LAST ASSAULT ON OAK ISLAND 8
Chapter 8
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Wednesday morning broke fair for Oak Island and the temperature quickly rose to a muggy height. By 7:30 the Yearbright drills were grinding into gear, churning dirt and mud out of the massive shaft upwind from the lighthouse. They were soon joined by the echo of Clemens' drill at Borehole 12B.
No one sleeps late here, Lauren thought irritably as she dressed. The beam from the tower was enough to give even the soundest sleeper insomnia, and about the time daylight eclipsed the beacon, the drilling would start.
It was something she would have to get used to, she knew. Another item on the growing stack of things to accept.
"This is for you." Carlos handed her a rolled up shade as she came into Rudy's small kitchen a few moments later. "Captain Maruso brought it this morning."
"He's here?" She looked fondly at the new window shade. It was thick, the light-blocking type. She smiled. "I forgot to get one when we were in town."
"He brought some replacement panels for Rudy. They're up at the light now." He cleaned his glasses carefully, waiting for her to ready herself a few biscuits and tea. "A pity we couldn't get more from the libraries, but at least we have a few excellent maps from the early maritime. One especially." He tapped the pile of copies she had made. "It matches the one in Brielle's diary exactly."
Lauren almost dropped the teapot. "You found a map? When?" She sat beside him, eyeing the shoebox next to the plate of biscuits.
"Last night." He smiled. "It was late. You were sleeping. That blasted light was bright enough to work by so—"
"You didn't, Carlos." He was still recovering from minor eye surgery and she was constantly reminding him of his limitations.
"No. I used a lamp. But I did find the map. Now eat first before Rudy comes in and slaps some hot pepper jelly on your bread." He took a long drink of tea and cautiously took the diary out of the box. "The first reference of the nature was to what Brielle called Port Gloucester. This chart," he said, sorting through the copies, "here, has the same longitude and latitude as Mahone Bay. It was drawn by a British cartographer in 1776. The bay was also known, although not commonly, as Mecklenburgh Bay, and Oak Island as Gloucester Isle.
"Most references use the name Oak Island rather than Gloucester," he said, finding another chart. "The first survey of the island was in 1762 by the province's surveyor-general. It's labeled Island Number 28, and consists of 140 acres divided into 32 lots. In smaller print, it's also called Oak Island, Gloucester Isle, and Smith's Island. According to public record, it was uninhabited."
She leaned closer, patching together sentences from Carlos' notes. His handwriting certainly looked like he had written by candlelight.
"Brielle mentioned Port Gloucester the Lady Grey was in Mecklenburgh waters. Here." He pointed to a smudged page in the diary. "It doesn't mention Nova Scotia or Canada, but Brielle says they sailed north past the Colonies, lists the position, and states an 'isle of discretion will surely be found to suit our needs'. He lists Port Gloucester, Port Sable, and the Mecklenburgh waters here, too. Those are the only names in the text." He sat back. "He mentions bypassing Port Shannon in Virginia where he was supposed to pick up cargo for the Crown."
"He already has the payroll?"
He nodded and turned two pages.
She looked at the map sketched in ink.
"If this copy was reduced about 30 percent, it would fit exactly."
She looked at the old navigating chart. "It's Mahonne Bay."
"Yes. The French spelling for Mahone. It was named after a favorite ship used by Mediterranean pirates. The island isn't mentioned by name on Brielle's map, but the similarities in names are beyond coincidence."
"You're convinced?"
"Yes. The only names are the bay and these two islands, Gloucester and Sable. Gloucester is never identified on the map; only in text." Carlos skimmed the page, consulting his notes briefly. "Here. Brielle doesn't write why the Lady Grey is in the bay. The whole matter is quite vague, as if he fears someone may be trying to read the entries."
"Stuart?"
"Possibly. Drink your tea before it gets cold, Lauren."
She obliged, found it already too cool, and pushed it out of the way. She watched as he read.
"He spent a good deal of time convincing Stuart to take the risks, too. Down here he writes '. . . view of nothing save a few natives, which take their leave hereafter. The Port provides a natural shelter for repairs and utter privacy. Our dear Stuart has agreed, as I predicted, and we shall scout the Port shortly'. There it is. The collaboration."
"You won't have to translate it all, Carlos," she said hastily. "Just find the map or plans. He'd have to write them down."
"Yes, but that's exactly what he did." He smiled at her eagerness. "My dear, this is the only map in the journal. Brielle never made a map—a treasure map, if you will—with an X and all that. He wrote out the directions."
