The Spanish Helmet (35 page)

Monday, September 12, 1527

We have, it seems, been travelling the same coast we landed on all those years ago. This became apparent today when we encountered the erupting volcano again. We anchored in the harbour south of the island once more and located our sweet potato plants, which seem to be thriving in this climate.

So it is confirmed. This land is two large islands, not a continent as we had expected. Could it be that the third island, mentioned to us by the Waitaha, is the smaller island that we passed near at the bottom of the southern island?

I have accordingly named the two large islands on my map as Isla
del
Norte and Isla de Sur, as befits their placement in relation to each other. The small island at the base of Isla de Sur shall be known as Isla de Loaisa.

It would appear, therefore, that we have now mapped the extent of this land. We will continue around Isla
del
Norte along the route we previously took, and then return to Whareakeake via the straits. We have the time to explore a little more of the coastline as weather permits. I would very much like to communicate with some of the other tribes. There must be more friendly natives to be found here, and surely much history to learn.

Tuesday, September 27, 1527

We have come around the tip of Isla
del
Norte and again coasted along the long beaches. A short distance south of these, we have located the entrance to a harbour. There are villages to be seen on both of the coasts of the harbour and also near the entrance. Several canoes have come towards us and then darted off again just as quickly, but the behaviour of the occupants isn’t threatening. They are merely curious. We will enter the harbour and explore it fully, for it looks to be an inviting place.

Seated back in his room at the hotel, Matt stared out the window at the grass field and old stone building that flanked it. Beyond the field, cars streamed in a steady flow into Dunedin, and beyond these, the botanic garden and his memories of the walk with Aimee there. He had to put her out of his mind. He turned his attention back to the note from the jar.

The fact that the jar had belonged to a Spanish explorer from the 1500’s was huge, regardless of the contents. Besides, Kirstein mentioned a journal. It couldn’t be empty. But, it was strange that the contents of the jar hadn’t been publicised. He had to go to Switzerland and find out what happened to the journal. Maybe he could then reveal it to the world. The prospect of being responsible for such an important revelation excited him. A nation’s history would be changed in a breathtaking moment. Matt would go down in history. Professor Pick would have to eat his hat. Matt would still have a job. It was these thoughts that kept him going every time he thought of Aimee.

Matt picked up the phone and dialled a number. He needed help in Switzerland and he knew just the man for the job. It was early morning in Switzerland, so Matt could still catch Andreas at home. Andreas Bosshard was a fellow student at the semi-exclusive ‘Swiss University of History and Archaeology’, or SUHA, in Scuol, Switzerland. He and Matt had hit it off immediately when they worked on a project together, and the two had remained good friends since. Andreas played tour guide and introduced Matt to all the corners of Switzerland. He had ensured that Matt was immersed in Swiss culture. When Matt returned to the UK, they continued to meet once a year for a ski break at a Swiss resort.

‘Bosshard.’
Came
the voice at the other end of the phone.

‘Hoi Andreas, hier ist Matt.’
Matt greeted him in high-German. Matt’s Swiss-German was rubbish.

‘Matt!
Wo
bist
du? ‘Andreas switched to English. ‘Your number wasn’t showing up on my screen.’

‘That might be because I’m in New Zealand.’ Matt chuckled.

‘What on earth are you doing down there?’

‘That’s a long story.’ Matt updated Andreas on everything that had happened up until the point of finding the cave at Murdering Beach. By this stage, twenty minutes had passed and he was conscious that this call would cost a fair bit, being a hotel phone and all.

‘So anyway...’ Matt continued. ‘...we went into the cave and at first we didn’t find anything, but eventually we found a Spanish jar, a preserving jar or something. I thought it was my big moment, but then I opened it.’

‘What was in there?’

‘A note from a Swiss academic who had been there before us.’

Matt unfolded the paper and read out the note to Andreas.

‘Holger Kirstein?’ Andreas said.
‘That’s incredible. He was one of Switzerland’s most important researchers, a
geolgist
.’

‘I’d never heard of him.’

‘Don’t worry. Admittedly, I never knew he had found anything of that nature during his New Zealand travels. It doesn’t make sense.’ There was a pause while Andreas said nothing. ‘Oh, wait a
minute, that
was Kirstein’s last journey before he died. He contracted a severe illness on his return journey to Switzerland and died in Zurich just weeks later.’

‘What happened to his work?’

‘His works are all in the archives at the ETH, the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Zurich. They have a large library there that holds many important archival works.’

