Legend of the Gypsy Queen Skull: The Devil's Triangle - Book 1 (11 page)

“Crap-a-hole!” Heinz said aloud, dropping
the pellet bag on the floor.

Looking at his computer’s clock, he realized
he had lost all track of time. Quickly snagging his siblings’
phones and a wireless headset, he bolted out of his room. One step
into the hallway and he heard the kitchen door shut.

“Honey, I’m home,” Paul announced.

For a split second, he thought about giving
up, but instead quickened his pace. The idea of spending two weeks
on another one of his dad’s wild goose chases was a strong
motivator. He had to get to his parents’ room to set up his
surveillance, before Paul got there.

~*~

Nearing his parents’ bedroom, he tripped
over his untied shoelace and fell headlong into the linen closet’s
door -
Thud!

Rubbing the newly formed lump on his head,
all he could see were stars circling around him as he rolled over
onto his back.

Come on, stay focused
, he thought,
shaking his head.

Standing up, albeit still a bit wobbly, he
turned and placed his ear on his parents’ door. Inside he could
hear the shower running in the master bathroom.

It’s now or never
, he
thought
.

Quietly opening the door, he slipped into
the bedroom and feverishly darted his eyes about the room. He was
looking for the perfect place to plant Tinnie’s phone.

Using it as a listening device, he’d
eavesdrop on his folks to get the real scoop on their vacation. The
more he knew now, the better chance he and his siblings would have
to avoid the misery of another misadventure.

~*~

At heart, Paul Bismarck was actually a good
guy but was a little misguided and obsessed with his job that lent
itself to most of his bad ideas.

He and Mrs. Bismarck
worked together at
Mystery, Legend and Lore eMagazine
as an
investigative writing team. Just as its name suggests, the
subscription website was in the business of supplying its members
with intriguing articles on lost treasure, historical conspiracies
and mysterious legends.

Paul, a former history professor, and
Margie, a once newspaper editor, together wrote some of the
companies’ most compelling stories. Having traveled the world over,
their pieces ranged from lost pyramids in Egypt to the haunted Yeti
cave in the Himalayas. However, due to the recent avalanche of
subscription cancellations and their untimely demotions, they were
in desperate need of a story. It had to be something big and
sensational to turn the ailing magazine and their careers
around.

~*~

Back inside his folk’s bedroom, Heinz called
Tinnie’s phone and tucked it behind the reading lamp on one of the
bedside nightstands. It’d be the perfect place for him to listen in
on their conversation.

Quickly turning to exit the room, he froze
when he saw the door handle begin to turn. As it swung open, he
flopped down on the floor and peered underneath the bed to see his
dad’s shoes as he walked into the room.

“Hey honey,” Paul said, as he walked over to
the bathroom door and knocked on it.

“Be out in a minute,” Margie replied.

Walking to their dresser, his dad shoved an
eight-track tape into their vintage player as Heinz bit down on his
lip and cringed. He knew right away his dad’s new big idea was
going to be a doozy. Paul always seemed to turn to classic rock
tunes when he had a new scheme up his sleeve.

Slithering underneath the bed, Heinz
disappeared out of sight before his father could see him. Fitting
easily into the tight space, he jerked forward but bumped his
forehead on a wooden cross support. Reeling from the pain, he
covered his mouth and buried his face in the carpet.

Meanwhile, Margie came out of the bathroom
wearing her pink robe with a towel wrapped around her head. As if
on cue, a sweet power love ballad began to play as Paul handed her
a cocktail glass.

“What’d you do this time?” she asked coyly.
“Should I even ask her name?”

Here it comes
, Heinz thought to
himself, trying not to giggle.

“This is going to be the greatest thing that
ever happened to us,” Paul said with as much sincerity he could
muster up. “I promise.”

“Uh-huh,” Margie replied, doubtfully nodding
her head.

Swigging down her whiskey, she handed the
empty glass back to him.

“Hit me boss man.”

Refilling it, he handed it back her as she
raised her eyebrows and asked, “So what’s the big plan,
anyway?”

Paul tried to schmooze her, moving in for a
kiss, but Margie snapped her finger and pointed it at him.

“Out with it. Now,” she said in her best
authoritative mom voice.

Clearing his throat, Paul then blurted out,
“I bought a file full of stolen documents from the Library of
Congress.”

“What?!” Margie said, raising her voice as
she narrowed her eyes on him.

Opening her mouth up to unload on him, he
held up his hand and said, “Just hear me out.”

Underneath the bed, Heinz was amusingly
nodding his head as a big grin came to his face.

Crossing her arms, Margie responded in a
patronizing tone, “Uh huh.”

But Paul only fumbled through his words.

“Conspiracy… They stole their gold...
Pirated it actually.”

Holding his finger up for a moment, he
paused and took a swig of her drink.

“And-d-d-d?” Margie prodded as he cleared
his throat.

“I found lost treasure in the Bermuda
Triangle.”

Dropping her mouth wide open; underneath the
bed, Heinz buried his face in the carpet and shook his head.

Taking a deep breath, Paul excitedly
explained.

“You know the pirate captain, ‘Gentleman’
Billy Darcy, right?”

Margie, now with her arms crossed, tightly
clinching her lips, hesitantly nodded.

“Well, I think these documents prove he was
actually working under a secret marque,” he said, opening up the
manila folder, he handed her a faded, yellowish document.

“I don’t want to get involved in this,” she
said sternly. “This is i-l-l-e-g-a-l,” she spelled out to him.

“Honey, just read it… Please.”

Reluctantly she read it aloud.

~*~

January, 9, 1687

Dearest Captain Darcy,

My contact has informed me you have yet to
make a deposit of confiscated treasure. This is troubling news to
say the least, especially since our adversary, Lord Craven, grows
stronger by the day. Carefully take heed of the following, for it
will be my one and only reminder.

