Confederate Gold and Silver (62 page)

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Authors: Peter F. Warren

BOOK: Confederate Gold and Silver
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Walking along Ann Street to one of the Visitor Center kiosks, Jayne asked Paul a question similar to the one Chick had posed last night. “Once we locate the cannons we still have to find a way to retrieve the gold and silver from them. Have you figured that out yet?”

“I’ve got some of the details worked out in my head, but not all of them. I think I’m going to have the mayor of this fine city do some of the dirty work for us.”

Jayne laughed at his answer, at first thinking he was joking with her. Looking at his face as they continued to walk along on the sidewalk, she quickly realized he had not been joking with her. “The mayor? He’s going to think we are nuts when we tell him what we want to do. Why would he want to help us?”

“I don’t believe he is going to think we are nuts at all. I have no doubts at all that he is going to help us. In fact, I know he is going to help us, seeing we are going to indirectly help him with his upcoming campaign for the vacant United States senate seat he is seeking.”

Paul’s comment caused Chick and Jayne to stop dead in their tracks as they turned onto Ann Street. “We’re going to help him with what?” The incredulous look from Chick made Paul laugh as he knew neither of them could possibly have known what angle he had lined up in his head. But then they had not read the story in the newspaper. It was a story he knew would soon help them get the cannons opened so they could get to the gold and silver hidden within them.

“Listen, do you think Mayor William Davis wants to be remembered as the mayor who cancelled the Civil War’s 150
th
Anniversary Celebration in the city where it all started? Personally, I don’t think he wants to be remembered this way. Cancelling the celebration means too much to the hotels, to the restaurants, and to all of the other businesses who make their living off the tourist dollars spent here in Charleston. The Civil War is still a big historical event to people across the South and the negative political exposure in cancelling such an event is far too great for a senatorial candidate to expose himself to. The fact that Charleston, like many other municipalities across the country, is facing budget problems does not matter. People will equate the cancellation of the anniversary celebration to him and their disappointment in the celebration being cancelled will be remembered at election time. The mayor will not want to incur their wrath at the polls, so he will help us. He just doesn’t know it yet, but when we present it to him this way he will help us. He may think in his own way that we are nuts, but all politicians like money and votes. When he hears we are going to give him the money Charleston needs to pay for the anniversary celebration, he’s going to very quickly see the positive side of helping us get the cannons opened. Opening those cannons for us is going to be a huge help for his political campaign. It’s a simple math formula if you think really about it. His help plus the money Charleston gets from us equals votes.”

Chick, who had stared at Paul as he listened to what he had planned for the mayor, continued to stare at him even after he had finished talking. “You know, you scare me.”

“I what? How do I do that?” Paul could not help but smile at what Chick had just said to him.

“Yesterday, without anything to help you except a casual remark your wife made about the markings she saw on a cannon, you quickly figured out the clues regarding the cannons. You figured out what the inscriptions left on the cannons meant and all of that. You made all of those connections in a very short period of time. Then this morning, in about twenty minutes tops, after reading a simple newspaper article, you calculated a way to get the mayor of Charleston to help us so it would benefit his future political career. Last night I was struggling to keep up with you when you showed us the markings on the cannons and when you were telling us what they all meant. Hell, I was even struggling to figure out what I wanted for breakfast in the restaurant this morning. Now you have the rest of the details pretty much worked out to make this work to our advantage. You know, I consider myself to be an educated man and a pretty intelligent one as well, but your brain definitely works differently than mine does. I do wish I had your reasoning skills. That, my friend, is how you scare me.”

Giggling to herself at first and then unable to hold it any longer, Jayne burst out laughing. Her laughter drew smiles from those who walked by on the sidewalk. “Paul, you know Chick’s right. He and I have talked about this since we were digging back in North Carolina. You seem to have a special talent at seeing through the fog which surrounds all of these clues you have uncovered. It’s almost like you know what the important details are and which ones are the superfluous ones. I want to know how you do it.”

