Captain Finn Treasure Mysteries: Books 1 - 3: Short Sea Stories of Murder and Shipwreck Treasure

by Liz Dodwell

  A little later, as Monks leaned over to pour wine for Ken, a gold chain fell from inside his open-necked pirate shirt. A bezeled gold coin hung from it.

  “That’s a gold eagle!” Ken stated. “There’s a story in my family that one of my ancestors found a cache of gold eagle coins on the island of Kauai, back in the mid-1800s.”

  Monks’ grabbed for the coin with his free hand as it swung back and forth. In doing so some of the wine was splashed across the table.

  “I’m terribly sorry, sir. Please pardon my clumsiness. I’ll clean this up immediately.”

  “There’s no harm,” Ken said. “The only thing that suffered was the table cloth.”

  “Really, sir, I do apologize.”

  “Monks,” Bert spoke up, “it’s fine. Just leave it.”

  Monks backed away, still apologizing.

  “Well that’s one for the books.” Bert spoke to no-one in particular. “I’ve never seen Monks get flustered before.”

  “Who cares about that? I want to know more about Ken’s treasure.” Dilly looked expectantly at Ken and all eyes followed her lead.

  “There’s little I know to tell. My family is Hawaiian, if you hadn’t already guessed, and the story is about the opium trade in 1846.

  “The schooner, Spec, transported opium from Singapore to Hawaii, where it was transferred to another vessel for shipment to San Francisco. The cargo was paid for in gold eagle coins, $100,000 worth, which were loaded on the Spec. The next day, she set sail but got caught in a storm and went down between the islands of Kauai and Niihau.”

  “Then how did your ancestor find the coins on the island?” Eli Shain couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice.

  “Ah,” Ken smiled slyly, “two crewmen survived, miraculously overcoming the gale force winds and strong currents that broke apart the Spec in 700 fathoms of water… so the story goes. But, as it was told to me, those two crewmen were never on board. Somehow, they smuggled the coins to shore before the Spec departed - or perhaps they never loaded them to begin with - and hid them on the island.”

  “Are you saying Monks’ coin is one of the gold eagles from the Spec?” Dilly’s eyes were wide.

  “Hardly likely. Gold eagles haven’t been in circulation for years but the US mint has produced a lot of commemorative coins more recently. Perhaps Captain Finn can tell us more?”

  “It’s not my area of expertise,” Finn said. “The little I know is that they were issued for circulation from the end of the 18th century to the early part of the 1900s. These days they’re produced for investment, but the newer coins’ value is pretty much the same as gold bullion.”

  “But what would a coin from the 1800s be worth today?” This time it was Eli asking the question.

  “In good condition, easily $5,000 for a $10 coin. There were also half and quarter eagles.”

  You could almost see Eli’s brain working. “Then 10,000 coins today would be worth fifty million dollars! That’s staggering.”

  Chatter about the lost treasures of the world saw us through chocolate mousse with black-sesame ginger ice-cream and fried frangipane with strawberry compote. Simply heavenly. Then Dilly announced a fifteen minute break before meeting in the great room to commence the game. Eli and Dodo went outside, whether to smoke or get some air I didn’t know. Most of the others hurried to the bathroom; I didn’t want to stand in line so I took the opportunity to browse through some of Bert’s antiquities. He had a particularly impressive collection of swords and knives featured throughout the great room. There was a beautifully crafted bone-handled knife with a bone sheath called a keris, a curved sword labeled as a katana, British bayonets, hand-crafted daggers, things I’d never heard of or seen before. I made a mental note to ask Bert about them later.

  As we began to reassemble, the door from the east patio was flung wide with a terrific gust of wind. Eli and Dodo came in, supporting the maid, Teresa, between them. She looked dazed and shaky. We all stopped what we were doing, hesitant, wondering if this was part of the game, ‘til Finn took charge.

  “Put her on the couch.” He took over from Dodo and gently he and Eli laid her down. “What happened?”

