“What have you found on these dives?” Angelo leaned toward him, an intense look in his eyes.
“Again, almost nothing. We figure the cargo gradually spilled out onto the seabed between the place the ship went down and the place it turned up off of Bintan several days later. Over time, the currents will have scattered it pretty wide.
Angelo, without changing expression, buried the cigarette into the exposed flesh of Corey’s upper arm. Corey screamed, as much in surprise, Bones supposed, as from pain.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Bones snarled, jerking in his bonds.
“I did not ask you what you think happened to the cargo. I asked what you found. You will answer me specifically and explicitly.” Angelo’s eyes now held a slightly demented look.
“Fine.” Bones pretended to rack his brain, though their take had been so small that he could probably rattle off the list without a second thought. “Two statues, both in poor condition. Each of Middle Eastern origin.”
“What country?” Angelo snapped.
“Not my specialty.” Bones shrugged, using the motion to mask his struggling with his bonds. “We’ll have them checked out when we get back.”
“No. We will have them checked out when we return. You will not be returning.”
“Whatever,” Bones pretended to dismiss Angelo’s words with a shrug, using the motion to twist against the ropes around his wrist. He felt them give just a bit. “We also found a small, ornate wooden box that had probably contained someone’s personal papers once upon a time.”
“There were no papers?” Angelo leaned toward him again, frowning as he spoke. Suspicion dripped from his words. “You are absolutely certain of this? I caution you. No attempt to deceive me will work. You will succeed only in making your friend suffer.”
“It was a wooden box, genius,” Bones said. “It filled with water. Whatever was in there has pretty much dissolved into some mush in one of the corners. You’re welcome to scrape it off and try to read it if you like.”
For a moment, Bones thought that Angelo was going to punch him, or burn Corey again, but the dark-haired man relaxed visibly and nodded for him to continue.
“Seven coins… no, eight…no, it was seven.” He was running out of stalling tactics.
“Seven or eight. I do not care! Get on with it.”
“Sorry, you said to be explicit.” Bones had worked his wrists looser. He had to be careful to keep Angelo from noticing any movement. “Beyond that, we’ve found some dishes, a pistol, and a small cannon that might have been kept aboard the Dourado for defense, but we aren’t sure about that. We couldn’t have raised it, anyway. That’s everything.” Having finished his list, he stared at Angelo defiantly. “What else do you want to know?”
“What else?” The man seemed agitated now. He stamped his foot and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“I told you, that’s everything,” Bones said. “Of course, we’re not finished with our search. Who knows what else we’ll find if you let us keep working?”
Angelo did not seem satisfied with the answer. He began pacing again. After a moment, he stopped and scrutinized the map on the wall. He dropped what was left of his cigarette on the floor, and put his finger on the site of the wreck. Silently he traced the path they had marked out on the map.
“Where is the rest of your crew?” He asked, almost nonchalantly. Bones did not know how to respond. Angelo didn’t wait long before he continued. “Come now. I know that you are missing both Mr. Maddock and Ms. Maxwell.”
Bones relaxed a bit. So they didn’t know about Willis. That was a point for their side.
“They went back to the states.” He wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had the resources to know where they had gone.
“Why did they go back?” His voice took on an impatient tone.
“There was a death. Someone in Kaylin’s family. I think it was maybe her cousin or somebody. Dane went with her, since she’s been attacked before.” He stared intensely at Angelo. “But I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”
“You are not being completely truthful with me, Mr. Bonebrake,” Angelo said. “Mr. Maddock and Ms. Maxwell left because you found what you were looking for, didn’t they?”
“What?” Bones didn’t know what else to say.
“You were left behind as a ruse, continuing the search so it would seem to outsiders that you had not found that for which you were searching.”
“We’re not looking for any one thing.” Bones’ searched for a way to stall Angelo further. “We’re just excavating the wreck. Kaylin’s father had researched it all of his life. It was his pet project, and she wanted to finish what he started.”
Angelo produced his own lighter, lit another cigarette and moved back to Corey’s side. He knelt down and held the burning end next to Corey’s left eye. He gripped Corey’s hair in the other hand.
“My patience is at an end. I will know what you found, or I will blind this man.”
“We didn’t find anything,” Corey grunted, trying to jerk his head away. “He’s telling you the truth. Everything we’ve found is on board the ship.”
Angelo thought this over. He did not, however, move the cigarette away from Corey’s head or loosen his grip. “For argument’s sake, let us say that I believe you. Answer this, Mr. Bonebrake; what is it you expected to find on this wreck? And no more lies about not looking for one specific thing. There was something special aboard the Dourado. Tell me what it was.”
Bones could tell that the time for stalling was at an end. As he watched Angelo push the hot ash of the cigarette ever closer to his friend’s eye, he hoped Willis had come up with a plan.
CHAPTER 12
“I can’t get any of them.” Dane snapped his phone closed and slammed it down on the table. “I don’t know what’s going on!”
“We’ve notified the authorities in Singapore. There’s nothing else we can do,” Kaylin said. “Besides, if you smash your cell, they definitely won’t be calling you anytime soon.”
“I shouldn’t have left them,” he muttered, the feeling of helplessness was driving him crazy. Her assurances didn’t make him feel any better. He stood up and walked across the room they had rented under a false name in a rundown roadside inn. Reaching the far wall, he turned and stalked back to the window. “I need to do something. I can’t stand waiting around like this.”
“You’re not accomplishing anything by walking around the room. Sit down and help me with this letter.” She sat at a small table, rickety and badly stained, comparing the letter Dane had found against a Portuguese-English dictionary they had picked up at a local bookstore.
“I don’t know any of that stuff,” he grumbled. He slumped down in the cheap, fake leather chair across from her, feeling every bump against his back. He folded his arms across his chest, and stared. He knew he was acting childish, but the frustration he felt at being unable to help his friends, or even know what was wrong with them, was almost more than he could bear. But he also realized it was pointless to sit and complain about something over which he had no control.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Here. See what you can make of these.” Kaylin slid her notebook across the table to him.
He flipped it open to her copies of the sketches they had found in Covilha’s books. His eyes took them in with only moderate interest. He exhaled long and loud, sighing impatiently.
“I don’t know what we’re going to learn from these,” he complained. They were just doodles, after all.
“And you never will if you don’t shut up and get to work,” Kaylin snapped, not looking up at him.