“You think he may have insured a valuable boat with us?”
“Actually, I’m not sure what he was doing,” Abby admitted. “But we think he owned a very valuable necklace. He may have been insuring that. The gem in it has been identified as the one known as the Blue Moon.”
“This is very odd.” The woman still sounded cool, but, reluctantly interested. “Who did you say you were again?”
Abby repeated her name and went on to explain her connection with the Nature Museum.
“I know the museum!” the woman exclaimed. “My husband and I were there last summer. It's a marvelous place. We were so impressed. I especially loved that Mount Saint Helen's exhibit. We wanted to go on one of the bird walks, but we ran out of time.”
“If you’d come, we’d have met. I’m an ornithologist and lead the bird walks.”
“Really?” The woman paused, as if taking a moment to digest that and perhaps realign Abby on her mental radar. “And you say you found this necklace in the museum?”
“That's right. Hidden in my desk. I’ve traced the possible ownership of the necklace to this man named Van Horn and his daughter Claudia. We’d like to release it to her, but we haven't been able to establish enough proof to make that possible.”
Another hesitation. “There may have been something. Let me check our files. Hold on.”
Abby scrunched the phone between jaw and shoulder, and with her one good hand she used the waiting time to clean out one of the pigeonholes in her desk. She could never understand how stuff accumulated with such speed. It was a good five minutes before Genevieve Pragmire returned.
“I’m sorry. It took me a while. Mr. Van Horn wasn't actually a client, so the file wasn't in with our regular files, but… Are the authorities involved in this, Dr. Stanton?”
“Oh yes. An officer named Sergeant Henry Cobb with the local county sheriff's department has been working on it. But a couple of incidents have happened that make me especially eager to see the necklace returned to its rightful owner as soon as possible.” Briefly Abby explained about both the dognapping and the encounter at the bank.
“And you call these incidents ?” the woman exclaimed. “I call them disasters! I’m sure I’d have fainted. But you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. But I’d like to avoid anything similar happening in the future.”
“I can understand that.” On a friendlier note than before she added, “Well, I can tell you a little of what we have here. Mr. Van Horn did contact us, and it was a necklace he wanted to insure, a quite valuable necklace. As I said, we specialize in this type of high-value policy for individual items not covered by regular policies, which is why he came to us, of course. But we never actually handled the insurance on the necklace.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“Basically, it was because, although he provided figures and documents showing a rough value of the necklace based on the value of property he traded for it, we needed a certified appraisal of the necklace itself. Mr. Van Horn was supposed to do that and get back to us, but we never heard from him again. I’m not sure why the folder's never been discarded rather than being in our pending file all this time. Just an oversight probably.”
“Is the daughter named Claudia mentioned?”
“Yes. This indicates her name was supposed to be on the insurance policy too. Except that it was never issued, apparently, from what you say, because he died before he could get back to us.”
“But you do have proof there that Mr. Van Horn obtained the necklace legitimately?”
“Oh yes, a documented trade, but—” The woman broke off. “Look, I know you’re totally trustworthy and reliable, and I wish I could tell you more, but I just don't think I can give you any further information. But if you’d have the authorities, this Sergeant Cobb you mentioned, or perhaps Claudia Wakefield herself contact us—”
Abby hid her disappointment, because, actually, she was as exhilarated as disappointed. “I’ll do that. And thank you! If you get over to the museum again, look me up.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Abby immediately relayed the information to Henry. He said he would contact the insurance company right away.
“Good work, Abby,” he added appreciatively.
She decided to hold off on sending the envelope over to Claudia Wakefield just yet.
HUGO CAME IN TO HIS OFFICE briefly on Monday afternoon. He said he wasn't feeling up to anything as vigorous as mountain climbing or scuba diving just yet, and he’d have to continue to have PSA blood tests regularly, but the doctor had assured him the surgery had accomplished exactly what it was supposed to. He was cancer free, no follow-up radiation needed. Abby was so glad to hear this that she came out from behind her desk to give him a warm hug of congratulations, which he returned with equal warmth. Then they sat in her office drinking tea while she gave him a full rundown on the events that had taken place while he was away.
“So Finnegan is home safe and sound, Van Horn's daughter is located, the Blue Moon is positively identified, and both the extortionist and the robber in the bank are safely in custody.” Hugo nodded with satisfaction. “Sounds as if, with your usual efficiency, you have the situation all wrapped up.”
“Not quite. Sheriff Dutton and the county's legal counsel are still considering the evidence provided by the insurance company about Claudia's right to the necklace.”
“I’m sure they have to cover all the legalities.”
“And I’m still hearing rumbles about the dangers of the Blue Moon's curse. I can't believe people are still concerned about it, but apparently they are.”
Hugo nodded. “I stopped in the drugstore to pick up a prescription and heard three people in there talking about it.”
“I suppose we could ask Henry to move the necklace off the island, to a safe deposit box somewhere else, until everything is settled,” Abby said. “But that doesn't address the real problem.”
“Which is that people are believing superstitious nonsense.”
