Treasure of the Dead

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Treasure of the Dead Page 8

by David Wood


  “Hopefully whoever busted in here didn’t cut the line.” Willis narrowed his eyes.

  Fabi led them into the kitchen where a cordless digital phone lay overturned on the counter, as though it had been knocked from its charging cradle. She picked it up, held it to her ear and pronounced there was still a dial tone. She handed it to Maddock and he dialed a number. While it was ringing, he explained to Fabi.

  “Calling an old friend, Jimmy Letson. He was in the SEAL BUDS training with us, but he dropped out halfway through—they call it ‘ringing out’ because you literally ring a bell to formally quit. He’s a good guy, though, went on to be a journalist, has done a lot of research and knows about a ton of things. I gave him a heads up earlier that I might need his help. Hopefully…”

  Maddock cut himself off and held up a finger, indicating someone had picked up on the other end.

  “Hey, its me. You find anything?” A brief pause. “No, of course I don’t take you for granted.” Another pause. “Two bottles? You got it.”

  Maddock turned to Fabi and made a scribbling motion, meaning he needed to take notes. She found a pad and pen on the floor that had been tossed out of a drawer and gave them to Maddock, who set the pad on the counter and began to write.

  For the next few minutes, she and the others heard him say a lot of, “Uh huh...okay...yeah...” punctuated by occasional requests for clarification, such as, “And that perspective is unique to Haiti or more universal?”

  When the topic of conversation had run its course, Maddock thanked him and hung up the phone.

  Willis wasted no time. “What’d he say?”

  Maddock took a deep breath and eyeballed his notes for a moment before speaking. “He knows a lot about zombies in general, not all specific to Haiti,” he said, directing the last part of the statement to Fabi. He didn’t want to offend her by requesting outside help besides her local contacts, but Maddock and Bones had relied on Letson more than once to get them out of a jam, and he had always come through for them.

  “Out with it, Maddock,” Bones prompted.

  Maddock nodded, looked at his notes one more time, then summed up what Letson had told him. “So basically there are different takes on the classic zombie myth depending how you look at it. For example, a psychologist might see a zombie as simply a personification of a mental condition where a person feels overworked. Slaves, for example, reported feeling like dead men walking, merely going through the motions of being alive without actually living. A pharmacologist, on the other hand, would suspect a drug-induced state responsible for feeling dull and causing a general lack of vitality.”

  Fabi looked impressed. “Makes sense. There is of course a strong slave history in Haiti. Many of the first African slaves were brought to Hispaniola.”

  Maddock nodded. “But zombii can also be considered from other angles, such as scientific. There is biological basis for zombiism, including in the animal world, like ants that are taken over by fungi and other examples of extreme parasitism. “

  “Cool,” Bones interjected.

  “And of course, there’s the occult.” Maddock looked at them to make sure he still had their attention, then consulted his notes again. “The word ‘occult’ basically means secret or hidden, and there are many spiritual practices that fall under the occult...”

  Willis cleared his throat and looked at Fabi. “As we saw with your friend, Rose.”

  Fabi smiled. “Thought you might like her!”

  Maddock continued. “She was helpful, and in fact I think I see how something she said ties together with what Jimmy told me about the occult.” Maddock got three blank stares, so he went on. “Rose mentioned that only evil practitioners of vodou will create a zombie. Jimmy told me that a person put into a voodoo trance will meander around in a lifeless daze. So it makes sense to me that, here in Haiti, there could possibly be a group of people creating zombies on purpose—but that the exact definition of zombii may be subject to interpretation.”

  Bones shook his head. “That doesn’t give us a lot to go on, Maddock. We need a direction, here.”

  “That’s only the background. You know Jimmy. His research is deep, and he gets very specific, especially with a bottle of Haiti’s finest rum on the line.”

