Wreckers Island (romantic suspense) (19 page)

Chapter XXIII

 

The Curator at the Royal Cornwall Museum was indeed thrilled
when a chortling Rupert Spencer walked into his office with the four students,
carrying boxes full of the kind of maritime riches he didn’t think he would see
in a lifetime.

Ex-military and in his late 50s, tweed
jacket and a floppy grey moustache ever so slightly curled at the ends, he
looked as you would expect a museum curator to look. He seemed a jovial, kindly
fellow, mused Louise, but not the sort she could ever visualise grinding
themselves hard into a woman. Maybe 30 years ago, perhaps. As for goofy Rupy,
she’d given him a lesson in life that day that he wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
She grinned to herself.

The Curator was fascinated by the find, and
in particular with the captain’s diary. He was most impressed that Dan had
managed to translate some of it – despite the fact that he was majoring in
French at university.

‘You Oxford chaps, you are the cream of the
crop, I’ll give you that. I’m a Durham man myself, jolly fine university but
not quite up there with the best. Perhaps that’s why I only rose to be curator
of the local museum – after an unspectacular career in the Army, that is,’ he
said, smiling ruefully, eyes twinkling through his pince-nez spectacles. ‘Mind
you, it’s the best place for me. I’m at home here amongst my glass display
cabinets and old books and art collections.

‘I tell you this, young people, this is most
definitely treasure if you ask me, both in terms of its legal definition and in
the vernacular sense of the word. I am thrilled by it and certainly will wish
to advise the Coroner of our desire to purchase should we be able to.

‘The hoard of gold and silver coins is super.
Look at those beautifully preserved Pieces of Eight. Some have actually been
cut into eighths, which is of course, exactly what they did, hence the name.
This is a marvellous slice of history. You might be interested to know that we
already have a collection of gold coins from the wreck of a Spanish ship – a
collection believed to date from the 14th to 15th century discovered in Praa
Sands, not far from where you are staying. It is likely to have come from Le
Kateryn Van Arnude which sank in Mount’s Bay in 1478.

‘We have some other remarkable coins in our
Numismatics section, including several Roman coin hoards. Rupert here, he’ll
spend hours poring over them with his magnifying glass and helping us
categorise them. Comes in his own free time as well, he does.’

I’ll bet, chuckled Louise to herself.

‘But you must excuse me, I get carried away
at times. We need to go through the items you have brought in carefully and
give you what is essentially a receipt – that way, you can feel confident to deposit
them here.’

It was not a five-minute task but Rupert and
the Curator couldn’t have been more helpful. After they were finished, Rupert
drove them to the jetty and Pete, the relaxed skipper of the council motorboat,
was summoned to sail them back to Wreckers Island.

‘It was an absolute delight to meet you
all,’ beamed Rupert as they stood on the jetty. ‘It was a remarkable day,’ he
said, glancing slyly at Louise, who was trying to avoid making eye contact.

‘I’ve got your details so I will keep in
touch with you. I will inform the Coroner on your behalf of your find so leave
that to me. He will write to you at your home addresses to let you know what
will happen next. Bear in mind that if he does hold an inquest, it will most
likely not take place for several weeks, although we are quite speedy here in
Cornwall. The important thing is that the treasure you have found is safely
under lock and key with your details officially logged as the finders and your
parents, Louise, noted down as owners of the land in question. You can now
resume your holiday and relax!’

‘Pah!’ came an ill-tempered voice behind
Rupert. Slouching on a bollard further along the jetty was Jake, scowling
unpleasantly.

‘Excuse me?’ said John, spinning round. He
might have known Jake would be manning the harbour walls, checking their
comings and goings.

‘You managed to outwit Felipe’s phantom
then? Funny that,’ sneered Jake.

‘Never you mind,’ shouted John. ‘The
treasure is now safely in the custody of the Royal Museum, locked in their
vaults. Not a scrap of it remains in our hands. Come with us and see for
yourself if you don’t believe me.’

‘Thieving scum, that’s what you be. The lot
of ya!’

‘We haven’t stolen anything,’ retorted Dan,
determined to back John up. ‘What we found we have handed over to the
authorities as required by law. It’s up to the Coroner now what happens to it. Feel
free to contact him yourself if you believe you have any rightful claim to make.’

