by M Murphy
“I’m here to talk, as long as the two of you don’t do anything stupid.”
“About what?”
“Confederate treasure, Mr. Francis.”
Chapter 33
The man before me was a bit disheveled and unkempt. His hair was long and stringy, tucked back and underneath a Confederate cap. He wore a white shirt marked with dirt stains and infantry gray pants with a scuffed and worn pair of boots. The only thing about him that was perfect was the blade in his hand.
The intruder smiled at me before he spoke again, revealing the yellow teeth of a smoker or coffee drinker. “I believe the two of you have something I’ve been searching for.” He said.
“I’m not sure what you mean, and who the hell are you?” I asked a little less calm than before.
“Elliott Tidwell, descendent of Edward Tidwell, loyal servant of the Confederacy. Now that we know each other…where is that letter?”
“Locked up in my office?” Hannah finally spoke.
“I’ve already searched there. You are lying?”
“No, I’m not. I figured since my office had already been broken into that it was now a safe place.”
Hannah had the letter on her, she always did, but her tactics were good.
“What’s your need for that letter?” I asked Tidwell.
“Oh, nothing more than restoring my family’s name and ruining the family that ruined mine.”
“Revenge is a powerful motivator, but it still doesn’t answer what part that letter plays.”
Tidwell sneered at me for a moment. “The letter is the key that leads to the lost Confederate treasure, and its proof that the Trenholm’s stole it from its rightful owners.”
“Who are the rightful owners? Wouldn’t the treasure belong to the Federal Government now?”
The sneer on Tidwell’s face grew at the mention of the US Government. “The treasure belongs to the Knights of the Golden Circle, who were charged to protect it for the Southern people until the time when they could once again break free of the iron grip this country has on them.”
I saw a light turn on somewhere inside of Hannah, but I was just as clueless as before. “The Knights of the Golden Circle?”
“Are none of your business, Yankee.” The man nearly screamed at me.
“How did the Trenholm’s bring ruin to your family?” Hannah spoke up.
“George Trenholm was Secretary of the Treasury for the Confederacy. When Richmond was evacuated he was charged with bringing the Confederate gold out of Richmond and to South
Carolina, where it could be transported to safety in England. Trenholm marched south with President Davis and then broke off
when they reached the South Carolina backcountry. Half of the treasure was to be loaded onto blockade runners somewhere south of Charleston and the other half north of the city. Edward Tidwell was put in charge of the delivering the half of the treasure that was heading north of the city. The plan was for him and a group of his men to meet up with Trenholm’s party near Elliott, South Carolina, where they would split the gold. Trenholm would take half and continue South towards Charleston and my ancestor would take his half to a location along the Santee. When they arrived at Eldorado Plantation and prepared to load the gold onto flatboats it was discovered that the treasure had been replaced with brick covered in straw.”
“Wait, they took the gold to a place called Eldorado Plantation. Was that on purpose.” I had to ask.
“Shut up you fool. The plantation had already been attacked by a Union gunboat on the river, and like your professor friend it was thought that since the Union troops had already been there they would not be returning anytime soon.”
“What happened to all the gold then?” I asked.
“Edward Tidwell and his men were accused of stealing it, loading bricks in its stead in hopes that nothing would be revealed until the ship made its way to England. They were relieved of their duties, banished from the KGC, and my family name became synonymous with treason in the South. But Edward Tidwell was played a fool by Trenholm and my family has suffered for that man’s greed.”
“Why do you believe Trenholm stole the treasure?” Hannah asked.
“Because he was the only other person with access. My family did not take that gold. Our miserable life since the war should bear witness to our innocence, while the Trenholms have grown rich and prosperous.”
“But they were already wealthy.”
“That may be true, but Fraser, Trenholm, and Company were going to take a massive financial hit from the debts owed to it from the Confederacy, which would never be paid, and from the Union for treason. The gold in the Confederate Treasury would not only keep them afloat, but allow them to grow.”
It made since, and it wasn’t the first time the scenario had been up for discussion. “Why do you want the letter then? Wouldn’t the treasure be long gone and spent by now?” I asked knowing our time for talk was running short.
“The map will lead to where the treasure was hidden whether there is anything left or not is none of my concern. The gold belonged to the Southern people, not my family. The map is a connection to prove that the Trenholms took the gold and hid it after the war. The letter will lead me to the spot, and that spot will be somewhere with a strong connection to George Trenholm.”
“You know that for sure?”
“Enough of your questions.” The man moved closer to Hannah and I with his sword. “I want the letter.”
“Alright,” Hannah said, “enough talk. My keys are in my purse. I’ll need them to get into my office.” She pointed to her purse sitting on a desk behind Tidwell.
