gloomy now in the rapidly fading light. She sighed and looked around the shabby little room, still thinking back over the excitement of the past several hours, since the mysterious girl named Carmen had first walked in. What had just happened, anyway? Carmen and her friends had seemed nice enough, but that treasure . . . Sasha hoped she hadn’t just helped a thief steal something that belonged rightfully to her island!
“Ah, well, it’s back to normal now, in any case,” she murmured, imagining days spent sitting here, perhaps occasionally being hired to transport someone to Île de la Tortue or down the coast to other beaches. Daydreaming all the while of something more—just as she’d always done.
She stepped behind the counter to turn off the light. As she did, she banged her foot on something wedged back there.
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “What is . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she gasped.
It was the treasure chest! She dropped to her knees, running her hands over its rough lid. Holding her breath, she swung the lid open—and fell back at the sight of all those jewels and doubloons, which somehow seemed to shine even more brightly in the dimly lit shop than they had under the Caribbean sun . . .
Lying atop the treasure was a folded sheet of white paper. Sasha picked it up and unfolded it with trembling hands.
Hi, Sasha,
Sorry I couldn’t tell you everything. But I’m hoping this will make it up to you. It should be enough to get your eco-resort started—and fulfill your dream of making life better for all the people of Tortuga. Maybe that will help right some wrongs committed long ago. Good luck!
Your friend,
Carmen
Sasha stared at the words until she couldn’t see them anymore because of the tears flooding her eyes. “Oh, thank you, Carmen!” she cried, clutching the note to her chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
* * *
“You what?!” Zack cried as the plane banked over Haiti, heading east.
“What do you mean, you gave Sasha the treasure?!” Ivy exclaimed at the same time.
“Cal Cutlass always intended for that treasure to go to the people of Tortuga. And now it has,” Carmen reminded them. “Besides, I always donate what I steal from VILE to a worthy cause, right? And what’s a worthier cause than letting Sasha make her dream of helping her people come true?”
“I guess.” Zack scowled. “But at least you coulda let us, you know, enjoy it for a few days.”
“Play with it, you mean?” Ivy smirked at her brother. “Grow up!”
“You grow up!” Zack stuck out his tongue at her.
“Settle down, both of you,” Carmen said. “Player, can you ask the pilot to take us back to London?”
“Already did,” he said. “I figured you’d want to return that diary as soon as possible.”
“You didn’t give Cal’s diary to Sasha for her pirate resort?” Ivy asked.
“I didn’t want to get her in trouble for harboring stolen property,” Carme
n explained. “But don’t worry, I’m planning to scan the whole thing on our way back and send it to her. She should know the whole story about Cal Cutlass—and why it’s so important that the treasure stayed on Tortuga.”
Zack nodded and sighed sadly. “I guess that’s the end of our pirate adventure.”
Carmen laughed. “Don’t look so glum,” she said. “What—you thought I wouldn’t get a souvenir for you guys?” She reached into her trench coat and pulled out a couple of doubloons. “Here—catch!”
Zack cried out with delight as he caught his doubloon. Ivy grabbed hers, too, and studied it.
“Cool,” she said. “Thanks, Carm.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sure Cal Cutlass would’ve wanted you to have them.” Carmen pulled out one last item. “And I think she might’ve wanted me to hang on to this.” She slipped on Cal’s eye patch and struck a pose, hoping that somewhere, somehow, the brave female pirate was at rest now. “Jaunty, right? Maybe I’ll be able to use it in a disguise sometime.”
At the Traitor’s Gate:
The Tower of London
Did you know . . .
The original structure, the White Tower, was built by William the Conqueror in the 1070s.
Its buildings and grounds have had many uses over the years, from prison to execution site, palace to arsenal, and zoo to royal mint.
Queen Elizabeth I was once held prisoner there (before she was crowned) by her sister, Mary.
Millions of people visit each year.
It’s not actually a single “tower,” but a castle and fortress made up of numerous towers.
The current buildings take up a full eighteen acres.
The British Crown Jewels are kept at the Tower of London, where they are on display for visitors, and are among the most popular attractions in London.
The Yeoman Warders, or “beefeaters,” who guide tours there area detachment of the Yeomen of the Guard, which was formed in 1485.
Beefeaters are members of the Armed Forces and must have completed twenty-two years of military service, reached the rank of warrant officer, been awarded the Long Service and Good Conduct Medal, and be between forty and fifty-five years old on appointment. Each recruit takes an oath of royal allegiances aid to date back to 1337.
The first female Yeoman Warder is Moira Cameron, who joined the ranks of the thirty-seven guards in 2007.
Seven ravens (six required and an extra for safety) live in the Tower. According to legend, the Tower and the kingdom would fall if these ravens were ever to leave the Tower. Their flight feathers are clipped so they can’t fly far, but they’re well fed and protected by a special Ravenmaster so they have no reason to leave.
The Royal Menagerie was located in the Tower for hundreds of years, from the early 1200s to the 1830s. Its famous animals over the years included a grizzly bear named Old Martin and Henry III’s “white bear” (likely a polar bear), which was agift from the king of Norway in 1252. The Royal Menagerie closed down in 1835, and most of the animals were moved to the London Zoo in Regent’s Park.