  “We were heading in,” Eli said, “when the kitchen door opened. Teresa must have been coming to check for dirty dishes, I guess, but the wind snatched at the door and just seemed to catch her and spin her around and throw her into the railing.”

  “I think she hit with her left shoulder,” Dodo added.

  Finn began to give instructions. “Eli, find Monks and have him bring an ice pack and a glass of water. The rest of you, give the girl some space.” He shot a meaningful look at me, which I interpreted as my cue to move everyone away.

  “Come on guys. Finn knows what he’s doing; he’s had medical training so let’s leave him to it.”

  “But what about the game?” Silly Dilly’s voice was a little whiney.

  “Let’s just give it a few minutes.” I used my perky voice to try and lighten the mood. “We can always start without Finn and he can catch up later. What do you all say?”

  There was a murmur of assent.

  The previous week we’d all had to tell Dilly what our pirate roles would be. Based on that, dossiers had been prepared describing the characters’ backgrounds, objectives and special abilities. These were now handed round. One of us had been chosen as the victim, though the rest of us didn’t know who it would be. When the “murder” was committed we could look for clues hidden around the house, and ask each other questions using information in the dossiers.

  Neither Finn nor I planned to make any real effort to discover “whodunit.” After all, we didn’t want to win our own prize, so while Dilly was dishing out instructions I let my eyes wander idly around. On the far side of the room, an argument got my attention. The Westgates had Ken Kinimaka cornered. Ralph was taller than Ken by a good six inches. He leaned over Ken, his right arm braced against the wall, while Leticia stood to his left. Effectively, they were blocking Ken’s movement. There was no way to hear their conversation and as I was wondering if I should interrupt, they broke apart. At the same time, Dilly gave the “go” for the game to begin. The excitement was infectious, and I dashed around with the rest of the group looking for the body.

  “Over here!” In less than a minute a shout from Dodo brought us all surging to the study where Barbarossa (Bert) lay on the floor with a “dagger” through his heart. Bert did a sterling job of keeping still while we poked and prodded him for clues. When everyone else went in a myriad of directions in search of solutions to the mystery, I stayed behind for a few moments.

  “OK, it’s safe.”

  Bert’s eyes opened. “Someone was touching me in places they had no business to be!”

  “Hah! I bet I can guess who that was.” Dilly. “When did you sneak in here anyway? I didn’t see you.”

  “As soon as I saw Teresa wasn’t badly hurt and the others were all still distracted, I slipped away. Where is Teresa now? I should go and check on her and relieve Finn.”

  “Not sure, but you might try the kitchen.”

  So Bert went to find Finn and I took advantage of the fact that no-one was now in the bathroom to relieve myself.

  A few minutes later I exited to see Finn coming across the great room towards me.

  “How’s Teresa?” I asked.

  “Bruised and shaken up, but nothing serious. She’s back in the kitchen. Now that Bert’s corpse gig is over, he said he’d keep an eye on her.”

  “I know, we talked for a couple of minutes. It’s a relief Teresa’s not seriously hurt. Let’s just hope there are no more accidents.”

  A loud thump outside caught our attention.

  “Sounds like the wind is really picking up out there,” I said. The whistling noise it made coming down the chimney reminded me of a nasty little boy at one of the many foster homes I’d stayed in, who used to say it was the banshee coming to take my soul away. I shivered. Time to change the subject.

&nb
sp; “Where’s the delicious Dilly?”

  “I never thought I’d say this, but you have to help get that woman away from me.”

  “What? A woman you can’t handle? Say it ain’t so!” I smirked.

  “You can laugh. She’s all over me like sauce on ribs – and the sauce isn’t tasty.”

  “Apparently the ribs are.”

  “Phill.” Finn’s look was becoming desperate. It was tempting to keep teasing him but I decided I’d take pity instead.

  “Where is she now?”

  “She followed me into the den. When I came out of the kitchen you were all splitting up to look for clues and I was hoping I could just hide out ‘til the game was over. I left her in there. I said I needed to hit the head and escaped.”

  “Well, fear no more, oh emasculated one, for I have the answer. You may go back into the lion’s den with your head held high. Just let Dilly know you’re broke.”