She groaned. "How tedious." She frowned. "But I saw an X. A large one."
"Ah, the smudged page." He nodded. "Yes, but there was no island under that X. The mark means nothing of the sort."
Her gaze drifted slowly over the notes. "He wrote it out?"
"Yes. Words on a page are one thing; maps would draw attention."
"Stuart?"
He shrugged. "Perhaps. I don't think Brielle trusted anyone completely."
"Every word will count."
"Nearly so. That's as far as I got last night. Much of it was belly-aching on Brielle's behalf."
"Is that it?" Rudy asked as he and Maruso stepped in the back door from work on the light. Carlos threw a shoebox over the diary as the door opened.
"The map, yes." Carlos gently removed the box, relieved no damage was done to the aged book. "It's the only one included, and gives few particulars."
"That's the bay," Maruso said as he and Rudy settled across from Carlos. "Rudy was saying something about a Port Gloucester."
Carlos nodded.
Lauren glanced between Rudy and Maruso.
Brielle was not the only one conspiring.
Carlos told them over lunch the recent updates on their progress. Both Rudy and Maruso were disappointed Brielle had not used more maps, but understood that even the one drawing would show a direct link between Brielle and the bay.
"Include that, too," Carlos told Lauren as she made notes for a letter to Stends and Cooper. He looked to Maruso. "I hope you're taking that 60-day option seriously. I think we're going to need it."
He nodded. "The Second Wind is yours."
"Brielle is certainly taking his time getting to the operation," Rudy growled.
"He's a deliberate man," Carlos said. "He was trying to take advantage of the war's confusion to pull off this undertaking. I don't think he trusted anyone else with the plans."
"Not even Stuart?" Rudy asked.
"If he trusted Stuart he would have let him live," Carlos determined.
"Unless he really was killed by accident," Rudy argued. "Maybe the Lady Grey was attacked by American privateers like Brielle claimed."
"There wasn't much of that until the War of 1812," Maruso recalled.
"Brielle never mentions an attack in the journal; only the ship's log," Carlos said.
Lauren had gently lifted the edge of the diary a few pages, trying to find the X mark she had seen earlier. "Then what's this?"
She found the page and opened it carefully.
Staring back at them was the X below a smudged spot on the page.
"Crossbones," Maruso said.
She glanced at him. "As in skull and crossbones?" She frowned at the page, squinting until the fuzzy X sharpened slightly. She nodded slowly, tilting the diary a bit.
Carlos leaned over her shoulder. His attention shot to Maruso. "Why?"
Maruso shrugged. "Just a guess. Most pirates used some sort of combination of sword, knife, skull, and crossbones on their flag—variations on the Jolly Roger." He leaned his elbows on the table, looking to Lauren as she relaxed her squint and met his gaze. "Don't you think that's what it is?"
Rudy was nodding, studying the page. "Brielle never went into piracy. Why toy with a pirate flag?"
Carlos sighed. "He was already toying with the Crown's gold and ship; maybe he saw himself in a more romantic mood."
"Romantic?" Maruso raised a brow in skepticism.
"Not romance," Lauren emphasized. "More like the adventurous notion of piracy."
He nodded, chuckling. "Got it."
Carlos was looking at Rudy. "Did our man raise a pirate flag?"
Rudy grumbled a hearty chortle. "Maybe he's ballsier than we thought."
Maruso finished his ice tea and stood up. "I've got to get back to town for a fishing party this afternoon."
"I thought you were retained for Carlos and Rudy," Lauren said. She slowly closed the diary.
"I am, but I have to at least give the appearance of still working."
"What about the union? Won't they get nosey if you don't report income from the museum?" She looked uncomfortably at Carlos, her voice lowering. "Are we on the level this time?"
"Of course we are," the curator said with a sniff. "You know better than to ask something like that, Lauren."
She also knew more. "Yes, but last summer—"
"If you must know," Carlos interrupted quickly, "Captain Maruso is completely legal. All monies are reported to the transportation union. Their records are open to anyone with a direct court order, and the only reason anyone would want to get an order is if Captain Maruso doesn't look like he's working."
"Which he is," she said drearily, reaching for her tea. "I understand." She added below her breath, "What a cover up."
"You wouldn't believe the arrangements we've had to make," Carlos said. He pulled the diary slowly toward him, nodding to her. "You'd better go with him to the dock. For appearance. Besides, we need the Jeep back for tonight."
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