‘So, is it feasible that the contents of the jar are somewhere at that library?’ Matt asked, a glimmer of hope shining through the phone.

‘If they’re anywhere that they can ever be located, then they must be at the ETH. Goodness only knows where any other work of his might be stored by now. But Kirstein was a stickler for having everything properly catalogued and stored, I’m almost certain that the contents of the jar must be in Zurich.’

‘I guess I’m on my way to Zurich then.’ Matt smiled down the phone.

‘Sounds like an adventure, Matt. When should I pick you up from the airport?’

Matt grinned, he loved that Andreas was prepared to drop everything and make the three hour journey to join him in Zurich. It would, indeed, be helpful for him to have a Swiss there with him to communicate their way through any barriers. He would also call in Julia, he had decided, since she spoke fluent Spanish and could possibly be helpful to have on board.

‘So you’ll come then?’ Matt asked, stupidly, since it was clear that Andreas was coming.

‘Wouldn’t dream of missing it, and besides, I know my way around libraries. My father is director of the library at the SUHA, remember?’

How could Matt forget? Both he and Andreas had worked at the SUHA library in the evenings and during holidays. Andreas’ father had sorted the jobs out for them so that they could contribute to their study costs and enjoy their weekends.

‘Great,’ said Matt. ‘I’ll let you know our flight details as soon as I have them booked.’

‘Our?’ Andreas asked. ‘Who are you bringing?’

‘I’ll get my colleague Julia to meet us in Zurich. She’ll fly out from London.’

‘What about Warren, won’t he come too?’

‘Warren’s dead,’ Matt said, realising that part of the story hadn’t been reached yet. ‘I’ll explain when I get there.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It’s quite a tale.’

‘OK Matt, get in touch with the details and I’ll see you in a few days I guess.’

‘Definitely before the week is out. Talk to you later.’

Matt hung up the phone and sat for a moment to recollect the eventful few weeks that he had just had. From the UK to New Zealand, and now on to Switzerland, he thought to himself. A month ago, if you had told him what he was about to experience, Matt would have laughed. He would have liked to now, but something was missing.
Actually someone.
Matt had to put Aimee behind him. It wasn’t going to be easy.

Many hours - and films on a tiny screen - later, the head steward’s voice came over the intercom and announced the start of descent into Zurich. Matt watched the map on the screen and realised they were approaching from the south-east, meaning they would fly over the Alps before turning into a final approach towards Zurich.

Sure enough, 15 minutes later, the snow-capped Alps came into view. Matt gazed out the window trying to determine which of the many valleys beneath them he had been in. The aircraft gradually descended lower and lower until he could see two small lakes out to the left, a castle topping a hill practically beneath them, and then the edges of a small city just before touching down at the busy airport. Matt buzzed with anticipation. Beyond knowing that Andreas and Julia would be here to meet him, Matt had no idea of what was in store.

Matt pulled his case off the baggage claim belt and set it on its wheels. Looking for the exit, he saw that most of one wall was windows out to the arrivals waiting area, and through them, standing and chatting with each other, were two of Matt’s best friends.

‘You guys have met?’ Matt asked, greeting them both a few minutes later.

‘Just now,’ Andreas said.
‘Quite by chance.’

‘I asked him where I could find a good coffee,’ Julia said. ‘He invited himself to join me.’

Matt grinned at Andreas. ‘Still the ladies man then.’

‘Completely innocent.’
Andreas put his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Come on then. Let’s get you to the hotel.’

Matt was fully at ease. He knew that in Switzerland, everything would be smooth sailing. The Swiss precision and quality, combined with Andreas’ humour and company, and his most trusted colleague who spoke fluent Spanish. What could go wrong?

  * * *

The world slowly faded back into being. Then it disappeared again. As quickly as it was gone, the blurry images reappeared. Hemi fought to keep his eyes open, but it was a losing battle. The blackness kept on taking over. He slept some more.

Five days passed before Hemi woke up properly again. He found that out from a nurse. He couldn’t remember what had happened to him, so he had to ask that too. He was shot. Who would shoot him?

‘Oh shit.’ Hemi said out loud, the events of the past weeks coming back to him.

He looked around frantically for a buzzer and found one hanging off a cable attached to his bed. He pressed at the button like a drunken geek
tweeting
his drinks list to a world of uninterested, but bored, surfers. A nurse ran into the room with a panicked expression on her face.

‘What’s wrong?’ She asked, looking him up and down, clearly disappointed not to find a major bleed or heart attack.