  “That’s it?”

  I nodded in the affirmative. “Hard to believe, but the woman is not enraptured of the famous Finn charm. She wants you because she thinks you have money.”

  “If I had, I’d pay her off. But why would she think I’m rich?”

  “Treasure hunter. Duh!”

  Realization began to dawn on his face.

  “Right,” I continued. “Silly Dilly thinks you get to keep everything you find. She doesn’t understand almost all waters are now claimed by some government or another who demand a huge share of any spoils. Or that you have to pay a bunch of lawyers to negotiate with those governments so they don’t take everything. Then the backers have to get paid and, after that, there’s damn little left to share amongst the divers, who are then liable for tax on their “earnings.”

  “So, go explain. Or even better,” I had a flash of inspiration, “ask her for money to back an expedition. That should take care of it.”

  “Alrighty, then.” Finn was looking much happier already.

  Suddenly we heard a shriek, and there was the maiden herself, flinging wide the glass doors from the west patio. “There’s another one! I found another body!”

  Around the great room doors opened and our fellow sleuths reappeared. Like herding animals we followed Dilly outside.

  It was Black Bart who lay gutted on the patio, his entrails spilling from his body in a pool of bright red blood.

  “That’s sooo realistic,” I heard Anne Bonny say behind me.

  It was realistic. Too much so. Then I smelled it; that faint sweet, sickly smell, and there was a slight metallic taste on my tongue.

  This wasn’t a game anymore. I looked at Black Bart’s ruptured body. Shit, he really was dead.

  THREE

  Once again, Finn took charge. “Everybody except Phill and Monks, back into the great room! Now! And nobody leave!”

  Hesitantly they began to back away. Whether in shock or mesmerized by the gruesome sight, I couldn’t tell. Then Finn yelled “Now” again and it seemed to jolt everyone awake and they obediently shuffled away.

  Finn turned to Monks. “The police need to be notified immediately, but this weather is getting heavy and we’re about to get a whole lot of rain. We’ll never be able to preserve the crime scene ‘til the cops arrive. We’ll have to move the body inside. Can you arrange something?”

  Monks merely nodded and moved quickly away, though still maintaining a stately air.

  “Phill, do you have your cell phone with you?”

  “Always.” I pulled it from my voluminous skirt.

  “Take pictures; as many as you can, from every conceivable angle. Those swells out there,” he lifted his chin at the roiling waters, “are only going to get worse. I doubt the police will risk a crossing until the storm passes. Oh, and make sure you get close-ups of that sword. It’s no costume piece.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s a katana. And it’s mine.”

  Both of us looked round to see Bert standing there. He was obviously pretty shaken but holding it together. “It was hanging on the wall in the great room. I didn’t notice it was missing.” Then he abruptly changed the subject.

  “I have several cameras you could use.” He spoke directly to me. “You’ll get much better pictures with them.”

  “I’m strictly a point and shoot photographer. No skills beyond that.”

  “No problem. I’ll help. And Monks will be bringing a tarp so we can move K… er, the body.” Bert swallowed hard.

  While he and Monks were gone, Finn took a close look at Ken’s body. It was on its back with arms flung out to the sides. One leg was bent out at the knee, the other lay straight. The wind was catching at the torn clothing so the wound was completely exposed, with the sword angled in the stomach. I peered over Finn’s shoulder and grimaced. “That’s a really gruesome cut.”

  “He’s also cut across his fingers on the inside of his left hand.”

  “Defensive wound maybe?”

  “Maybe.” If Finn had any thoughts, he was keeping them to himself.

  At that moment Bert returned with a camera. He handed it over to me. “Let’s do this.”

  I looked at his white face. “It doesn’t need both of us to take pictures. Why don’t you join Finn and look around to see if you spot anything out of place.”

  He looked instantly relieved, and I stepped gingerly around the body, avoiding the blood pool, and began snapping.

  As soon as Monks reappeared, Finn gave terse directions. “Lay the tarp out. Bert, you and I will hold it down while Monks and Phill lift the body onto it, then we’ll each take a corner and carry it like a stretcher. Monks, where are we going?”

