Plum Island (47 page)

“Like Captain Kidd’s Trees.”

“Yes. And farther east, there are Captain Kidd’s Ledges, which are probably a section of the bluffs since there are no actual
ledges or cliffs on Long Island.”

I sat up. “You mean, there’s a part of the bluffs called Captain Kidd’s Ledges? Where?”

“Someplace between Mattituck Inlet and Orient Point. No one really knows for certain. It’s just part of the whole myth.”

“But some of it is true. Right?”

“Yes, that’s what makes it interesting.”

I nodded. One of those myths—Captain Kidd’s Ledges— was what prompted the Gordons to buy Mrs. Wiley’s acre on the bluffs.
How clever.

Emma added, “There’s no doubt that Kidd dumped treasure in several spots, either here on the North Fork, or on Block Island,
or Fishers Island. That’s where most accounts put the buried treasure.”

“Any other locations?”

“One more that we know is true. Gardiners Island.”

“Gardiners?”

“Yes. This is documented history. In June of 1699, while sailing around trying to make a deal with Lord Bellomont, Kidd anchored
off Gardiners Island to get provisions. The island was then called the Isle of Wight on maps, but it was, and still is, owned
by the Gardiner family.”

“You mean, the people who own the island now are Gardiners, and this is the same family who owned the island in 1699?”

“Yes. The island has been in the same family line since it was given to them by King Charles the first in 1639. In 1699, John
Gardiner, the Third Lord of the Manor, lived there with his family.” She added, “The Captain Kidd story is very much a part
of the Gardiner family history. In fact, on Gardiners Island is Kidd Valley and a stone monument that marks the spot where
John Gardiner buried some of Kidd’s treasure for him. The whole island is private, but the present lord of the manor will
sometimes give you a tour.” She hesitated, then said, “Fredric and I were guests of the gentleman.”

I didn’t comment on that, but said, “So there really
was
buried treasure.”

“Yes. William Kidd showed up in the
San Antonio,
and John Gardiner went out in a small boat to see who was anchored off his island. It was by all accounts a friendly meeting,
and the two exchanged gifts. There was at least one more meeting between the two, and on that occasion, Kidd gave John Gardiner
quite a bit of loot and told Gardiner to bury it for him.”

I said, “I hope Kidd got a receipt.”

“Better yet, Kidd’s last words to John Gardiner were, ‘If I call for it and it is gone, I will take your head or your son’s.”’

“Better than a signed receipt.”

Emma sipped her tea, then looked at me and said, “Kidd, of course, never returned. Having received another nice letter from
Bellomont, he was ready to go to Boston and face the charges. He landed there on July first. He was allowed to remain free
for a week to see who he associated with, then he was arrested on Bellomont’s orders and put into chains. His ship and his
Boston lodgings were searched, turning up bags of gold, silver, and some jewelry and diamonds. It was a lot of treasure, but
not as much as Kidd was supposed to have, and not nearly enough to cover the cost of the expedition.”

I asked, “What happened to the treasure on Gardiners Island?”

“Well, somehow—and the stories here differ—it came to the attention of Bellomont, who sent John Gardiner a nice letter by
special messenger….” She pulled a reproduction toward her and read, “ ‘Mr. Gardiner, I have secured Captain Kidd in the gaol
of this town and some of his men. He has been examined by myself and the Council and has confessed among other things that
he left with you a parcel of gold made up in a box and some other parcels besides, all of which I require you in his Majesty’s
name immediately to fetch hither to me that I may secure them for his Majesty’s use, and I shall recompense your pains in
coming hither. Signed, Bellomont.’ ”

Emma handed me the letter, and I glanced at it. I could actually make out some of it. Incredible, I thought, that stuff like
this survived three centuries. It occurred to me that maybe some other three-hundred-year-old document regarding the location
of more of Kidd’s treasure had led to the murder of two twentieth-century scientists.

I said to Emma, “I hope John Gardiner sent a letter back to Bellomont saying, ‘What Kidd? What gold?”’

She smiled. “No, John, Gardiner wasn’t about to cross the governor and the king. He duly carried the treasure to Boston himself.”

“I’ll bet you he kept some of it.”

