LC 04 - Skeleton Crew (24 page)

"Because he would have discovered it on his own after a while
and it would look suspicious to keep it from him," said Lindsay.

"Look," said Trey, The obviously was killed here. This makes no
difference."

Lewis rubbed his fingers through his hair, unmollified. "You
should have come to me first."

Lindsay shook her head. "No. That's information that directly
connects to the case he's working. We can't keep that kind of
information from the FBI."

"How are you coming on the case?" asked Lewis.

"Me?"

"I asked you to look into it for us."

"I've been doing other things. I can't just barge in on their case.
I suspect there is bruising on his neck or chest from the edge of the
sink where his head was held in the water," Lindsay replied. Lewis
made a face.

"The bruising is why they suspected he was moved. Then the
sugar in his lungs confused them."

"You should have allowed them to stay confused."

"No, he asked me something that I knew. He would have found out I knew it. If I hadn't told him, he could have charged me with
obstruction in a federal investigation. Besides, it's not a good thing
at all to have a killer running loose."

"What else do you know?"

"Mostly, what I told you before. Denton was moved shortly
after he was killed. We know that because livor mortis set in while
he was in the pond."

"Livor mortis?"

"Lividity."

Lewis nodded his head. "I'm glad you know these terms."

"What the FBI doesn't have a clue about is motive. What I did
not tell him is that there is a great big motive somewhere on the
bottom of the ocean."

"You think that's involved?" asked Lewis.

"That'd be my guess. I can't think of a more compelling reason
for murder." She told them about her theory that Hardy Denton's
bid was so low because he wanted to get inside the dig to find out
about the other galleon.

Lewis and Trey both looked at her wide-eyed. "I hadn't thought
of that," said Lewis. "I should have. It makes perfect sense."

"That's why he was so mad," said Trey. "I couldn't really figure
out why he should be so angry. He has other projects. But, of
course, he's been hanging around Eva Jones instead of tending to
his business."

"So, it's safe to say the Jones woman knows about the galleon.
Damn!" Lewis pounded his fist on the desk.

"It was hopeless to think a secret like that could be kept," said
Lindsay.

"Why didn't you tell Ramirez?" Lewis asked. "You are right,
that provides a big motive."

"Several reasons. I don't know if the silver galleon is related to
Denton's murder. However, I am certain there is only one place he
could have drowned in sugar water and gotten charcoal in his
mouth." Lewis gestured his head toward Lindsay, conceding that
point. "I don't want to give away company secrets and I don't
want to have the dam circled by even more pirates. And as far as I
know, the silver galleon is a rumor at this point. We aren't looking
for it to my knowledge ... are we?"

Both Trey and Lewis kept silent.

"Are we?"

Silence.

"Great, stealth archaeology."

Lewis gave her a rueful smile. "Nate's team is looking. His
divers don't know it, but their surveying is for that purpose."

That's why his team doesn't find many artifacts, thought
Lindsay. They aren't looking for Estrella artifacts. "Is Nate the only
person who knows?"

"Sarah," said Trey. "She and Nate have worked together a long
time."

"Is Nate using his computer program to search for it?" asked
Lindsay.

"You know about that?" asked Lewis. "Yes, he is. But the problem is, we don't know where the ship went down exactly. We only
know it was somewhere off the coast of Georgia, or Florida, or
even South Carolina. We're hoping Georgia, but that covers a lot of
acres of ocean."

"You don't have any clues?" asked Lindsay.

"A few minor clues," answered Trey. "And Nate has plugged
those into the program. But we have no confidence in them. He's
mainly using this site to test his software."

"They've found nothing in the survey?" Lindsay asked. Trey
shook his head. "Where do Boote and Keith Teal fit into this?"

"Who says they do?" asked Lewis.

"Keith was murdered also. It would be quite a coincidence for
the two murders not to be related. Some of the crew knew both of
them. Did they know each other?"

"Did Ramirez say Keith was murdered?" asked Lewis.
"Couldn't he have gotten drunk and fallen in the quicksand and
drowned, or whatever it is you do in quicksand?"

