by Liz Dodwell
Steady Phill. I had no idea what might be outside.
There was Hardie’s van. No sign of any other vehicle or of the two men. A short distance away was the skeleton of a long metal building with twisted shelves and wire grid fencing. All around, the land was open; just a few trees here and there. I stepped outside, throwing my blouse behind me. It was embedded with shards of glass; no way could I wear it again, which really pissed me off because it was a Tahari and the only decent one I had.
I made a dash for the van, yanked at the door and damned if it didn’t open. I scrambled in and locked the doors behind me, hoping against hope that the keys were in the ignition. They weren’t, but there was the next best thing –Hardie’s phone sitting on the console. Punching in Finn’s number and hearing his voice was one of the best things that had happened to me for a long time.
“I don’t know where I am.”
”It’s OK, we do.”
“We?”
“I’m with Detective Tanner. We’ve been tracking the cell phone signal.”
“Oh, good,” I mumbled and promptly keeled over and passed out.
NINE
Time Voyager was bobbing gently at her berth. Six people were seated throughout the galley: Luma and Alana Azevedo, Detective Dixie, Enos, Jafet and, of course, Finn. I was serving my newest cocktail creation, for which I’d borrowed the pirate Benito Bonito’s nickname, Bloody Sword. It was made with my own black pepper-infused vodka, celery salt, Worcestershire sauce, horseradish, pickle juice, olive juice, lemon juice and tomato juice. I rimmed the top of the glass with Old Bay seasoning and garnished with olives and a pickle slice. Oh, yeah, that’s what I like.
My memories of the previous day were fuzzy. Finn had quickly become alarmed when I didn’t appear and he couldn’t reach me on my phone. He checked with the Azevedos to see if I was with them. A word from Mrs. A. immediately had the hotel staff asking questions, and it didn’t take long to find a guest who’d noticed me and a one-armed man in the pool area. Of course, Finn realized it was Hardie so he called Dixie and urged her to put a trace on the man’s phone.
Apparently, my prison had been the slaughterhouse on an old chicken farm. No wonder it smelled so off. When my rescuers arrived they found me still out cold. I was shipped to the hospital where it was discovered I’d been dosed with sleeping pills. There’d be no long-term effects. If I hadn’t up-chucked, though, the doctor said I might have been in serious trouble. Hardie and his pal were picked up later at a Tampa hospital. After tying me up, Joeri Baanders, the pal, had taken a suffering Hardie to the emergency room and tried to convince the staff his smashed nose and bruised throat were the result of falling on his face.
Now Finn was about to explain to Alana and her mother what this was all about. He stood and cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him.
“You might think this story began just a few weeks ago, when the body of Tobin Obotien was found. In fact, it begins in 1968. Five men, Gilbert Stenger, Rodrick Hardie, Joeri Baanders, Rowan Payton and Cyril St. Martin went on a treasure hunt. Hardie, Baanders and Payton were experienced divers. St. Martin was a researcher and Stenger, the money man, a successful surgeon by profession.
“They were after the Treasure of Lima, a hoard of jewels, coins and artifacts worth upwards of $300 million in today’s currency. It was reputed the treasure had been stolen from a Peruvian catholic church in 1820 by a British ship’s captain and hidden on Cocos Island. Another story claimed the treasure had been in the possession of Benito Bonito, a pirate who brought the cache to Queenscliff, in south-eastern Australia.
“Cyril St. Martin’s research concurred with that, except he believed Bonito did not hide the treasure in a cave at Queenscliff. His evidence suggested Bonito’s ship wrecked with the treasure on board somewhere in the eastern part of the Bass Strait. So that’s where the five men headed.”
“Where exactly is the Bass Strait?” It was Enos asking.
“It runs from Melbourne to Tasmania, in south east Australia.”
Finn took a sip of his drink before picking up his narrative.
“They were searching the Strait when they got caught in a sudden, and vicious, squall that knocked out their power and drove them further east and on to a tiny granite island. At first, they counted themselves lucky – they were all alive. Soon it became evident they were in serious trouble. Their boat had disintegrated on impact and there had been very little to salvage. The island was pretty much uninhabitable; not much more than smooth steep rock where only an occasional sea bird landed. And the waters were heavily shark infested. Worst of all, apparently they were nowhere near any shipping lanes.
“There were a couple of small caves where they managed to find some shelter. When it rained, water would pool in rock basins. They used their clothing to try and slap birds from the air and catch fish, but without much success, and they had to eat them raw. After a few weeks, it was evident they were starving to death.
“They had a meeting to decide what to do. The idea was put forward that one of them sacrifice himself for the good of the others.”
“Oh, god.” Alana held her hand over her mouth and turned an ugly shade of gray.
“I don’t get it,” Jafet, this time. “You mean like a sacrifice to the gods, or something?”
“No,” Finn replied. “They were discussing cannibalism.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
“Let me go on,” Finn said.
“Instead, they decided to each forfeit an arm – their non-dominant arm. They would have a lottery of some sort to figure who would go first, but it was agreed that Stenger be last. He was the surgeon after all and would need both hands to wield the only knife they had between them.
