Treasure Sleuth (12 page)

Within a few short minutes he was out of the farm drive and back on public roads. The village was three hundred yards to his right, only two street lamps gave enough glow to outline the pub. Mark turned left, into complete darkness once again hoping to hear the familiar bark and crackle of the exhausts.

Where are you Abby?

There were no lights in the distance, had she taken a wrong turn? He pressed the walkie-talkie button and spoke into the microphone. There was no reply. She was still out of range. Feeling anxious, Mark started to run along the lane. This was the meeting point. The lane. But there was no sign of Abby. Had the gang caught up to her? Just barely making out the metallic outline of a field gate, Mark stopped to climb and get a better look in the direction of where Abby would be coming from. But it was a sea of black. No lights, not even a dim glow making its way along the hedge row, no V8 crackle echoing through the lanes. Everything was quiet and still.

Mark felt concerned and was now starting to feel vulnerable. For each extra minute he spent in the lane, he knew it would increase his chances of someone else finding him. And being spotted in a quiet village lane in the middle of night, wearing fresh mud on all black, carrying night vision and a backpack containing a fold-up army spade and ten kilos of gold did not look good. Then a bleep emitted in his left ear.

"Little Jo to Big Joe, making a second pass."

Relieved, Mark stood in the middle of the lane and responded.

"Hey Little Jo, sure is good to hear your voice. I'm in place ready for pickup. What does second pass mean?"

Just then Mark cast a long shadow in front as headlamps came up from behind. Startled, he turned in time to see them dip to sidelights revealing the low stance of the F-Type.

"It means I'm right behind you!" the voice came back.

Mark moved over to the hedge side and got in letting out a huge sigh of relief.

"I was starting to worry."

"I did exactly as you said, kept moving to avoid arousing any suspicion and when you weren't here I turned beyond the village and was making a second pass. And here you are."

Mark smiled and nodded, catching his breath.

"Oh my God!" Abby said concerned looking at Mark as the interior light faded off. "You're bleeding!"

"Just a few surface scratches, nothing to worry about," he said wiping his face with a tissue. "Bloody thorns."

"Was the mission a success?"

"Yes, more than a success. I got it all, and you were perfect. Did you make the call?"

"I made the call," she said nodding. "I didn't think you'd want to get involved in something like that, preferring to stay invisible."

"Yeah you're right, normally I wouldn't. It's not the theft of an excavator that bothers me so much. It's what they were going to use it for that bothers me. Hopefully we prevented two crimes from happening, that's if the police catch up to them."

Out on the main road Abby made her way back to the roundabout to head back through Exeter. Coming over the brow of a hill a dazzling display of blue flashing lights filled the night sky.

"Shit," Abby blurted out.

"Relax. It may just be random vehicle checks. We'll be okay, all tires have legal tread and we're taxed and insured. They don't normally check backpacks unless they think we are involved in drugs, so just act normal."

As they approached a police man was in the middle of the road and held his hand up to stop them. Abby came to a holt and slid the gear shift into park.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"Just wait here a second, he'll direct you to the side of the road if he wants you to pull over," Mark replied. "I should tell you something but promise me you won't panic?"

Abby looked across at Mark who had a face of terror. "What? What is it? Tell me!"

"It's about the gold."

"What about it?"

"It's not what you think. It's not gold. It's cocaine. And has a street value of three million pounds. Just keep cool and pray the cop doesn't have a sniffer dog."

Abby's face turned white in-between the blue police lights flashing across her cheek bones.

What. The. Fuck.
It was all she could think.

Mark reached his arm over and patted her leg. "I'm only kidding," Mark smirked, grinning like a twelve year old.

"You better be, you bastard. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Don't EVER do that again!" she blasted back.

The policeman then waved Abby to come forward. She sat there still in shock. Mark grabbed the shifter and rammed it into drive. "C'mon, let's go," he said.