Emma pushed a piece of paper toward me and said, “That is a photostat of the original inventory of the treasure delivered
by John Gardiner to Lord Bellomont. The original is in the Public Records Office in London.”

I looked at the photostat of the original, which was ripped in places and totally indecipherable to me. I pushed it back to
Emma. “Can you actually read that?”

“I can.” She held the photostat up to the lamp and read, “ ‘Received the 17th July of Mr. John Gardiner—one bag dust gold,
one bag coined gold and silver, one parcel dust gold, one bag three silver rings and sundry precious stones, one bag of unpolished
stones, one parcel of crystal and bazer stone, two carnelian rings, two small agates, two amethysts all in the same bag, one
bag silver buttons, one bag broken silver, two bags gold bars, and two bags silver bars. The whole of the gold abovementioned
is eleven hundred and eleven ounces, Troy weight. The silver is two thousand, three hundred fifty-three ounces, the jewels
and precious stones’ weight are seventeen ounces….’ ”

Emma looked up from the inventory and said, “This is a good-sized treasure, but if you believe the Mogul’s claim to the British
government, then there was twenty times more gold and jewels still missing than had so far been recovered on Gardiners Island
or seized on the San Antonio and in Kidd’s Boston lodgings.” She smiled at me and asked, “Okay, Detective, where is the rest
of the loot, booty, and plunder?”

I smiled in return. “Okay … a third is still in the Caribbean.”

“Yes. That treasure, which is well documented, disappeared and has spawned a hundred Caribbean legends to match the hundred
legends here.”

“Okay … also, the crew got their share before they all jumped ship.”

“Yes, but the whole of the crew’s share would not have been more than ten percent of the total treasure. That’s the deal.”

“Plus medical and dental benefits.”

“Where’s the rest of the treasure?”

“Well, we can assume John Gardiner skimmed a little.”

“We might assume that.”

“The lawyer, Emmot, got his, for sure.”

She nodded.

“How much is left?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? Estimates range anywhere between five and ten million of today’s dollars unaccounted for. But, as
I said, the treasure, if found in situ, rotted chest and all, would be worth double or triple its intrinsic value if it were
auctioned at Sotheby’s.” She added, “The treasure map alone, if it existed and if it was in Kidd’s handwriting, would be worth
hundreds of thousands of dollars at auction.”

“How much do you get for the maps in the gift shop?”

“Four dollars.”

“They’re not authentic?”

She smiled and finished her tea.

I said, “We’re assuming that Kidd buried treasure in one or more other locations as insurance, as a bargaining point to buy
his freedom and keep himself from the gallows.”

“That’s always been the assumption. If he buried some treasure at Gardiners Island, then he probably buried some elsewhere
for the same reason.” She added, “Captain Kidd’s Trees and Captain Kidd’s Ledges.”

I said to her, “I went to see Captain Kidd’s Trees.”

“Did you?”

“I think I found the place, but they’re all cut down.”

“Yes, there were still a few big oaks standing around the turn of the century. They’re all gone now.” She added, “People used
to dig around the stumps.”

I said, “You can still see some of the stumps.”

Emma informed me, “In colonial times, digging for pirate treasure became such a national obsession that Ben Franklin wrote
newspaper pieces against it. As late as the 1930s, people were still digging around here.” She added, “The craze has almost
entirely disappeared, but it’s part of the local culture here, which is why I didn’t want anyone in the Cutchogue Diner to
hear us talking about buried treasure. Half the damned town would have been dug up by now.” She grinned.

“Amazing.” I asked Emma, “So Kidd’s buried treasure was supposed to be his life insurance. Why didn’t it save him from the
gallows?”

“Because of a variety of misunderstandings, bad luck, vindictiveness. For one thing, no one in Boston or London believed Kidd
could recover the loot in the Caribbean, and they were probably right. That was long gone. Also, you had the mogul’s complaint
and the political problem. Then Kidd himself was playing it cute. He was holding out for a full pardon from the king in exchange
for turning over the plunder. But the king and the others may have felt that to protect the British East India Company they
had to return the plunder to the Mogul so they had no interest in pardoning Kidd in exchange for the location of the loot.
They would rather
hang
Kidd, which they did.”