“Rodrick Hardie was the first to lose his arm. When the flesh was offered to Cyril St. Martin, he went completely crazy. He threw himself into the water and began to swim. He didn’t make it very far before the sharks got him.
“Payton and Baanders both had their limbs removed, though Payton’s wound became infected, and within a few days he was dead. That left only Stenger. Luckily for him, it was at that time they were discovered by a couple who had gone off course in their sailboat. They were able to radio for help and Stenger and the two others were saved.”
Detective Dixie leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “You should all know that this information has been corroborated by Joeri Baanders. Rodrick Hardie is still under sedation at hospital. However, there’s no reason to believe he won’t confess.”
“How did you figure it out, Captain?” Luma Azevedo asked.
“Treasure hunters are a small fraternity and I’ve heard pretty much every story there is out there.”
“And Finn remembers everything,” I put in.
“Most things,” he corrected. “So when Alana told me about the one-armed man at the restaurant, and I considered his and Obotien’s ages, I remembered hearing about the treasure hunters who were found with their arms cut off. That’s why I asked Alana if her grandfather was right or left-handed. When she said left-handed I was pretty sure I was on track, because Obotien had his non-dominant arm cut off.
“Then I had Phill do some research and she found a newspaper article about the men, which listed their names. From there, it didn’t take much to confirm that the man at the restaurant was Rodrick Hardie and it was a pretty fair guess that Tobin Obotien was, in fact, Gilbert Stenger. Now here’s where some speculation comes in.
“I believe Stenger found the treasure, or part of it at least, on that barren island. Detective Tanner has people searching to see if there’s any evidence Stenger went back to the island and I’m sure, in time, they will find something.”
Here Dixie jumped in again. “We do know that Stenger disappeared soon after. It was thought he might have committed suicide but no body was ever found.”
“So my father was a doctor,” Luma Azevedo murmured almost to herself. More stridently she said, “You’re saying he cheated those other men; kept the t
reasure to himself, and I was raised on money that was stolen from the church?”
“That’s about it,” Finn said. “And in case you haven’t figured it out, the name Tobin Obotien is an anagram of Benito Bonito.”
“I’ll be damned,” Enos shook his head. Beside her mother, Alana quietly cried.
“To continue.” Finn cast his eye over the group and waited for them to settle back down.
“That brings us to the present day. Hardie and Obotien must have recognized each other at the restaurant. Although Obotien tried to cover his tracks to the Ritz, it’s apparent that Hardie found him there. He must then have called Joeri Baanders. Australian by birth, Baanders moved to the US soon after the terrible incident. Maybe he planned to search for Stenger. At any rate, he now lives in Cape Coral, Florida and must have responded to Hardie’s plea immediately.
“Detective Tanner and I believe that Hardie and Baanders coerced Obotien to leave his room by making threats against Alana. The front desk confirmed that a call was put through to the room and answered by Obotien.”
Alana looked up quickly. “There was a call. Grandfather said it was confirming our wake-up call for the morning. Oh, God. This is all my fault. If I’d agreed to leave when he wanted to, he’d still be alive today.”
Her mother wrapped her arms around her and for the first time looked helpless.
“Alana,” Finn’s voice was gentle, “once the others knew your grandfather was alive, they would never have stopped looking for him. You, your family, and who knows how many others might have been hurt.”
“Like Phill,” Alana said. “I am so, so sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I stressed and Enos added, “Yeah, what was that all about?”
“Most likely, Hardie was staking out the Ritz planning to kidnap Alana and hold her for ransom. We think,” he looked over at Dixie, “taking Phill was a crime of opportunity. Alana had been holed up in her room or was always with her mother. Remember, it’s not easy for an 80-year-old handicapped man to kidnap someone.”
“Hey,” I couldn’t let that go unchallenged. “He was an 80-year-old handicapped guy with a gun.”
“I thought revenge was the motive here?” Jafet looked puzzled.
“The taste for revenge had more than four decades to fester. What’s more, both men struggled financially all that time. Baanders wife refused to come to the US with him and he’s had no contact with either of his two kids since then. Hardie never had children but stayed married to Elise. Now she’s in a nursing home, which they can’t afford. Obotien ruined their lives. It took a lot of hatred to do what they did.”
We all fell silent. Mrs. Azevedo rose to her feet. “Captain, you did exactly what was asked of you. However much I wish the truth were different, I do thank you. Right now, I need to concentrate on my daughter.” Her words dried up and it was obvious she was struggling to hold herself together.
No-one commented. None of us knew what to say, but Finn and Enos help Alana to her feet then escorted mother and daughter to the limo they had waiting for them. When they returned, Jafet asked, “Where did they kill him?”
Dixie answered. “Possibly at the old barn where Hardie took Phill. There’s no blood evidence at his home and we still haven’t found the boat they must have used.”
“Do you think they sedated him first?”
“No!” Finn was emphatic. “I think they wanted him to suffer as much, or more, than they did.”
With that, we all sat gloomily for a while and soon the guys drifted away, then Dixie got up.
“I’d better go. I have reports still to finish.”