The moat was drained in 1843. Now, it’s a beautiful low lawn surrounding the outermost walls of the Tower where events can be held.
Yo Ho, Yo Ho, It’s a Decoding Life for Me!
Youʼve helped Carmen Sandiego find the missing treasure—now use Cal Cutlassʼs symbols to decode a few more messages.
Answer key:
WHERE IN THE WORLD IS CARMEN SANDIEGO?
BLACK SHEEP
CHASE DEVINEAUX
DIARY OF CAL CUTLASS, PIRATE
PORT ROYAL, JAMAICA
THE PIRATE HAVEN OF TORTUGA
THIEVES RESIDE ON THE ISLE OF VILE
Break the Code
Now that you’ve mastered the code that Cal Cutlass created in the story, use the Caesar Cipher to create your own mystery messages. According to ancient historians, Julius Caesar used this code to send messages of great importance during his reignas Roman emperor. This is a code where you shift letters three places over in the alphabet as follows:
PLAIN:
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
CIPHER:
X
Y
Z
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
PLAIN:
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
Z
CIPHER:
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
So, the letter A gets replaced with an X, B with a Z, continuing down the alphabet. Get some practice in by decoding this message from Carmen Sandiego.
DOBXQ TLOH TFQE QEB ZLABP!
KLT FQP QFJB QL MRQ VLRO HKLTIBADB QL TLOH . . . CLO DLLA, LC ZLROPB.
–ZXOJBK PXKAFBDL
Answer key: GREAT WORK WITH THE CODES! NOW IT’S TIME TO PUT YOUR KNOWLEDGE TO WORK . . . FOR GOOD, OF COURSE. —CARMEN SANDIEGO
A Brief (Pirate) History of Tortuga and Port Royal
Tortuga
When Christopher Columbus arrived on a new island in 1492, he thought its shape looked like a turtle’s shell, so he named the island Tortuga, or “turtle” in Spanish. European settlers began moving to Tortuga in 1629, and colonial possession of the island traded hands between the French, Spanish, and English many times until 1665, when the French took control. It was during this time of conflict and uncertain borders that the pirates used the island as a hideout. Today, Tortuga is part of Haiti, with no pirates in sight.
Here There Be Pirates
While Cal Cutlass and Captain Goldtooth are fictional characters, Tortuga and Port Royal were chock-full of real pirates—and real pirate history.
A pirate leader named Jean le Vasseur built a 24-gun castle called Fort de Rocher on Tortuga to help guard the island’s harbor.
Two of Black Bart’s ships were destroyed in the Port Royal harbor during a storm in 1722.
In 1720, Calico Jack was hanged at Gallows Point in Port Royal.
Captain Henry Morgan was actually lieutenant governor of Jamaica, and used Port Royal as the base of his piracy. He died four years before the earthquake of 1692.
Port Royal
In the later 1600s, Port Royal (a harbor town on the southern coast of Jamaica) was the busiest trading center in the West Indies. Jamaica was colonized by the Spanish, but in the 1650s it was seized by the English.
Under English rule, Port Royal entered a period of immense wealth and questionable moral character. Buccaneers, or pirates, were invited to stay in the harbor to serve as protection from Spanish attacks, and merchants traded sugar and timber. Port Royal developed the reputation of being the “wickedest city in the world.”
Then, on June 7, 1692, Port Royal was struck by an earthquake that devastated the city. The earthquake was estimated to be magnitude 7.5, and one of the most famous artifacts from it is a pocket watch, the time stopped at 11:43, when the earthquake hit. The city’s foundations had been built on sand, so many buildings were swallowed up almost immediately. Thirty-three acres of land sank under the water, about 2,000 people died in the quake, and thousands more later died from injuries and disease. After that, it was still used by pirates as a base to attack Spanish ships, but its popularity and fortunes declined.
Modern-day Port Royal is a small, quiet fishing community with immense archaeological treasures located just be
low the surface of the sea. It was declared a National Heritage Site in 1999 and is one of the most important underwater sites in the world.
Eyewitness to Destruction
“On Tuesday the 7th of June 1692, betwixt eleven and twelve at noon, I being at a tavern, we felt the house shake and saw the bricks begin to rise in the floor, and at the same instant, heard one in the street cry, ‘An Earthquake!’ Immediately we ran out of the house, where we saw all people with lifted-up hands, begging God’s assistance. We continued running up the street, whilst on either side of us, we saw the houses, some swallowed up, others thrown on heaps; the sand in the street rising like the waves of the sea, lifting up all persons that stood upon it, and immediately dropping down into pits; and at the same instant, a flood of water breaking in and rolling those poor souls over and over; some catching hold of beams and rafters in houses; others were found in the sand, that appeared when the water was drained away, with their legs and arms out, we beholding this dismal sight.”
Letter written by a survivor of the 1692 earthquake, featured in An History of Jamaica: With Observations by Robert Renny, 1807
Zack Is Hungry . . . Are You?
In the story, Zack is hankering after some Jamaican jerk chicken. Sleuth around the kitchen and see if you can find the ingredients to make this tasty dish at home.
Jamaican Jerk Chicken
Makes 8 servings
Clue by Clue Page 8