The man had a desicion to make. He couldn’t keep us both covered with only a sword if he had to turn to grab the keys, or allow Hannah to get them. He would have to make a decision and when Tidwell made his choice, I would make my move.
Chapter 34
Hannah took a step towards her purse, moving slowly at first. Tidwell didn’t budge and appeared to be allowing her to grab her keys. Right before she reached the desk, Tidwell reached out, grabbed Hannah by the arm, and pulled her close to him. With one arm around her chest and the other holding the sword blade up to her neck, the man smiled at me. His yellowed teeth glared at me and I wanted to punch them out.
“Don’t move an inch Mr. Francis.” He slowly backed up towards the desk while still facing me. He glanced back slightly when he came within inches of the wooden antique. “Now, reach for your purse.” He said to Hannah, moving just enough for her to reach back and grab it.
“Take the purse and leave. There is no need to get violent.” I said to Tidwell.
“No, there isn’t, unless you do something stupid. Why would I let her go? All you two would do is call the police and have them waiting for me at her office.”
Tidwell inched closer with Hannah towards the door and the stairwell that led down to the driveway. I knew it would be tricky for him to navigate the stairs with Hannah, and I hoped to have the opportunity to disrupt the situation.
With a sneer still on his face, Tidwell sidestepped closer and closer to the door. Finally, using the hand holding Hannah by the chest he reached behind him and opened the door to the stairwell. It took him a couple tries to blindly find the door knob
before he was able to grab ahold and swing the door open, leaving an open stairwell behind him.
Suddenly, before he could return his arm to its position around Hannah’s chest, she brought her foot up and slammed it down hard against the man’s shin. Tidwell lit out a yell and loosened the sword’s position from Hannah’s neck. Hannah dropped to her knees, as I charged forward. The pain in his leg and seeing me attacking caused a limped Tidwell to flinch. He lost his balance and struggled to regain it before his momentum finally propelled him down the stairs behind him.
The sound of him falling, body on wood and the steel sword blade on the plaster walls made a loud racket that echoed back up the stairs. When it was over, Tidwell laid at the bottom motionless
on the brick pathway.
I waited a second, gave Hannah a looked that asked if she was all right, and then started slowly down the steps towards the man. I made it to the last few steps when the man jumped up with a yell, brandishing the sword and swinging it in front of my face. As unexpectedly as he started, he stopped. Tidwell simply stared at me, burning rage building in his eyes and teeth grinding with hate. I prepared for him to attack, waiting for the sword to come at me again, but instead he turned and ran down the driveway into the darkness of the night.
Standing there motionless, I watched the spot in the darkness where the strange man had disappeared, expecting him to return. I felt Hannah approach from behind me, putting her arms around my waist and her chin on my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I’m fine, heartbeat is finally settling down. Now come on back upstairs…fear turns me on.” Out of the corner of my eye I could see a smile and I knew she wasn’t kidding.
Chapter 35
I woke up the next morning with Hannah next to me on her laptop drinking coffee. I could see her purse on the table next to the bed and had a quick flashback of the night before.
“You’re up early.”
“You slept late. There’s fresh coffee if you want some.” She said not looking away from the computer screen.
“What are you doing?”
Hannah ignored me for a second as she concentrated, reading something intently. “There is a professor I work with at Columbia. An older gentleman, who doesn’t teach much anymore.”
“Emeritus status?” I asked.
“Something like that. Anyways, he did a study on the Knights of the Golden Circle or the KGC back in the seventies. I’m looking for his paper in the university files.”
“I’ll let you get to it.” I said getting out of bed and heading for the coffee.
After a few minutes on the porch and a wave to Mrs. Legare working on her flowers, I returned to the bedroom with my coffee to find Hannah getting off of her cell phone.
“My office was broken into last night again.” She said.
“I’m not surprised.”
“Neither am I, but the school’s starting to get a little upset about it. They don’t like the added attention, especially because it’s from a visiting professor.”
“Any luck finding that paper?”
“Yeah, I found it right before the phone rang.”
Hannah went right back to reading as I settled into bed and turned the flat screen on to ESPN. Baseball season was in its infancy and I was excited about the prospects for my Indians. We sat there without a word for almost forty-five minutes and two cups of coffee before Hannah spoke again.
“Well, that explains the hooked x and the carving on the tree.” She said.
“Do you mind explaining it all to me?”
“It appears that the KGC was founded in either Cincinnati or Lexington Kentucky around 1854 by General George Bickley. The idea behind the organization, with the support of a lot of Northern sympathizers, was to create a nation from the Southern States, Mexico, Latin America, and the Caribbean with Havana at its center. The idea was to form a golden circle around these territories, reinforce their slave status, and create a monopoly on the sugar, cotton, and tobacco producing regions. However, these initial plans were aborted
around 1860 to focus on the coming civil war in the States.” Hannah began.