She put her foot on the gas pedal and drove slowly past the police officer who was waving them by a group of squad cars. The policeman guided Abby the wrong way around the roundabout due to the carnage on their side of the road. An excavator lay on its side in a hedge still strapped to the trailer it sat on. A Ford truck had overturned and sat across the roundabout on its side in a pool of glass and twisted metal.

"Nice," Mark said as they burbled by. "I guess it's not easy controlling a trailer with a flat tire while being chased."

Further up the road another police car sat on the side with intermittent red flashing lights. "Now what?" Abby asked feeling exhausted.

"It's okay, just go around, those lights just let you know he has pulled someone over, they're only for safety," Mark explained.

"You got further than I thought you would," Mark said as they passed the police car. In front, a Mitsubishi off-roader was abandoned on the pavement, all its doors still open, a sign of desperate escape.

"Is there anything else you'd like do tonight cowboy?" Abby asked in a playful tone. "Any more tombs you want to raid or burglars you want to chase?"

Mark looked over to her silhouette as she remained focused on the road ahead. Her delicate face concentrating intently was causing his adrenaline to stir even more. "Well… there is something I can think of," he said trying to hide his cheeky grin.

"Oh yeah?" Abby asked biting her lower lip.

Abby woke to find Mark already dressed and making coffee in the kitchen.

"Morning cowboy," she said leaning into the door frame smiling.

Mark turned to see Abby's beautiful face watching him, wearing a white short sleeved buttoned shirt he instantly recognized as his own. It rested gently over her hips, her silky smooth legs drawing in Mark's eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I needed to be up early, I have a long trip ahead."

"Ah yes, Birmingham isn't it?"

Mark brought in coffee and sat down next to Abby. He reached over to the table in front and pulled off a towel that had been covering the gold bars.

"There you go, just to prove it wasn't cocaine."

Abby gasped as she looked at twenty two bright, shining gold pieces, each one the size of a credit card.

"Oh my," she said raising her eyebrows. "This is what ninety gee's worth of gold looks like then? And you hid all this in a grave?" She looked at Mark who gave a resounding nod. "You really are cuckoo."

She watched as he placed each small piece into envelopes and then into his brief case. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked in a mournful tone.

"What? Sell my gold pieces that I have been patiently saving all these years to buy a an exotic Italian V12 and instead help some girl I barley know buy a lighthouse for a holiday home so her mum can look after a few scrappy K9s?" he replied placing the last envelope in the case. "Absolutely! I'm cuckoo all the way!" he said smiling.

He stood up and put on his suit jacket.

"You look so different to just a few hours ago," Abby observed. "You looked like a Navy SEAL wearing all your black combat gear, big boots, rough stubble and cuts all over your face," she said touching his cheeks with her fingers. "But now you're all clean shaven, smooth and gorgeous. If you weren't wearing jeans, you'd look like you work in a bank."

He met her eyes and kissed her gently on the lips.

She watched the Jaguar disappear out of view as it left the gates, hearing the exhausts pop and crackle as it descended the hill. Now she had time to herself to go through her grandpa's work. After making a fresh cup of coffee she entered the lighthouse, giving a quick glance up the driveway before bolting the door behind her and opening the closet.

After a few hours Abby returned to the cottage holding a file containing papers belonging to her Grandpa. She placed them on the side and went to the bedside drawer to collect her passport and driver's license and placed them in an envelope. She sat on the sofa and stared at the file on the table.

"I don't know what to do Grandpa," she said looking up at the ceiling. "Give me a sign, please."

She sat for a while until her stomach gave a ferocious rumble breaking the silence.

That wasn't the sign I was looking for
she thought as she got up from the sofa. Looking in the empty cupboards she decided to go out for something to eat. The walk and some fresh air would do her some good.

For breakfast she visited the Hope & Anchor pub in the Outer Hope part of the cove and asked if anyone had reported losing a ring. A staff member pointed to a couple of old ladies sitting in the window seat and explained how one of the women lost her ring a week ago.

"Excuse me," Abby asked. "I understand one of you has lost a ring?"