  No one said anything, prompting Maddock to continue. “Jimmy says he’s still working on this, so I’ll stay in touch, but he uncovered a few interesting things already. For instance, he found mention of our crazy Spanish sailor’s name, Alonso Sanchez, in reference to a man living in Cap-Haitien around the same timeframe.”

  Fabi and Bones raised their eyebrows while Willis furrowed his brow. “He also discovered that there has been a rash of zombii reports in Cap-Haitien.” Maddock let this hang until Bones asked, “Has been, as in recently?”

  Maddock nodded. “As in the last three years.”

  Willis looked happy. “Here’s some voodoo for you: I sense a road trip to Cap-Haitien in our near future.”

  Fabi held up a finger. “I’ve got an idea. My supervisor at the clinic where I volunteer asked me if I’d be interested in possibly going full-time at one of the larger clinics, and I know one of those happens to be in Cap-Haitien. So what I could do is take him up on his offer—I was seriously considering it anyway as a way to expand my professional reach—and then while I’m there maybe I’ll be able to learn more about these zombii attack rumors.”

  Maddock looked agreeable to this. He nodded to Bones and Willis. “Jimmy also gave me a list of landmarks around Cap-Haitien that might lead to treasure clues, so we can go up there together and while Fabi is setting up shop, we can follow up on those.”

  Chapter 18

  Cap-Hatien

  Odelin picked up his cellular phone on the first ring and flipped it open. The voice on the other end was no-nonsense, instructing him to be on the lookout for Fabiola Baptiste, who had just taken a new job in Cap-Hatien.

  “You ought to be able to keep tabs on her, and anyone with whom she might be working.”

  Odelin translated “you ought to” as “you had better”. He smiled. For once he was ahead of his boss.

  “I’m already on it.” He ended the call and peered over his local newspaper at the front door of the health clinic. He’d been staked out here for some time, watching for Fabi, but was surprised to see the three American men emerge from the front door. He scowled, wondering what they were up to, and then he placed a call on his phone.

  When his contact answered, he said, “I need you to follow someone, and I need you to make it fast. Listen carefully...”

  The old Jeep Wrangler rolled to a halt in front of Sans Souci Palace, Maddock at the wheel with Willis having won the ro-sham-bo for the shotgun seat, Bones in the back.

  “Cool place.” Bones admired the expansive, multi-story stone and brick structure. The former residence was set atop an expansive grassy hill, with a dirt switchback traversing part of it.

  “Jimmy told me it was built in 1813 as the home of Haiti’s king at the time, Henri I. It was built by slaves, many of whom were reported to have died during construction. Once it was done, it became known for hosting elaborate parties.”

  Bones stared up at the historical landmark, his expression conflicted. “Normally I would say, ‘Sounds like my kind of place,’ but I don’t know...the whole slave labor thing puts a little bit of a damper on it for me.”

  Willis snorted. “Just a little bit.”

  “One more thing,” Maddock pointed out. “These days it’s abandoned.”

  “We’ll be the only ones here?” Willis asked.

  Maddock shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It’s more or less open ruins. But it doesn’t look crowded.”

  They saw two other vehicles parked some distance away, but no other people. They took it all in for a few moments and then Bones’ features screwed up into a puzzled expression.

  “Wait a minute...Isn’t the timeline all wrong for our crazy sailor if this place wasn’t built until 1813?”

&
nbsp; Maddock nodded. “Jimmy told me that before the palace was built, this was the site of a plantation run by a serious bad guy, and the sailor worked there. So I figured this might be worth checking out.” He nodded up the hill to the old palace.

  “Bad guy how?” Willis wanted to know.

  Maddock shrugged. “He didn’t elaborate. I figured he was a slave-driver plantation owner type, typical for the 1700s.”

  Bones jumped out of the Jeep. “Let’s get to it.”

  Chapter 19

  Sans Souci Palace

  The ruins of the Sans Souci Palace loomed gray and foreboding atop a high hill. Despite the fact that it was, literally, a shell of its former self, its majesty was evident in the impressive architecture and solid construction. Above a series of walled terraces, high windows and arched doorways looked out from the once ornate structure. The brick construction was visible beneath the crumbling veneer.