“OK, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Finn said. “Pick you up about seven?”
“Perfect,” she smiled. Then left.
“Where are you going so early?” I hated not knowing everything that was going on.
“I’m not going anywhere in the morning. I’m taking Dixie to dinner in the evening.”
“Oh.” There was nothing more to say.
TEN
The next morning the skies were looking bleak again. Finn made an executive decision that our treasure hunting in the Gulf was on hold ‘til hurricane season passed. The forecast was not good this year.
We’d hopscotch Time Voyager back to the Keys, keeping close to shore and keeping a sharp eye on the weather. Once back home, we’d concentrate on fund-raising and shows. All of which was fine by me. I liked Sarasota a lot, but it wasn’t home.
So the day was spent prepping for departure – all being well weatherwise - though Finn did receive a phone call from Mrs. Azevedo. She hoped he would understand, but she wanted to get her daughter back home to Brazil. Alana would likely need months, if not years, of therapy to get over the trauma. Of course, Finn understood.
Mrs. Azevedo went on to say that Alana had declared she wanted none of the money her grandfather had left her – she was his sole beneficiary - her instincts were that it should be distributed to the families of the four men who’d been on the treasure hunt with him. Luma Azevedo believed the monies might have to go back to the Catholic Church, assuming it was proved they came from there in the first place.
“It’s a lot to think about,” she’d sighed.
A very generous amount of funds were to be wired to Finn’s account in payment for his services, for which we both gave thanks.
Early in the evening I sat watching TV with Shrimp on my lap. An Affair to Remember was playing. You know, the movie with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. I love that movie; probably seen it twenty times but still I always cry, so I was well-prepared with tissues and popcorn.
Finn appeared, spruced up for his date with Dixie in tan slacks and one of his signature Hawaiian shirts.
“My, you look tastier than peach pie and ice cream.”
I swear he actually blushed a little so I decided to take it easy on him.
“Tell Dixie I said ‘Hi,’ and go have a good time.”
And Finn said, “Alrighty, then.”
ELEVEN
Six months later.
The plane landed with a gentle double bounce. I’d never flown first-class before but it had taken me all of five minutes to decide it was definitely the way to go, especially when the journey took 24 hours. We’d taken Quantas from Miami, with a stopover at Los Angeles and then on to Melbourne – Australia, that is – courtesy of Luma Azevedo.
She had arranged everything. A car was at the airport to meet us and we were driven in regal style to the Queenscliff Hotel, an absolutely marvelous old Victorian establishment that, at first glance, made me think of an overly ornate wedding cake. Here, we were to spend a couple of days, resting after the long journey and finalizing our plans.
When Mrs. Azevedo had contacted Finn about this expedition it had taken him a little time to agree to it. She wanted, she said, definitive proof that the Treasure of Lima had been on the rock island where her father had been stranded. Reasonably Finn had explained that such proof may not exist, but if she was willing to deal with potential disappointment, he was willing to take on the challenge.
The treasure hunting side of the arrangements had been left to Finn, with a seemingly unlimited budget. He had decided the best way to reach our final destination would be via Flinders Island, a ruggedly beautiful place with a rather dark history and a lot of shipwrecks. We would fly to Flinders where a boat and an experienced team of divers were at our service. The rock island’s coordinates were known. They’d been well-documented when Obotien and his fellow survivors had been rescued but it would still take us upwards of eight hours to get there from Flinders.
Once we reached the rocky outcrop, Finn and three of the crew took the inflatable over. They wandered the island, which took them all of a few minutes, and found nothing. Back in the inflatable they very slowly went around the rock, poking below the waterline for evidence of a submerged cave. And they found one. Finn and two of the guys donned their gear and slipped over the side. Finn was going to explore the cave, the other men were c
arrying electrical devices to repel any possible shark attacks. They’d been lectured by Finn, however, that they were only to be used if there was imminent danger.
I was a bundle of nerves while Finn was out of sight. I spotted a couple of sharks near the surface, so I knew there would be more around, and I wasn’t nearly as sure as he was that sharks aren’t particularly interested in us. I mean, they attacked the one treasure hunter who tried to swim from here.
When I saw all three men reappear I was hugely relieved. They continued around the whole island but found nothing else.
“Well?” I queried Finn when he was back on board. He merely shook his head.
“Mrs Azevedo will be disappointed,” I said.
“Maybe not.”
Now what did he mean by that?
We were back at the Queenscliff Hotel for a night. Our flight was due to leave the next day and we were making the most of beer-battered King George whiting and chips in a corner of the Boat Bar. It was especially delicious with a glass of local brew.
I popped a morsel in my mouth. “Shrimp would love this fish.”
“I’m sure she’s been very well fed.”
Time Voyager was at Stock Island in the Florida Keys and Shrimp was being watched over by the neighboring shrimpers.
“As much as I could get used to this life, I miss Shrimp, and nothing quite beats living aboard Time Voyager. I just wish we had some good news for Luma and Alena.”
“Who said we don’t?”
Frowning I looked suspiciously at Finn. “Give.”
With exaggerated care he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small pouch. “Don’t let anyone see it,” he said.