"Yes dear, I have, have you found it?"

"I'm not sure," Abby replied. "Can you describe it?"

"Oh yes dear, it's a gold ring with a diamond cluster in the middle."

"Oh," said Abby disappointed. "So it didn't have any African markings or a green emerald then?" she said pulling the rings out of her pocket.

"Oh no dear, nothing like those, it was gold with diamonds."

"Yes I understand. It's just that I found these on the beach yesterday and thought I'd better check."

"Beach dear? Oh no, I lost mine in the garden."

Sensing an opportunity to step into her Grandpa's shoes, she offered her detection services and the lady gratefully accepted.

After breakfast Abby returned to the Amber Room and picked the detector she used on the beach. Although it was heavier than the rest, it was the one she knew and felt comfortable with. Abby lifted her keys from the kitchen side and collected the file on the table before walking over to her Volkswagen rental.

She was on a mission of her own now, and followed Mrs. Prescott's directions to her small cottage. The old lady greeted her with a warm hug and invited her in.

"I'll put the kettle on while you get started," Mrs. Prescott said leading Abby out into her back garden.

"It's beautiful," Abby said admiring the lady's assortment of flowers and rose bushes. "Whereabouts were you working?"

"Here, there," the lady said pointing. "Over there too. Everywhere."

"I'll have a go," Abby said, her confidence fading fast. She turned the detector on and was immediately met with a low buzz. Remembering what Mark had told her about the discrimination she ignored that signal and carried on. After several minutes of unfruitful searching the old lady was back with a tray of tea.

"Oh here let me help you," Abby offered placing the detector on the ground.

"That's okay dear, I'm quite capable," she replied with a little laugh.

"Have you lived here long?" Abby asked sipping her tea.

"Let me think..." the lady replied. "About seventy five years now. Moved here when we got married. I was only nineteen you know."

"Wow, you take care of yourself very well."

"It's the sea air dear, you can't beat it," she said with a chuckle. "Where in America are you from dear?"

"Illinois."

"Are you any relation to Eugene?"

"Yes, he was my Grandpa, did you know him?"

"He's a wonderful man. Wonderful man. The church got a new roof thanks to him."

"They did?"

"Yes, quite incredible. He found an old posy ring in the grounds, worth a few bob, the museum bought it and your Grandpa donated all the proceeds which built the new roof."

"Mrs. Prescott, I'm sorry, my Grandpa passed away."

"Oh my dear, how sad. Oh you poor thing, that is upsetting."

"He wasn't well, and, it got the better of him I'm afraid."

"I see some of his spirit has passed to you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're hear looking for my ring."

"Yes, I guess I am. Talking of which let me scan around your rose bushes."

After a few moments Abby heard the high pitch dolphin squeal in her ears and began to carefully dig. The object put up a fight and Abby wished she had brought the pin-pointer Mark used. After a few frustrating moments of probing her finger through the mud she felt something hard and circular. Holding her breath and pulling her hand out of the mud revealed a ring. It was another chunky silver ring, but this one had a red stone in the middle and the words 'United States Air Force' clearly embossed around the stone.

"Oh my dear, let me see," Mrs. Prescott said holding the ring in the air. "Oh Howie," she spoke as tears formed in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Abby asked.

"This belonged to my husband. He was a pilot in the Second World War. He thought he lost this in the sea down in the cove."

Abby could see the ring was bringing back a flood of memories so she stood silently and let Mrs. Prescott have the moment to herself. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Oh Mrs. Prescott I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Abby said offering a tissue.

"Thank you dear," she replied accepting the tissue and dabbing her eyes dry. "This hasn't upset me, quite the opposite. These are tears of joy."

She handed the ring back to Abby so she could look at it more closely.

"That ring my dear belonged to my late Howard, who lost it while on a break. We spent a lot of time together that year in the garden and he dug out this area to plant my rose bushes before leaving again for service. He was killed a few months later and I never saw him again. So this ring has been buried for over seventy years since."