"Quicksand has a bad rap. It's not like it is in the movies.
Harper is what, about five-five? She sank up to her chest and said
she could feel the bottom."

Trey made a painful grimace.

"How tall was Keith?" asked Lindsay.

"Six feet, I'd say."

"Okay, then. Normally the pits aren't deep. In any case, they
don't suck you in. Getting out is not impossible. Besides, what
would he be doing drinking in the middle of St. Magdalena? It's
not exactly a social spot."

"Great, another murder," said Lewis.

"I don't know if Keith knew Denton or Jones," said Trey.

"Both Jones and Keith Teal were treasure hunters. I'll bet they
knew each other," said Lindsay.

Trey shook his head. "Jones is what you might call world-class.
She's got the fancy equipment." Lewis laughed and Trey joined
him. Lindsay just shook her head. "Keith was just a beach bum
who got lucky with a couple of ships he found."

"Did he find anything that could be linked to the silver
galleon?"

"No," said Trey. "Nate and I looked at everything he and his
father had collected."

"He might not have shown you everything. Especially if it had
significant value or he thought it might lead to something of
value."

"Maybe. But ... I don't know," said Trey.

"What is it you know about the galleon?" asked Lindsay.
"When did she sink?"

"In 1556 or 1566. We don't know for sure. The source we looked
at was not in good condition. Not that much evidence really," said
Lewis. "The archives said she went way off course and was lost in
a storm. The records make mention of them being chased by
pirates."

"But, surely, you could connect her to a fleet? The House of
Trade was nothing if not merciless bureaucrats. Wouldn't they
have had meticulous records? And, at that time, wasn't there a law
against lone galleons traveling with gold?"

"Yes, to both of those observations," said Trey. "But we couldn't
find the fleet she sailed with. What we found was in a letter to one
of the members of the House of Trade. The letter didn't mention the
fleet. And we didn't find a reference in any of the silver galleon
fleets that sailed during that time."

"Could she have been a Pacific Manila galleon?" asked Lindsay.
"Did you look in those records?"

"The Manila route wasn't discovered until about 1565," said
Trey, "right on the edge of the last date we have. We looked, but
didn't find anything. The only real clue was a fleet sailing from
Havana in 1556, the first date. The records show a fleet of seven
ships leaving Havana for Spain. All of them made it, but it looks
like the original number was eight, and that was marked out.
There was no mention of a shipwreck. Like you said-the House of Trade loved paperwork. If there was a wreck, it should have
been mentioned. It may be a mistake, or that may be the missing
ship."

"That's not much. I wonder what Jones has?"

"You think she has something?" asked Lewis.

"I don't think she's working only on a leak from us. She must
have other information. Maybe she heard the rumor and did some
research herself and found something," said Lindsay.

"Perhaps," said Trey. "But I don't know what that could be."

"Could there be any link between our ship and the silver
galleon?" asked Lindsay.

"There's no indication of that," said Trey.

"I tend to think that Jones is after artifacts from the Estrella,"
said Lewis. "I just don't see how she could know anything about
the silver galleon. Now, what I'd like you to do, Lindsay, is find out
who killed Denton. We don't need the kind of publicity his murder
is bringing. So far, we've been lucky. Have you seen the papers?"
He retrieved several from his desk, laid them on the table, and sat
down with Lindsay and Trey.

Lindsay picked up a copy of the Savannah Morning News containing a feature section about the dig, complete with a drawing of
a galleon. It also had Lindsay's drawing of HSkR1 and a description of its injuries, with the lurid title of "Murder on the High
Seas." The Atlanta Journal and Constitution had the drawings of
three of the four skeletons Lindsay had done and the story she had
told from their bones. Steven Nemo had drawn a cross section of
the ship and placed some of the artifacts they had discovered,
along with photographs of them. Again the murder victim was the
star with top billing-"Murder in the Hold" was the title. It didn't
matter that he was found two decks up.

"The people love murder when it's in the past," said Trey.
"They hate modern murder. I don't want these deaths to take anything away from the wonder of this dig."