  “They don’t make them like that anymore,” Bones mused.

  “Yeah, but why’d they have to build it so high up?” Willis mopped his brow as he trudged up the switchback.

  “Better sight lines. Makes it more defensible.” Maddock eyed the towering edifice. Sunlight shone through narrow windows cut in the stone walls.

  “Defensible against who, exactly?” Bones asked.

  “The British. The Spanish. Maybe pirates?” Maddock resumed hiking up the trail again. They reached the front wall of the palace and had to skirt it for some distance before they found a break in its length and continued on their way up.

  Once inside the palace walls, Willis whistled out of appreciation for just how expansive the property was. “Gonna take some time to check all this out. We better get moving.”

  Maddock agreed, but added, “I think it’s doubtful there could still be anything meaningful as a clue in plain sight.”

  “Maybe more coded messages?” Bones thought aloud.

  “Maybe. But I think we should concentrate our search by looking for something that leads down, underground. If there is anything below the palace, that’s what we want to see.”

  “Let’s spread out, then, and if we find anything that leads down we’ll meet up,” Bones suggested.

  The three were in agreement and set off in different directions around the palace. Bones headed inside at the closest entry point to where they stood, while Willis went right around the perimeter, and Maddock went left.

  Once on the opposite side of the palace from where they started, Maddock stepped inside through an open arch. Inside was empty and barren looking, leaves and debris scattered about, even a few beer bottles, cigarette butts and food wrappers. Clearly the place was visited now and again. He moved through the floor plan, which was mostly open, rooms delineated only by great open archways. He found a stairway leading up and ascended, deciding to take a quick look even though he sought a passage beneath the palace. Upstairs it looked no different than the ground floor, though, and after a rapid walkthrough, Maddock descended the stairs back to the main level.

  He listened for a minute to make sure he wasn’t missing anything from Bones or Willis, or anything else, but all was quiet so he continued with his reconnoitering of the first level. He passed through a series of new rooms, but they too were devoid of functional features. He moved into a smaller room at the corner of the palace. This room featured an intact staircase leading up to the second level. Maddock was considering walking up there to check out this end of the second level, when his gaze followed the stairway back down to where it met the floor, and lingered there.

  On first glance he had assumed that the floor where the staircase joined it was broken up, the stone smashed by...by what, he had no idea, but there were many parts of this old palace that were crumbling. But now, on closer inspection, Maddock could see that the section of floor was comprised of a jumble of stones and rock slabs, of the same type as that of which the palace was made. Many of them were precariously stacked up against one another, and Maddock became curious as to whether they might conceal anything beneath them.

  He kicked over a couple of the jagged slabs with his shoe, overturning them to reveal more rocks underneath them. He continued his excavation, kicking aside large pieces in order to reveal what lay beneath. After a few minutes he had moved aside enough rock to see that there were two smooth , intact slabs of stone, one above the other. He worked aside more rock, and then the realization hit him: he was looking at part of the stairway that led down, beneath the first floor.

  Excited, he called out for Bones and Willis without using their names, an operational habit ingrained in him from his days as a SEAL. They signaled they had heard and were on their way, and Maddock resumed his excavation of the stairway. He proceeded carefully, assuming correctly that much of the aged staircase had crumbled and fallen away, leaving gaps and unstable spans. By the time he had uncovered enough rubble to see an open hole gaping into a black void wide enough for him to squeeze through, Bones and Willis came jogging into the room.

  Maddock explained the condition of the hidden staircase. He urged them to take caution so as not to fall through, and then they proceeded to help him remove more of the rubble. The work proceeded in rapid fashion with the three former SEAL teammates working together, and in short order they had opened up enough of the stairway to get a clear look at what they were dealing with.