“Did Kidd say anything about the hidden treasure at his trial?”

“Nothing. There are transcripts of the trial, and you can see that Kidd realized he was going to be hanged no matter what
he did or said. I think he accepted this and decided as a last act of spite to take any secrets he had to the grave with him.”

“Or, he told his wife.”

“That’s a strong possibility. She had some money of her own, but she seemed to live quite well after her husband’s death.”

“They all do.”

“No sexist remarks, please. Tell me what happened to the treasure.”

I replied, “I don’t have enough information. The clues are old. Yet, I would make the assumption that there was still some
treasure buried somewhere.”

“Do you think Kidd told his wife where all of it was?”

I reflected on this a moment, then replied, “Kidd knew that his wife could also be arrested, and she might be made to talk.
So … I think at first he didn’t tell her, but by the time he was in the slammer in Boston and was about to be shipped out
to London, he probably gave her a few clues. Like that eight-digit number.”

Emma nodded. “It’s always been assumed that Sarah Kidd managed to recover
some
of the treasure. But I don’t think Kidd would have told her where
all
of it was because if she
were
arrested and made to talk, then any slim chance that Kidd had of trading buried treasure for his life would have been lost.”
She added, “I really think he took the location of some buried treasure to the grave with him.”

I said, “Did they torture Kidd?”

“No,” she replied, “and people have always wondered why they didn’t. In those days, they tortured people for much less reason.”
She added, “A lot of the Kidd story never made sense.”

“If I’d been around, I’d have made sense of it all.”

“If you had been around then, they’d have hanged you as a troublemaker.”

“Be nice, Emma.”

I processed all this information and played with it awhile. I again thought about Charles Wilson’s detailed letter to his
brother, and I asked Emma, “Do you think Kidd could recall from memory all the locations of where he’d buried his treasure?
Is that possible?”

“Probably not.” She added, “Bellomont did look for evidence of hidden treasure and recovered some papers from Kidd’s Boston
lodgings and from the
San Antonio,
but there were no maps or locations of buried treasure among the papers—or if there were, Bellomont kept it to himself. I
should mention that Bellomont died before Kidd was hanged in London, so if Bellomont had any of Kidd’s treasure maps, they
may have disappeared on Bellomont’s death.” She said to me, “So, you see, John, there are lots of little clues and hints and
inconsistencies. People who have an interest in this have been playing historical detective for centuries.” She smiled at
me and asked, “So, do you have it figured out?”

“Not yet. I need a few more minutes.”

“Take as long as you need. Meanwhile, I need a drink. Let’s go.”

“Hold on. I get to ask a few more questions.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Okay … I’m Captain Kidd, and I’ve been sailing around Long Island Sound for … how long?”

“A few weeks.”

“Right. I’ve been to Oyster Bay where I got into contact with a lawyer, and my wife and children have come aboard from Manhattan.
I’ve been to Gardiners Island…. I asked Mr. Gardiner to bury some treasure for me. Do I know where he buried it?”

“No, which is why a map wasn’t needed. Kidd simply told Gardiner to make sure the treasure was available when he returned,
or he’d cut off a Gardiner head.”

I nodded. “That’s better than a map. Kidd didn’t even have to dig the hole.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you think Kidd did the same thing at other locations?”

“Who knows? The more common method was to go ashore with a few men and bury the treasure secretly, then make a map of the
location.”

“Then you have witnesses to where the treasure is buried.”

She replied, “The traditional pirate method of insuring secrecy is to kill the person who dug the hole and throw him in. Then
the captain and his trusted mate fill the hole. It was believed that the ghost of the murdered seaman haunted the treasure.
In fact, skeletons have been found buried with treasure chests.”

“Presumptive evidence of homicide,” I said.

She continued, “As I mentioned, Kidd’s crew at this point may have been reduced to six or seven. If he trusted at least one
to watch the ship and the crew and his family, he could easily row to any bay or inlet and bury a chest of treasure himself.
It’s not a major engineering project to dig a hole in the sand. The old movies usually show a big party going ashore, but
depending on the size of the chest, you only need one or two people.”