~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter Five~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jen groaned as she stood up and rubbed her sore tailbone.
She was covered with plaster -- and with bruises, she noted
unhappily.
Surveying the room, she realized that she didn’t recognize
it. But she had only fallen through one floor, so she must be
on the second floor. However, she’d checked all the rooms on
the second floor!
Or, at least all the rooms she had found, she thought,
coming to the realization that she was in a hidden room.
Sifting through the plaster, she came upon a box. She picked
it up. Remembering the cops, she searched for and quickly
found the secret panel leading out of the room and into one
of the bedrooms.
* * *
Trent sat in the ‘Vette, worrying about Jen. She should
be back by now, he thought, wondering if she’d been caught by
the cops. All she’d had to do was escape out a second floor
window and climb down a trellis, he knew. What could be
keeping her?
I shouldn’t have left her, he thought, feeling guilty.
He had just made up his mind to go look for her when she
appeared, carrying a medium-sized box. She was covered head
to toe in a white dust.
"What happened to you?" he asked as she climbed into the
‘Vette with the box.
"I found this in a secret room," she answered, unsealing
the box. "The hard way."
"So, what’s in the box?" Trent asked, curious.
Jen pushed the papers away from the lone content of the
box, and her eyes widened. She grasped the object and pulled
it out of the box for Trent to see.
Trent was stunned. In Jen’s hands was a solid gold,
jewel-encrusted replica of The Jolly Redger!
"Does this answer your question?" Jen asked, handing the
replica to Trent.
"This is amazing," Trent said, studying the artifact.
"I guess we know what the burglar was after," Jen pointed out.
"I bet this was something Red had made," Trent guessed.
"He was arrogant enough. It fits his profile."
"Yes, but it still doesn’t tell us where Mr. Halloran is,"
Jen reminded him.
"Actually," Trent admitted, "I’m pretty sure I know where
he is."
* * *
"I thought you said Mr. Ramsay said there was nothing
back there," Jen wondered as Trent stepped onto the ledge at
Hutton’s Bay and Marina.
"That’s what he told me," Trent said. "But this place
used to be a smuggler’s haven. There has to be someplace to
hide a ship around here."
"And there’s nowhere else around here large enough for
The Jolly Redger," Jen agreed as Trent edged towards
the other side of the ledge.
A few feet later, Trent stopped.
"I see something," he called quietly back to Jen.
"I was afraid you’d say that," Jen mumbled, stepping onto
the ledge to follow him.
The other side of the ledge housed a wide cove.
"Smuggler’s haven, all right," Jen noted. "Is that a
cave over there?" Jen pointed to a dark, gaping hole in the
cliff.
"It sure looks that way," Trent agreed. "But why would
Mr. Ramsay lie?" Suddenly, the answer came to him.
"Because he’s still using the cove for smuggling," Jen
deduced, reading his mind. "Oh, man! Gil Ramsay, Trent!
The letters! Lars Gymai!"
"You’re right," Trent acknowledged. "And I don’t know
about the other men, but I think Halloran probably got too
close for Ramsay’s -- Gymai’s -- comfort. After all, Halloran
smuggled here for years, too. So Gymai tried to scare him by
pretending to be Red coming back for him."
"And Gymai broke into the Rygali home looking for the
replica," Jen guessed. "He probably killed Rygali."
They approached the mouth of the cave.
"Wait here," Trent instructed. He peered inside the cave,
and when he was sure that there was no one inside, he beckoned
Jen over. They stepped inside.
* * *
Carlos answered his telephone.
"Dallas P.D.," he said.
"Detective Sandoval?" the voice from the other end of the
line asked.
"This is Detective Sandoval," he confirmed.
"I’m Sergeant Miller, from the Hutton’s Bay police
department," the man continued. "My officers informed me
that you identified the body of Mr. Samuel Rygali earlier
today."
"That’s correct," Carlos answered. "He was a part of a
case I’m working on."
"Then I’m glad I called," Miller said. "I thought you’d
like to hear the results of the autopsy."
"Rygali died of drowning, didn’t he?" Carlos asked.
"No, Detective," Miller said. "There wasn’t any water
in his lungs. Rygali was dead before he hit the water."
Carlos absorbed the news.
"Dead from what?" he asked a moment later.
"Stab wounds," Miller told him. "From some strange knife.
Curvy and really long."
Carlos considered the case. Pirates, curses, smugglers...
"Could the stab wounds have come from a curved sword?"
Carlos asked.
"Like a pirate’s sword?" Miller suggested. "It’s possible.
But who would...?"
"Use one?" Carlos finished. "How about a pirate?"
Miller chuckled at the notion. "Ole Red’s been dead for
sixty years."
"I didn’t mean Duke Renford," Carlos corrected. "I meant
Lars Gymai."
"Gymai?" Miller asked. "I thought he was in jail."
"He was released on good behavior," Carlos filled him in.
"Can you meet me at the marina?"
* * *
"I can’t see a thing," Jen whispered to Trent.
Trent clicked on his flashlight. "Is that better?"
"Much," Jen answered. Now she could see where she was
going. "I don’t see anything."
"They probably keep their stuff farther back in," Trent
surmised. "They may have Mr. Halloran back there, too."
They advanced towards the back of the cave. Jen kept
her right hand to the wall for balance on the uneven flooring.
A moment later, Jen fell to the right as her wall disappeared!
A muffled cry escaped her as she crashed into the rock floor,
reinjuring her already bruised body.
Trent spun around and shined the light on Jen.
"Are you all right?"
Jen covered her eyes to protect them from the light.
"I’ll live," she answered.
Trent helped Jen to her feet, then shined the light
behind her, illuminating another tunnel.
"This one’s headed back towards the marina," Jen observed.
"We’ll check it later," Trent directed. "Right now,
let’s finish the main tunnel." They left the side tunnel and
continued on.
Three hundred feet later, they found a bunch of crates
-- and the end of the tunnel.
"No Mr. Halloran," Trent noted in worry.
Jen went over and pried open one of the crates. Gingerly,
she lifted out a small statue. "Maybe not, but plenty of
evidence of smuggling." She set the figure back into the
crate and replaced the cover.
"We’ve got to call the police," Trent said. He pulled
his cellular phone from his front shirt pocket and flipped it
open. He tried calling. "I can’t get a signal down here."
He put the phone away, frustrated.
"Then we’ll have to call from outside," Jen realized.
Shestarted for the cave entrance, followed by Trent.
They quietly discussed the case for a moment, then Trent
clamped a hand over Jen’s mouth.
"Listen!" he whispered, removing his hand. There were
voices -- and people -- headed right for them!
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