"Lewis, I'll do what I can. But the FBI isn't going to give me
information just because I ask. They won't like me being a private
detective. And you've not thought of one important point."

"What's that?"

"What if one of our crew is guilty?"

"Do you believe that?"

"In my heart of hearts? No. But it's a possibility."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"I'll have to tell you right now straight. I won't withhold a murderer from the FBI."

"That wasn't what I meant. I just mean we'll figure out something."

Lindsay wasn't comforted.

"I've got another skeleton to analyze and a murderer to find, so
I'd better get busy."

Lewis grabbed her hand as she got up to leave. "I'm sorry I
came down so hard about the Denton thing. You did the right
thing, of course."

Of course, thought Lindsay. She just hoped nothing would
come up in the future that he wanted kept from the authorities.

Carolyn wasn't finished with the fourth skeleton, so Lindsay
gathered up her drawing tools.

"I'd like to make some extra copies of these skull photographs-"

"There's a copy machine in the main office," said Carolyn. "Be
careful of the other guys."

Lindsay took the digital photographs to what was referred to as
the main office. A woman was there that Lindsay had seen, but not
met. As she started to speak, Lindsay braced herself.

"Hi, I'm Gretchen."

"Lindsay Chamberlain. I came to use the copy machine." She
held up her photographs.

"Skulls?"

"These are two of the human remains we've found. I use photographs of the skulls to draw a picture of what they may have
looked like in the flesh."

"Oh, how interesting. I saw the first one in the newspaper. You
actually use the skull?"

"Yes, I like being able to put a face on the remains. When
they've been skeletonized, it's sometimes easy to forget that they
were people." As Lindsay spoke, she listened to the hum of the
copier. It was the same sound she had heard coming from the room
the evening she encountered Mike Altman in the lab.

"What are you doing here?" The voice was so sudden and
harsh, it was almost as though Lindsay had conjured him up from
her thoughts.

"She's using the copier, Mike. Chill out."

"It won't take long." Lindsay tried to sound cheerful. "It was
locked up the other night," she said, "and I didn't have a key. I
thought I'd use it in the daytime." She smiled sweetly at him
before turning to make her copies.

"I'll be glad when you people are gone. The lot of you are
mean-spirited, disruptive, ill-adapted for this environment, and
inclined toward hysteria. The sooner-"

Lindsay whirled around at Mike with such vigor, he was
startled.

"You were there. You heard us yelling when Harper fell in the
quicksand and you didn't come to help."

Mike recovered quickly. "You didn't need it. Like you said.
Quicksand isn't like the stories written about it."

"You didn't know that she wasn't hurt and you had to know we
were missing. You didn't think you should tell someone where we
were?"

"Mike," said Gretchen, "you knew where they were, all that
time?"

"Not all the time. Look, I'm not their keeper. If they can't take
care of themselves, they should get off the island."

"And you call us mean-spirited." Lindsay took her copies.
"Nice meeting you, Gretchen. Thanks for your help." She walked
out the door, down the hallway, and downstairs to the lab.

"You had a run-in with one of them, didn't you?" Carolyn
stood staring at Lindsay as she took her seat at her desk.

"Does it show?"

"Yeah. We've all had experience with them-Mike and Tessa,
anyway."

"It's getting out of hand. That Mike guy is so bitter."

She took out some paper, went to the light table, and began
drawing. After an hour she looked at her watch. It was about time
for the crew to come in. Maybe she could get John to take her to
visit Boote.

"'No," SAID JOHN, "I won't allow it. Boote sabotaged your boat. I'll
not risk you going there."

Lindsay stared at John for a long moment. The wind-driven
ocean waves sprayed fine mist on her bare legs as she stood at the
edge of the dock.

"I understand. I'll get someone else to take me over." She
turned to go, but he held her arm and turned her to face him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Lewis asked me to."

"Maybe I need to talk to Lewis."

"Maybe you don't."

"Lindsay, Boote blamed us for the disappearance of his son
even before he knew he was dead. What do you think he'll be like
now?"