  “To the den, sir. I’ve locked the patio doors to the great room from the deck, and left young Mr. Shain guarding the door from the great room to the den. I must tell you, sir, the natives are getting restless. Mr. Westlake is being particularly vocal about his civil rights.”

  I rolled my eyes. Finn gave a quick shake of his head then commanded us to lift the corpse-laden tarp on a count of three. With reasonable precision we frog-marched along the patio to the den while the raindrops fattened and began to fall faster. We made it through the doors just before Mother Nature hissed her fury down upon us, and lay the body gently on the floor. Bert slid the doors shut and we stood, mutely, gazing at the gored remains, which less than an hour before had been an animated and engaging man.

  Of course, Finn was the first to break the mood. “Monks, did you get through to the police?”

  “Indeed, sir. I reported the incident immediately and am awaiting a call back with instructions.”

  “Then there’s nothing more we can do right now except seal off the room and let the others know what’s going on.”

  The patio doors were locked and Monks pulled the heavy drapes across. There was a key in the other door; Finn took it and ushered us into the great room before turning the key in the lock and handing it to me. “Put it somewhere safe.” So I stuffed it in my bra. Just let someone try and take it!

  An instant later the room erupted into a caterwauling of complaints from those present, and demands to know what was going on.

  Ralph Westgate took the lead. “What’s the meaning of keeping us all in here? Where are the police? We’re being treated like criminals and I insist you tell us what’s happened.”

  Murmurs of agreement came from the others, their faces a mix of anger and concern.

  Finn held up his hands to silence everyone and waited out their mutterings before he spoke.

  “As you must know by now, Black Bart is dead. Or I should say, Ken Kinimaka. I ask you to be calm. This has been a shock to all of us, but please keep in mind that Dodo Kinimaka has had the most awful news of all and have consideration for her.”

  Dodo was curled in an armchair and exhibited no sign of having recognized her name. In her baggy pirate costume she looked like a small turtle that hadn’t grown into its shell. The pallor of shock was painted over her face and owlish eyes were dull and unfocused. Wayne Gregory crouched beside her, hi
s tender expression belying a casual acquaintance. Or was I just imagining things?

  “Where are the police?” Ralph again, and becoming more belligerent. Leticia clutched at his arm and tried to shush him but he shook her off and glowered at Finn. His loose-limbed frame was now taut and his hands had curled into fists at the end of long ape-like arms. Beside me I sensed Bert and Monks tense in anticipation of trouble with the booze-sozzled Calico Jack, but I had more faith in Finn, who didn’t miss a beat.

  “Ralph, the police have been notified but I suspect they will be unable to get here until the storm wears itself out. So we need to rely on someone steady and sensible like you to help keep order ‘til they make it.” That’s it. Appeal to his vanity.

  Ralph’s ire immediately deflated and he took on the mantle of authority as one destined for it. Leticia threw a grateful glance at Finn who acknowledged it with the faintest lift at the corner of his mouth.

  “Are you saying we have no current contact with the police? Because some of us have been trying our cell phones and we can’t get a signal.” Heads nodded as Eli asked his question.

  “If I may…?” Monks raised his eyebrows at Finn who nodded. “Our private Mud Bug satellite system has a powerful booster and we are able to communicate with the authorities on the mainland.”

  As if to prove a point, a clapper bell began to ring loudly followed by a guttural voice repeating “Answer ye phone, yer scallywag. Answer ye phone.”

  Everyone looked a little taken aback and there were a few muted chuckles, while Monks reached into one of the holsters hanging from his costume belt and pulled out a phone.

  “Good evening, you’ve reached Mud Bug Island; Monks speaking…Yes, detective…Yes, detective…He’s right here, please hold for a moment.”

  “Detective Cardero,” Monks held the phone out to Finn, “has expressed a desire to speak with you, Captain.”

  “Hello…yes, Detective Cardero, this is Rex Finsmer…. Yes, I do remember you… He’s Ken Kinimaka, retired professor…”