Our arrangement has a time limit, one that
is quickly running out for you.

You and your crew are condemned men who only
continue to breathe God’s air at the leisure of the Crown.

Another unpleasant report and I’ll issue an
arrest warrant to have you captured and to carry out your
court-martials.

Sincerely, Her Majesty,

Queen Mary II

~*~

“You know this is a felony,” Margie added
with concern in her voice as she lowered her hand with the letter
in it.

“Honey, I’m going to return them when I’m
done... I promise,” Paul said, reaching for her hand. “Baby, this
note rewrites history… Look at the broken wax seal. It’s legit. The
Queen herself sent this message to history’s most notorious
pirate,” he said, looking her straight in the face.

“Go on,” she said, shifting to a more
inquisitive tone.

Paul cracked a smile and continued.

“History says Darcy and his men busted out
of prison shortly after their court-martial trial. Then they
reappeared as pirates on the other side of the Atlantic, plundering
Spanish treasure ships. But this document proves that historians
got it all wrong.”

“Darcy was secretly working for the
monarchy?” Margie asked.

“Yes!” Paul said enthusiastically cracking a
smile.

Margie, devilishly smiling back at him, took
another swig of her drink.

“What else you got?” she asked, her eyes
growing wide.

From his hiding spot Heinz shifted and
rubbed his forehead again and thought,
This is getting
interesting.
But he knew from previous experience if his dad
was steering a project, he’d probably drive it over the cliff.

“Here’s another one,” Paul said, handing a
wrinkled parchment over to Margie.

~*~

February 17th, 1688

Your Majesty – King William III,

I beg of thee to find mercy upon the Spanish
Royal Court. His Majesty, King Charles II of Spain has asked me to
request your assistance on his behalf in this most troubling hour.
As the war to break the French king’s iron grip on the mainland
rages on, it continues to take its toll on the King’s treasury.

Although your military support for him is
most generous, and mutually beneficial, Spanish taxation has fallen
far short of what is needed to keep this endeavor going for much
longer. To make up for this deficit, the King relies on Yucatán
gold mining exports, which brings me to his Majesty’s problem, the
rogue captain, pirate William Darcy.

As much as we’ve all been entertained by his
many adventurous stories, he and his crew have become more than
just a nuisance. Like rats, they are slowly gnawing away at this
lifeline of much needed gold from the New World.

No longer is this renegade pirate just an
embarrassment to your crown, he’s become a fatal leech on the neck
of your most loyal ally. Therefore, as a friend of King Charles
II’s court, I implore thee to send your navy at once to hunt down
this scoundrel and his minions and bring them to justice

Your loyal subject,

Lord Craven Stumpp – House of Lords

~*~

Looking up at Paul, Margie said, “That
doesn’t make any sense. Why would King William and his Queen be
hijacking gold shipments from their Spanish ally during
wartime?”

“Oh, it gets better,” Paul said with a big
smile. “There’s at least a dozen more letters from various lords
and dukes. It’s a veritable who’s who of parliamentary power
players, and each one of them implores the King to act. Captain
Darcy and his men were putting a serious dent in the money Lord
Craven was using to bribe them for votes.”

“So Craven was in cahoots with the Spanish
King?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, the Lord was trying to put an end to
the English monarchy once and for all, so he and his cronies could
take over the kingdom and reap untold fortunes,” Paul replied and
handed her another letter.

“That’s when King William made his
move.”

~*~

Commodore Sir Edwin Stumpp,

Dearest brother, we find ourselves living in
the gravest of times. King William is summoning a Parliamentary
Convention. It is on the horizon and nothing can be left to chance.
We must ensure the delicate scale of voting will weigh in our
favor. Our family’s continued prosperity depends on it. We cannot
cede any power to the Crown and must discredit them once and for
all.

I can no longer stall the numerous teetering
Tories and those dreadful Whigs. Their purchased votes are most
vital. However, their many thirsty purses can only be quenched by a
steady flow of gold coins, and our once-abundant well has nearly
run dry.

I’ve arranged a robust shipment of freshly
struck Spanish doubloons from our Yucatán partnership. It will be
enough to swell the bellies of three Spanish treasure galleons and
will keep our coffers filled well beyond the convention. I need you
leading this convoy to ensure its most precious treasure is timely
delivered to the Port of Amsterdam.

For your trouble I offer what thee most
desire: to wet your beak in the sweet nectar of revenge. I have no
doubt your most loathed foe, the pirate Captain William Darcy, will
make an appearance. He and his scallywags have yet to miss an
opportunity to chip away at our destiny.

Brother, this will be your finest hour. Good
luck and Godspeed.

- Lord Craven Stumpp

~*~

“So Craven needed this last gold shipment to
bribe parliament to vote against the Crown at the convention?”
Margie asked.

“Yes.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. The
convention wasn’t exactly a victory for the Crown.”

“Oh but it was,” Paul responded. “King
William and Mary got exactly what they wanted most.”

“What was that?”

“Parliament officially ratified their
reign.”

Margie had a puzzled look on her face.

“What’s the big deal with that?”

“After they won the war, the rest of Europe
recognized them as the seat of power, not Parliament.”

“So it set them up on the world stage then,
huh?”

“Yep. From then on Parliament was simply a
rubberstamp for them.”

“So the Crown got the treasure and their
power back too?”

“Power yes, but not necessarily the
treasure. It’s a bit of a mystery but I think I’ve-”

“Hey, hit me up again boss man,” Margie
interrupted, handing him her empty rock glass. “Then you’re gonna
tell me everything,” she added with a sly smile.