She started skimming her computer again and I waited patiently for several minutes.
“There is a lot of myth surrounding the group, and separating fact from fiction seems to be impossible.” She started up again. “But it appears that the society gained popularity and support during the war, both in the North and the South. The military wing of the organization is said to be the foundation of the Ku Klux Klan, and there is even mention of Jesse James and John Wilkes Booth being members.”
“That would explain the date on the letter.”
“Maybe. Where it really gets interesting and relevant to us is after the war. Apparently, the organization was collecting mass quantities of wealth to support a future war for independence and established an intricate system of codes to hide their treasures. Even more relevant is the connection of prominent Southern Masons to the organization, which would explain the hooked x. If the KGC borrowed from their Mason brethren it would make sense, and the J.A.M. on the letter and on the tree at St. Phillip’s would have to be some sort of code used to designate an area or where the next clue lies.”
“I’ve got questions.”
“I’m sure you do.” Hannah said with a smile, finally looking up from her laptop.
“First, how do we decipher the codes?”
“Professor Avery, in his work, describes how the codes worked in some detail.”
“Okay, then my next question is…if George Trenholm stole the Confederate gold, why did he use KGC codes to hide it?”
Hannah looked perplexed for a moment. “I don’t have an answer for that. Maybe he was a member and it was a system
he was familiar with. Maybe it’s a similar system with personal changes, or possible we are way off our mark.”
“One last question and it’s bothered me since last night. If Edward Tidwell was supposed to take half of the Confederate Treasury with him north of Charleston, what happened to the other half that George Trenholm was taking south of the city?”
“Now that is something I hadn’t thought of.” Hannah said.
Chapter 36
Hannah had left to teach a class and see how bad of a mess her office was in. I had showered and moved to the porch with my laptop, studying up on what I did not know about the KGC. I was watching a carriage pass and listening to the tour guide tell and exaggerated truth about the house across the street when my phone rang.
“Colin,” I answered, “how’s Cleveland?”
“Cloudy, cold, and rainy…beautiful as always.” His scruffy voice responded. “I’ve got something you might be interested in.”
“What’s that?”
“You were interested in a bookie by the name of Tommy Makem?”
“Yeah,” I answered, having nearly forgotten about the man with everything else going on. “Did you find something new?”
“Could be nothing, could be something, but I figured I would pass it along. I asked around and it seems that Tommy got into some trouble as a young man. He was working for a local
bookie from a westside neighborhood, learning the business, when he beat a man to death. Apparently, the man owed money and Tommy was determined to beat it out of him. Word is that he didn’t mean to kill him, but Tommy got carried away with his work.”
“Do I need to ask why there wasn’t an arrest file?”
“There was never an arrest because there were no witnesses. The man’s death was blamed on a mugging gone badly, and the rest is just neighborhood gossip.”
“Shocking.” I said sarcastically.
“After, Tommy left Cleveland, spent some time in Chicago with an uncle who paid for him to go to college, and finally chose to settle in Charleston for no apparent reason.”
“So Tommy’s a college educated bookie with street smarts…that’s a wicked combination.”
“And a possible history of violence.” Colin said.
“I’m not really surprised.” Men like Tommy usually had a history of violence, it came with the territory. “Thanks for the info Colin. How’s Katya doing?”
“She’s good. Been busy getting the restaurant ready for Indians’ season. Looks like we may have a team this year and the whole town is buzzing with excitement.”
“I’ve been trying to keep up, but it’s not the same as being there. There is nothing better than walking into a bar and the whole room is talking about one team. Down here there are no loyalties. The locals don’t have a team and everyone else comes from somewhere else…no sense of community support like there is back home.”
“Getting homesick?” Colin asked.
“A little. Maybe I’ll come back when the weather warms up for good.”
“We’ll be here waiting for you. Let me know if I can be of any more help to you.”
“Thanks Colin. Tell Katya I said hi.” I hung up the phone and thought about our conversation for a moment.
I had only been gone from Cleveland a couple months, but there was something about the start of a new baseball season that could always make you a little homesick. I also pondered what Colin had said about Tommy Makem. Neighborhood gossip was often stronger than any police report. It could have been a simple act of his youth, or the beginning of a pattern. Jason’s murder did resemble the incident that Colin had described Tommy being involved in back in his Cleveland days. Eliza Dunn’s murder was better orchestrated and involved planning, Jason’s didn’t have that same appearance. Maybe our first impressions were right and there was only one killer, but maybe we were wrong and now there were two killers running around Charleston.