“Don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t know I was doing anything different than what you two were doing. Maybe being a state cop for all of those years makes me look at things differently. Who knows?”

“Maybe.”

They soon got back on track and walked the short distance to a nearby tourist kiosk. There Paul obtained three colored maps of the city, the same ones tourists often use when they want to find the various Civil War sites, museums, restaurants and shops which are spread out across Charleston. They were fortunate enough to have obtained the maps from a longtime resident of the city. She was able to tell them of a few other locations to check for cannons which had been put on display. “Seems everywhere you go in Charleston we have cannons. Tourists like you folks love them. Hope you find the right one to have your picture taken next to.”

Sitting down on a bench at one of the city’s bus stops, Paul pulled a blue Sharpie pen from his pants pocket and dissected each of the maps into three fairly equal sections. He did so by drawing blue lines across the maps. “Chick, you take this piece of the pie, the piece up around Park Circle and south as far as Cosgrove Avenue; Jayne you take the middle piece, the piece which starts with Cosgrove as the northern most point and go south as far as where Hampton Park is on the west side of the city and as far east where Highway 17 enters the city. I’ll take the last piece, from where Jayne stops here at Hampton Park and I will finish down by the harbor. Call me when you find something and I’ll keep a running tally on what we find. I’ll call you both later and we will meet somewhere for a late lunch or whatever.”

Walking the short distance back down Meeting Street, Paul decided he would start back at the park where Donna and he had located the three cannons the previous day. He wanted to start there so he could make sure in his excitement from the previous day he had not missed any other cannons in the area. Walking through the park, he could not help but notice the tourists who were having their pictures taken next to the three cannons. The very same cannons inscribed with the markings Donna had accidently found for him. A large church group held up a small sign identifying their church as they stood next to the cannon inscribed with the number sixteen. The church group was all smiles as their pastor took several photos of them surrounding the cannon. Nearby, the cannon marked with the number ten was patiently letting three young children sit on it as their father took digital pictures to document their visit to Charleston. Filling in the sheet of paper he was working with to log the locations of the cannons they had found, he could not help but smile at the sight of the cannons being used as props in the tourist’s pictures. “If only they knew how much money they were standing next to. They all would be amazed.”

Paul soon left the park after finding he had not missed any other cannons the previous day. Now he started to search his section on the map for any others. He walked around for almost two hours trying to find any types of cannons, but found none. As he walked, he took a moment to stop at a neighborhood deli on Queen Street to use the bathroom and to buy a bottle of water to quench his thirst. Taking his first sip of water, his cell phone announced an incoming call from Chick.

“Chick, talk to me!”

“I found two, one good and one bad. I found one marked with the number eighteen and one marked with the number three.” Chick described the locations where he had found them. They were in a small park near the east side of the city, just off of Oakwood Avenue.

“Nice work, but listen. I know we talked about telling me where you find them, but now that I have thought about it, don’t do that. Just tell me the numbers you find on them. I know what it is you are after. I don’t mean to sound paranoid, but you never know who might be listening. Let’s not tip our hands to someone who might be. And one more thing, just keep some rough notes on where you find them. Later in the day we will compare our notes with each other. From now on just call me with the numbers you find.”

“OK, I’ve got you. Good idea.”

“Chick, number three is not a bad one. The way I look at it, it’s one we wanted to find no matter what. Now we only need to find seven more. Any number is a good number for us, but I know what you meant when you said a bad one.”

“Understand. Hey, did you hear from Jayne yet?”

“Nope, not yet. Keep hunting and I’ll talk to you soon. Hey, nice find with those two. Good job!”