“Exactly. As if the Blue Moon had yanked Nelson Van Horn's hang glider right out of the sky!”
Hugo leaned back in his chair, his thoughtful gaze looking off into space through Abby's office window. “I have an idea…”
Abby listened and agreed.
BECAUSE OF THE LIMITATIONS of having only one working arm, Abby enlisted Ida Tolliver's help to hurry the project along. Hugo brought several items from home to add. Abby hired handyman Rick DeBow to help too. She spent considerable time on the Internet and also conferred with Bobby McDonald. The two of them returned to Mount Ortiz where he took more photos, and she studied the wind drafts and bird movements more thoroughly.
She placed a display ad in The Birdcall and made some special invitations by phone to a few people who seemed most vocal about the dangers of the Blue Moon. She arranged with the Springhouse Café for catered hors d’oeuvres, plus sparkling apple and berry juice beverages. Ida made a huge banner to drape above the outside doors of the museum.
But before the big night on Friday arrived, another short project intervened. Henry contacted Abby to say Sheriff Dutton and the legal counsel were finally satisfied and arrangements were all made.
“We’re keeping it all very low-key,” he added. “Steven Jarvis is going to let me into the bank before regular opening time. Then an ordinary ferry ride over to Orcas.”
Abby laughed. “Although carrying a three-million-dollar cargo takes it rather out of the ordinary. Does Claudia know?”
“I told her we were bringing something, but I think she thinks it's just those things you had of her father’s. As I said, this is going to be very low-key. Sheriff Dutton didn't want to take any chances on word getting out, not even through Claudia.”
“That's good. But you be careful anyway, Henry, okay?” Then she hesitated, a certain word Henry had just said jumped out at her. “You told her we were bringing her something? We as in . . . ?”
“As in you and me. You w
ere in on finding this treasure. I think it's only fair that you’re in on seeing it go to its rightful owner. Sheriff Dutton agrees.”
They arranged to meet at the ferry the following morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CLAUDIA WAKEFIELD STOOD up from where she’d been working in a flower bed when the cruiser pulled into the driveway. She pushed back the sleeve of her blue chambray shirt with the back of her other hand. Abby and Henry got out of the cruiser and walked toward her.
“Oh my. It's ten o’clock already isn't it? I didn't realize that.” She smiled as she looked down at the grass stains on the knees of her old jeans. “Well, this is the real me. I guess you’ll have to take me as I am. All smudged and dirty. And maybe smelling of compost too.”
This time she took them in through the kitchen, dropping off her dirt-stained sneakers at the door and going into a bathroom near the back door to wash her hands.
“Coffee?” she asked when she rejoined them in the kitchen.
This time Henry accepted and so did Abby. Claudia motioned them to chairs around a round maple table with pale cream placemats. A plate of oatmeal-raisin cookies accompanied the mugs of coffee when she brought them. She sat at the table with them, her mug in her hands.
“So you’ve brought those items my father left in the Washingtons’ guest room?”
“Yes, we did. Liberty apologized for no longer having the clothes. So this is what there was.” Abby handed over the envelope she had never mailed. “I don't think there's anything of importance, but I thought you might want to look through them.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I’ve been wondering about Greg and that other man—what was his name? Gamino? Whom you said were in custody.” Claudia skimmed through the items in the envelope as she spoke.
“Neither has been able to post bail and they’re still in custody. They’ve been arraigned on various charges. It will probably take a while, but eventually they’ll go to trial.” Henry reached for briefcase at his side. “We have something else for you.”
He opened the briefcase at his side and set a plain-colored, oblong box on the table. “Open it.”
Abby hadn't seen the necklace for a while and she felt awed all over. The vivid color of the blue diamond, its incredible depth and sparkle. The elegance of the glittering diamonds surrounding it and the sheer opulence of the entwined strands of tiny diamonds. She glanced up and saw Claudia staring at the necklace with equal awe.
“My father planned to give me this for my birthday?”
“That was his plan, yes,” Abby said. “The blue diamond was identified just a couple of days ago as the famous gem known as the Blue Moon. It's almost perfect, only two tiny flaws, which were what made identification possible, actually. It has quite a history, from first being found in India to belonging to a French king, various noblemen and even a famous wine-making family.”
“May I take it out of the box?”
Henry laughed. “It's yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”
Claudia reached for the dazzling chain, then stopped. “But I thought I had to have proof of ownership before I could have it. And I don't have any proof.”
“We do,” Henry said. He reached into the briefcase again and spread various documents across the table. “What we have here are copies of an agreement trading property that your father had owned in Italy for a number of years, with a value that translates to approximately 2.7 million U.S. dollars, for a necklace containing a twenty-one carat blue diamond.”
It was the first time Abby had seen the documents. If Van Horn was into anything shady, this gift meant for his daughter was not involved. Had Wakefield and/or Gamino been involved in the transaction? Or had they somehow known about it and tried to cut themselves in when the necklace surfaced after Van Horn's death? They were not mentioned in these documents.
“Where in the world did you get all this?” Claudia asked, obviously astonished.