‘Clear off, Jake,’ shouted Louise, furiously,
unwilling to indulge a man willing to force her into having sex, ‘or I’ll ring
the police right now and have a good long chat about you. Do you hear me? You
have 10 seconds to disappear before I call the police.’ She pulled her mobile
phone from her pocket.

Jake, who did not seem half so self assured
without Zak alongside him, slowly walked towards them, spat at Louise’s feet, then,
as requested, cleared off.

Rupert looked at them all, puzzled. ‘What an
unsavoury character. I gather he learnt of your find and sought to take it from
you?’

‘He and an accomplice overheard a
conversation we had in the pub on the night we made the discovery. The
following day, the pair of them came down the tunnel from the shore seeking to
make off with it. We got there in the nick of time,’ said John, tersely.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Rupert. ‘I
wouldn’t worry about them now. Opportunist crooks are always sniffing around
finds of antiquities but they soon melt away once any chance of stealing
artefacts is removed. I doubt he’ll trouble you again.’

As the four said their goodbyes, Rupert
turned a little awkwardly to Louise and, colouring slightly, said, ‘thank you
in particular, Louise, for your kind hospitality this morning and for showing
me around the lighthouse, it was a revelation and I am grateful to you for it.’

She looked at him quizzically, and a grudging
admiration swept aside her scorn. He wasn’t trying to be funny or clever, he was
grateful for an experience which he had clearly craved but never had. He seemed
to accept that Louise wouldn’t allow any more to come of it.

She squeezed his arm. ‘You’re a good man Rupert,
thanks for everything you’ve done today –
everything
,’ she said.

Rupert waved and grinned toothily at them as
the council motorboat roared away from Porthlevnack harbour, before returning
to his car. Jake, mercifully, was nowhere to be seen.

 

The boat was halfway across the bay when Dan
spotted, out of the corner of his eye, a couple of official-looking boats
moored at the far end, close to where he and John had dumped Zak’s body.

Numerous blue lights in the water flashed on
and off in a semi-circle. It looked like a police cordon of some sort. Ice-cold
fingers of fear stroked Dan’s neck. John had seen the lights too; so had the
skipper who seemed about to remark on it.

Just in time, Dan began to bluster about their
day and what an interesting time they’d had and how helpful Rupert had been.
John joined in too. The girls, meanwhile, were engrossed in a conversation of
their own.

‘Oh aye,’ said Pete. ‘He’s a good lad is our
Rupert with an absolute passion for archaeology. That’s the love of his life
you know. His only love you might say, I don’t think he’s spoken for, not sure
he ever will be. Still, each to their own, he might not be much of a one for
the ladies, but give him a couple of ancient artefacts and he’s in heaven.’

Louise pricked up her ears at that point and
smiled inwardly. She reckoned that gawky young Rupert might find more to turn
his head than Roman antiquities and such like from now on. Well, good luck to
him.