For the next forty-five minutes, Paul scoured several places on his section of the map. He had just finished checking two nearby city parks for the still to be found cannons when he found cannons number seven and twelve by pure accident. He noticed them as he was walking to another nearby park. The two cannons stood guard at the entrance to a small private cemetery located near the intersection of Broad and Logan Streets. It was obvious they had been there for many years. The cemetery was one which had been neglected for far too long as it was easy to see the grounds had not been cared for recently. Throwing a couple of dead tree branches out of the way made it possible for him to read the inscriptions on the barrels of the two Napoleon style cannons. After logging the cannons on his form, he walked a short distance into the cemetery to survey the neglect it had received. “I guess either this place has fallen victim to budget cuts or else no one buried here is important enough to have someone care for its upkeep.” In the brief time he spent in the cemetery, he saw several headstones marking the graves of men and women who had served the United States in several different wars. “I’ll make sure we take care of this problem real soon.”

As excited as Chick had been when he called with the news of the cannons he had found, Paul found himself just as excited when he phoned Chick and Jayne with the news of the two cannons he had found. “We are down to five we have to find. We are doing fabulous so far.”

As Paul gave Jayne the good news, she also gave him equally good news. It was news he misunderstood at first. “Paul, we really only need to find four more.”

“Jayne, is your math that bad? We had twelve we had to find. We reduced the number by three from the ones Donna and I found yesterday, so that’s nine left to find. Chick and I have found a total of four more this morning so that means we have five left to find. What’s so hard to figure out?”

“Paul, when you called me I was just about to call you. I found another one. It’s been marked with the number thirty, it’s on . . . .”

Quickly he cut her off, explaining to her why he had. “Jayne, I’m sorry for doubting your math skills, I apologize. Guess I just got caught up in the moment. Listen, I should have called you earlier about this, but just tell me the numbers you find and you keep notes on where they are. I’ll explain the rest later, OK?”

“OK, I think I know what you mean, but I got it for now. Something like loose lips sink ships, correct?”

“Exactly. Hey, what kind of shape is it in?”

“Looks fine, strong and black just as he said it would. Right now a young mother is holding her child on it while daddy takes their picture. If only they knew, huh? I’ll go tell them not to dent it while they are having their pictures taken.”

“Yeah, do that. Nice find by the way, I’ll call you later.”

By mid-afternoon Paul had not found any other of the four still to be located cannons. Neither had Jayne or Chick. At least not ones he had been told about as his cell phone had not rung to tell him any more good news. Taking a break after being in the sun for most of the day, he sat in the shade provided by a small maple tree in front of one of the many restaurants in the city’s entertainment district. It was one of the neighborhoods the city had revitalized several years ago. Now tourists flocked to the area to spend their vacation dollars on overpriced sweatshirts and expensive dinners. Sitting in the shade, he called Jayne on her cell phone for an update.

“Hey, Paul.”

“I take it no news is bad news. Am I correct?”

“Unfortunately you are. I’ve checked everywhere I could think and then some, but no dice. I don’t know where else to check in my section. What’s the plan from here?”

“I’ll call Chick and tell him we are done for the day. Let’s meet back in front of the hotel and then we can pick one of the bars near there to have a beer at. I’m hot and thirsty, I need a beer. I’ll see you there.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be there in a few.”

Calling Chick to give him the news, Paul found he was as tired as they both were when he answered the call. “If you had not called me, I was stopping for a beer without you. My feet are killing me from all of this walking. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, don’t start without me!”

After meeting back in front of their hotel, the first order of business was to sit and rest. They did so at The Blue and Grey Saloon, an upscale neighborhood bar close to their hotel. Hot and thirsty, they each quickly drained two ice cold mugs of PBR. Drinking their beers, they exchanged notes on where they had found the cannons. “Here are some photos of the one I found, it looks like it could fire a cannon ball right now. It’s still in great shape.” Donna showed them the digital photos she had taken with her Nikon camera.

After taking a strong hit from his third beer, Paul set the frosted glass mug down on the bar. It was a long wooden bar which had been lacquered with far too many coats of polyurethane. The saloon was designed to cater to the tourists who came to Charleston to visit Fort Sumter and the other Civil War attractions in the area. In both the bar and dining area hung numerous paintings and pictures of what Fort Sumter had looked like after the cannon firing had ceased upon the tiny fort. Several facsimile Civil War uniforms and other curios decorated both areas of the saloon.

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