“Your father was making arrangements with an insurance company to insure the necklace at the time of his death. Abby here—” Henry motioned to Abby sitting beside him. She still felt a little dazzled looking at the necklace again. “—located them and got the information for us to work with. Then I contacted them and the insurance company faxed everything over to us. The county legal counsel took it a step further and looked up your father's probated will to make certain you were the legal heir.”
“I . . . I really don't know what to say,” Claudia murmured, as if she was a little stunned. “Thank you, Abby. And you, too, Sergeant Cobb. And everybody else who had a part in this.”
“I think the first thing you should say is that you’re going to get the necklace insured immediately. And get it to some safe place as soon as possible. In fact, if you’d like, Abby and I can accompany you to a bank for safekeeping.”
“Actually, I have a wall safe here at the house. Dad had it installed a few months before he died. It's hidden and quite secure, I’m sure. I wonder if he had this planned even then?” she mused.
Could be, Abby thought. A strange man, Van Horn. Cautious about some things. Reckless about others.
“Well, we’ll be going then,” Henry said. He stood up.
“Actually,” Claudia said thoughtfully, the dazzling necklace dangling from her fingers now. “I won't be keeping it in the safe for long anyway.” She smiled. “I can't quite see myself wearing this when I’m out there digging up the flower beds or in here making breakfast for my guests, can you?”
“It's worth a great deal if you plan to sell it,” Abby said.
“I’ve been thinking since you were here the last time,” Claudia said slowly. She let the necklace twist and turn in her fingers, letting the light catch it. “And now that I’ve seen the necklace and know its name and heard its history, I’m sure of it.”
“Sure of . . . ?”
“I don't think it should be stuck away in a dark safe deposit box where no one can see it. I’m going to donate it to a museum, where everyone can see and enjoy it.”
A woman with class indeed, Abby thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
FRIDAY NIGHT. THE TIME for the big event had arrived.
The weather was cooperating, stars sparkling overhead and the waning moon riding high in a clear sky. Inside and out, every light in the museum blazed. Ida's outdoor banner announcing New Exhibit Opening Tonight! developed a droop at one end but Rick DeBow brought out a ladder and quickly straightened it. The parking lot started to fill.
Inside, people milled around drinking sparkling juice and eating hors d’oeuvres, the cream cheese-and-salmon variety a strong favorite.
Promptly at seven o’clock Ida unveiled the new exhibit. A sign across the top identified it: Bird Flight and Early Human Flight. Inside, a carved model of an eagle in flight hung from the ceiling, beside it a tiny, colorful model of a hummingbird, showing two totally different styles of bird flight. Models depicting various forms of early human flight were hanging beyond them: Bobby's first model of an ornithopter, a model of the Wright Brothers’ first plane from Hugo's personal collection, a miniature copy of a hang glider, and a hot-air balloon. A box kite in the shape of a castle, another contribution from Bobby, filled one corner.
The display below included individual feathers with diagrams of how they affected flight, enlarged sketches of various outrageous ornithopters people had tried to fly in the early years, plus enlarged photos of birds in flight, several of which Bobby had taken on Mount Ortiz.
Rick had built a small platform for Abby, and she stood on it to talk to the crowd about what was in the exhibit.
She talked first about bird flight and the early assumption that man could fly only by imitating the flapping of a bird's wings.
“One fable carried this idea of copying birds to the extreme, in that it actually used birds. A king named Kai Kawus wanted to fly, and, being a king, he wanted to do it while sitting on his throne. So the scheme was to put a tall pole on each co
rner of the throne, with large chunks of meat on top. Hungry eagles were chained at the bottom of the throne, and their attempts to fly up to get the meat were supposed to lift the throne.” She looked over the group. “Does anyone think this worked?”
“About as well as the time I tried to fly using pillowcases and a bunch of balloons from my birthday party when I was a little kid,” Aaron Holloway said. He patted a hip, which was apparently where his own early attempt at human flight had landed him. He’d shown up early this evening to help Ida with some last-minute details.
Abby went on with other details about how man had tried to make flapping-wing machines, usually powered by pedaling or kicking, and made of everything from actual feathers to taffeta. Other hopefuls had tried oversized kites and found that though a huge box kite might lift a man off the ground, where the kite and man went was no more controllable than the whim of the wind.
“Actual flight had to wait until the forces of lift, drag and gravity—and how each affects flight—were better understood,” she explained.
Abby didn't want to get too technical in her talk about flight, but she thought she had to go into some detail in order to explain the tragic death here on Sparrow Island that had some of the more superstitious residents concerned.
“The hang glider came about when people began to understand more about the technical aspects of flight. You have only to look at an eagle or vulture floating effortlessly to realize that flapping wings aren't always necessary. With a hang glider the pilot runs down a slope to get air moving across the wing, which generates lift. Gravity and the pilot pull the hang glider down, of course, but also moves it forward, creating more air flow over the wing. The hang glider pilot can, as the eagle and vulture do, also take advantage of the thermal lift in rising hot air or air deflected upward by a cliff or ridge.”
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