 

~~~~~

 

Safely back in the lighthouse, they felt
relieved that the treasure had gone and been placed into the trustworthy care
of the museum. Spellbinding though it was, they had felt vulnerable and anxious
as its custodians. Now it was no longer at risk of falling into the wrong hands.

‘Why don’t we go ashore tonight for a bite
to eat and a drink?’ suggested Louise. ‘I feel like a weight has been lifted
from me – we’re surely not in any danger from Zak and Jake now.’

Dan and John exchanged glances. They would
have liked to as well, but for them, burdened with knowledge they could not
share, they had less to feel cheerful about.

‘Do you know what I would like?’ countered
John, ‘a nice quiet barbecue out on the rocks on the seaward side of the
island, washed down with a couple of very cold beers.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Dan, ‘that sounds great. We
always tend to enjoy the view looking towards the shore, let’s go the other
side and gaze out to sea, to the far horizon!’

‘Hmm,’ said Louise. ‘Ok but I think you pair
are getting old before your time. We only have a couple of days left here, we
ought to make the most of them. I can’t believe that our time together has
passed so quickly.

‘Unless, oh you know, I’ve had the most
brilliant idea!’ continued Louise, her eyes shining. ‘Why don’t we stay on? I
mean, what’s stopping us? It’s only mid June, we have the whole summer holidays
stretching out ahead – the autumn term at Oxford doesn’t start until mid
October. My parents aren’t planning to come and stay here any time soon. Why
don’t we grab another week and do more exploring and pottering about together?’

 

Chapter XXIV

 

John and Dan were caught unawares. They glanced at each
other, unsure exactly how to scupper Louise’s suggestion tactfully and without
giving away too much.

A slightly awkward silence ensued and Louise
felt hurt, so did Emma, whose face had brightened at the idea. Apart from
anything else, didn’t their menfolk want to be with them?

‘Listen girls,’ said John, desperate to
stall the conversation until he and Dan had spoken privately, ‘Dan and I have
got on-going concerns about our presence here. Let’s get the barbie under way
and sit on those big flat rocks with a beer or a glass of wine and we’ll talk you
through what’s bugging us. If you girls prepare some salad and nibbles, Dan and
I will light the charcoal.’

‘Great, I love the old-fashioned division of
labour, welcome to the 18th century everyone! Dan will be dressing up as an
ancient mariner again soon!’ retorted Louise, cross with John.

It was quite a funny quip, save for the fact
that dubbing Dan the ‘ancient mariner’ had been Zak’s gag – his last ever, to
be precise. John and Emma shuddered at the unwelcome reminder.

‘I wonder what did happen to Zak in the end,’
said Emma, slowly.

‘Let’s talk about things later, ok?’ said
John. ‘Over a barbecue and a beer.’

At that moment Louise’s phone beeped. It was
a text message from Rupert. He had news for them. Louise read it out to the
others:

‘Spoken to coroner. 99% def be an
inquest. Pencilled in for Thurs, Oct 11. He’ll write to you formally tho 2 let
u no. Will be in touch when I no more. Best, R x’

‘Oh well,’ said Louse, quietly. ‘Nearly four
months to wait. It’s part of the court system remember – these things do take
time. At least we’ll know before we go back to college and we’ll get to meet again
for it, which will be nice.’

 

‘I know I must have sounded pretty sexist
earlier, sending the girls off like that,’ said John after Louise and Emma
returned to the lighthouse. ‘I thought it best for you and me to get our action
plan well rehearsed, so we’re both agreed on what exactly we should tell them.’

‘Surely we can’t tell them anything,’ said
Dan. ‘Wasn’t that the whole point of moving the body so we could keep everything
secret? We’ll have to stay on if we can’t give any plausible reason why we
should leave – we should see out the week at least.’

‘If anything,’ said John, staring out to
sea, ‘we ought to leave Wreckers Island as soon as possible – in other words,
tomorrow.’

‘Come on, what on earth will the girls say,
they’ll be so disappointed,’ objected Dan. ‘They no longer see any risk in us
being here, now that the treasure is safe and especially now they know that
Jake is fully aware.’

‘Yes but we know better, don’t we?’ said
John. ‘Zak and Jake aren’t the problem any more, especially not Zak. But we are
conspicuous here and at risk of attracting attention to ourselves. As we know
from the newspaper, the police found Zak’s body much more quickly than we
anticipated. That’s not good news. It allows them to pinpoint the time of his
death with far more accuracy and decomposition won’t have had time to conceal the
evidence of his head wound.

‘The police have also put out an appeal for
witnesses. We are likely to see a police boat chugging out our way soon with
detectives on board asking us a few routine questions, as they’ll put it. After
all, staying in a lighthouse gives us an excellent view of the coast. Perhaps
we might have seen something, they’ll ask.

‘With the four of us together, they’ll
probably tell us at least some of what they know and that they’ve identified
the body as a local man. They may even refer to his wound and Emma might start
putting two and two together. Wouldn’t you agree that she’s rather a vulnerable