  An opening easily large enough to accommodate a single man now yawned at their feet. Maddock aimed his flashlight down into the gap they had created.

  “I see a hard floor down there, about ten feet down. But the steps are shot, so it’ll have to be a hang-and-drop to get down.”

  “What about getting back up?” Bones asked.

  “Since when are you so sensible, man?” Willis asked. “But here...” He rummaged into his pack and pulled out a rope. “Wouldn’t you know it, I saved the one from the other fort for good luck.”

  Willis wrapped the rope around a heavy stone block and let the other end drop down into the uncovered space.

  “Hold this.” Maddock handed Willis his flashlight and Willis aimed it down into the opening as Maddock dropped into the hole.

  “Drop the light down.” Willis lowered it as far as he could and let it drop into Maddock’s outstretched hand. He and Bones watched as he shone the beam around.

  “Worth making the trip?” Bones asked.

  “Affirmative. Come on down.”

  First Bones, then Willis joined Maddock, who still stood in the center of what they could now see was a small, roughly cube-shaped room.

  “What is this place?” Willis asked.

  Maddock started walking around. “Maybe a cellar?”

  “Whatever it is, it looks like it doesn’t have any exits except for the stairs.”

  “Let’s make sure.” Bones had been in similar situations with Maddock where they had ended up finding hidden passages. But after an extremely thorough search even he was ready to admit that this room was probably nothing more than a cellar.

  The white van rolled at low speed, skirting the low-lying palace grounds. Two Haitian men occupied the van, one staring through binoculars up at the palace itself.

  “They’re inside the palace building now,” the one with binoculars said. The driver turned right, onto the dirt switchback that led up the hill. A cacophony of groaning and thumping could be heard emanating from the rear cargo hold. The individual in the passenger seat banged his binoculars on the divider walling off the cargo space. “Quiet down back there.”

  The van crested the top of the hill and rolled to a stop next to the palace itself. The passenger again scanned the surroundings, including into the building through open archways, using the optics.

  “These clowns have got nothing. They’re wandering around in there.”

  “So we don’t need them.” The driver rolled the van even closer to the palace wall.

  The passenger shook his head. “No way. Let’s see how they fare against our friends.”

  The driver nodded and q
uietly opened his door. “I’ll open the back doors and let them out. Should be fun!”

  Chapter 20

  Cap-Hatien

  Fabi smiled as she eyeballed the computer program open on the monitor before her. It was the same one she had designed, and the familiar software made her feel more at home in her new work environment. Not that she felt uncomfortable or out of place so far—she had found the employees to be warm and welcoming, and it seemed like she would fit right in here. Not only that, but she shared an office with a co-worker with whom she got along well.

  Cassandra Damas was a city girl, born and raised in Port Au Prince, relocating to the Cap-Hatien area as an adult. Fabi judged her to be in her mid-thirties. The mahogany-skinned young woman sported a medium afro and favored big hoop earrings and statement necklaces. She had worked for this clinic of Dr. Avila’s for several years, and throughout the day so far had filled Fabi in on everything from office gossip to work procedures to where were the best places to go for lunch. Now, comfortable that they were on friendly terms, and as they both sat at computers fine-tuning the new database system, they were comparing notes when Dr. Avila appeared at the open doorway.

  “Good afternoon, ladies! Fabi, I trust you are finding your way around okay on your first day?”

  Fabi wheeled around on her chair and smiled at her boss. “You bet, Dr. Avila. Cassandra here’s been a tremendous help.”

  Avila beamed. “Excellent. Well, I don’t want to keep you two from your good work. Just wanted to check in and welcome you personally to our Cap-Hatien clinic, Fabi. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out to me. Carry on!”

  Avila left and she and Cassandra resumed discussing the work issue they had been focusing on before he showed up. Once they had worked through it, Fabi took advantage of a lull in the work to ask Cassandra about Avila. “Does he stop by a lot, or only on someone’s first day?”

 

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