and honest person who might struggle with that sort of conversation?’

Dan did agree. ‘You’re right – we can’t
afford to risk an encounter like that. But what reason would we give for
leaving so suddenly?’

‘I don’t know,’ said John, ‘but we’re going
to have to find one. If we can find a reason not to extend our stay, we can
find a reason to go home tomorrow. After all, think of the other implications
as each day passes here. News of Zak’s death will be flashing all round
Porthlevnack by now. Stay here and we’ll be staring Zak’s death in the face
from every newspaper billboard in the village and hearing about it in every pub
and café we walk in. The plain fact is, if we wish to keep his demise from
reaching Emma we need to go home tomorrow.’

Dan nodded. John was right, of course. Zak’s
untimely death would be big news in a close-knit Cornish fishing village like
Porthlevnack. ‘But what plausible reason can we possibly give?’

John sighed. Once again he was expected to do
all the thinking and make the tough decisions. ‘We need to find that plausible
reason. And we also need the barbecue lit. You do that while I do some
thinking.’

After a minute or two, John spoke. ‘Ok, I’ve
got a plan, it’s not great but it’s the best I can come up with. We tell them
that news of our treasure find is bound to get into the newspapers and possibly
even on TV now that it has been reported to both the council and Coroner – official
business of this kind is conducted in public and the find is now a matter of
public record.

‘This could bring treasure seekers and nosey
members of the public here to the island and swarming into the tunnel from the
shore. Even though the island is private there will be nothing stopping people
actually berthing a boat at the jetty. Within a day or two we could be
effectively living in a goldfish bowl.

‘To avoid that we persuade them that we
leave tomorrow but we will not only meet again in October for the treasure
inquest, we’ll come back to the lighthouse afterwards and resume our holiday.
We’ll be able to squeeze in a good few days in before the new term.

‘Why not, when you think about it? That way,
the girls understand that we’re acting out of the best of motives and be
delighted at the thought of returning here in early autumn. Surely that’s a
workable plan. What could possibly go wrong?’

‘I can’t think,’ replied Dan. ‘Nothing
hopefully, although knowing our luck, anything. It has the merit of not being a
barefaced lie but it’s desperately far-fetched. Look, aren’t we making this a
bit difficult for ourselves? Who says that Zak is no longer any threat? If Zak
were still alive maybe he would have ditched Jake as his accomplice and
wouldn’t be aware the treasure’s been moved to safety. He might be poised to
launch a counter-attack. Obviously, he’s dead, but the girls don’t know that.’

‘Ok,’ said John, thoughtfully. ‘Then . . .’

It was too late. Louise and Emma arrived
laden with trayfuls of food, including some fine-looking sausages and burgers
to put on the barbecue and beers all round. John would now have to think on his
feet and make things up as he went along.

‘Girls,’ said John, ‘I do not want us to
extend our stay, in fact I would like us to go home tomorrow.’ Louise and Emma stared
at him, horrified.

John carried on, trying to sound more
confident than he felt. ‘I believe that Zak and Jake may have gone their
separate ways and that we remain at possible risk from Zak who is the more
dangerous of the two. He may not find out from Jake that we have handed the
treasure over. He might think we’ve still got it here, piled on the coffee
table, ready for the taking. I don’t want to wake each day fearing that he’ll
suddenly turn up in a powerful motor boat.

‘Zak will be walking the streets as we speak
feeling bruised, humiliated and tricked,’ fibbed John. ‘He’ll be like an angry
bear with, quite literally, a sore head. That does not bode well for us. He
can’t rob us of our treasure but he can rob us of our peace of mind. He can
make us feel like we’re living under siege. We are isolated here and it will
take a while for help to arrive should we need it. I think it is better that we
are seen to quit Wreckers Island and disappear.

‘Let me finish, Louise,’ said John as she
opened her mouth. ‘Here’s the good bit – why don’t we return here for a week or
more in October? Dan and I would both love to. We’ve got to return to Cornwall
for the inquest – what’s to stop us returning here afterwards when everything
will have quietened down and resuming our holiday?’

Louise, still feeling guilty that she was to
blame over Zak and Jake, was in a weak position to argue. Dan whispered in
Emma’s ear that he might be able to pitch a tent somewhere near her place in
Cheshire in the coming week or so, if she’d like him to.

‘Ok,’ said Louise, finally. ‘I suppose it
makes sense. It wouldn’t be much of a relaxing time from now on if we’re
constantly looking out to sea, worrying. And it would be great to return here
in autumn.’ Emma nodded.

As the sunk sank out of sight over the
Cornish mainland and shadows lengthened above a darkening sea, the four
students sipped their cans of beer on what was, for now, their final evening on
Wreckers Island. They were sad to be leaving the following day but content that
it was the right thing to do, given the circumstances.

 

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