Jillian smiled, tears brimming in her eyes. “Thank you. I just finished up at the funeral home. No memorial service, no burial, according to his wishes. He wanted his ashes sprinkled in Boston Harbor on Independence Day.” Tears welled in her eyes, so Dane changed the subject.
They filled the next few minutes with small talk, Dane and Bones telling Jillian about their service in the Navy, and she, in turn talking about her father and his interests. Finally, the conversation turned to the lantern.
“What can you tell us about this missing lantern?” Dane asked.
Jillian exhaled, her face downcast.
“I moved back home not long ago, and I quickly realized the lantern was Dad’s passion, maybe you could call it his obsession.” She paused. “And I suspect it was his downfall.” She stared straight ahead, her eyes cloudy. “Some professors only want to write. Others just want to teach. Dad loved to search for history.”
“What set him on this particular search?” Bones asked.
“He was always interested in the history of Boston: how she was formed, how the natives handled the influx of colonists…”
“I could tell you how natives feel about colonists, but I don’t want to sound like my grandfather.” Bones’ smile didn’t reach his eyes.
One corner of Jillian’s mouth twitched, but she came no closer to a smile than that. “He was fascinated with studying how Boston evolved from colony to town to city, especially leading up to the American Revolution. That was his favorite period in history.”
“Mine too.” Dane couldn’t get enough of Colonial America and the Revolutionary War.
“Anyway, Dad spent most of his time focusing on the single most important aspect of our country’s history: breaking away from King George and the throne of England. Of course, it all started April 18. 1775.”
Dane and Bones listened as Jillian seemed to transform into a history professor. She spoke with the confidence of a well-educated woman. Dane figured her to be in her mid-thirties. She touched on many of the things Remillard had told them, but they didn’t interrupt her. She seemed to find the experience cathartic, as if the retelling purged her painful memories.
“When the first lantern was rediscovered, he became a man possessed.”
Dane scratched his chin and stared up at Samuel Adams. The mystery had taken hold of him, and he needed to solve it. He leaned back a little to get a better look at Jillian. Something told him that behind that pretty face laid a strong, determined woman. In spite of her grief and apparent fear, she clearly had not given up on her father’s research. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have met them today.
“I know our involvement in this is strange, but I gave your father my word that I’d find the lantern. I won’t deny, I’d probably want to do it anyway. I love the Colonial period and I’ve never solved a mystery before. I guess I just want to make sure you understand that we’re not trying to steal his glory or anything. I just want to see this thing through.”
Jillian narrowed her eyes and seemed to look through Dane. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I can trust you. Besides, Dad had been getting weird phone calls. I’d feel better if I wasn’t alone in this.”
“So, you intend to search for the lantern?” Bones asked.
“I want to finish what he started.”
“Right now, the only possible lead we have is the Somerset. Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything to point us in the right direction?”
“Not much. He was paranoid about his project, so he kept his knowledge in his head. However, I have this.” Jillian opened the leather satchel and withdrew an item wrapped in a hand towel. She unwrapped it, and held it out for them both to see. Sunlight gleamed off its long silver surface.
“What is it?” Bones leaned in for a better look.
“It’s a butter knife.” Dane frowned, wondering why she would show them this.
“It’s not just any butter knife,” Jillian corrected. She turned it, hesitated for half a heartbeat, and handed it to Dane. “Look at it closely.”
The knife felt surprisingly heavy, but was otherwise unremarkable. He turned it over in his hands, and then held it up for a closer look. A pair of initials, clear as day, rested right above the hilt. “Whoa!”
“Did you see your reflection?” Bones asked. “I hate to break it to you, Maddock, but you’re not that handsome.”
“Take a look for yourself.” Dane held the knife out so Bones could see the initials.
“What does P.R. stand for? Was this made in Puerto Rico?”
This time, Jillian did manage a smile. “Paul Revere. According to my father, this is a piece of flatware that he made for Samuel Adams sometime before the Revolution.”
“How did your father get his hands on it?” Dane asked.
“He stole it.”
“Huh?” Dane and Bones chorused a little too loudly for Jillian’s liking. She looked around, as if searching for eavesdroppers.
“Sorry,” Dane said.
“It’s all right. I’m just on edge. Anyway, Dad stole this knife from the Paul Revere House.” She lowered her voice as she spoke. “I don’t know the whole story. He just said it was special, and he would put it to a better use than just lying there on display.”
“What was so special about the knife?” Dane asked.
“There was something odd my father saw in it, though I don’t know what.”
“So he picked it up.”
“And ran with it. His research indicated that Revere made place settings for many important men of that time: John Hancock, John Adams, and James Swan. Pretty much all the Sons of Liberty.”
“It’s got a weird edge to it,” Bones observed. “Instead of the fine serrations on one side, like you’d normally see, the grooves are on both sides, and they’re kind of square.” He handed the knife back to Jillian. “What’s the connection between this knife and the lanterns?”
“That’s just it. He never told me.” Tears once again welled in her eyes. “And now he’s gone.”
CHAPTER 6
“So, we have to figure out the connection between a butter knife and a lantern.” Dane shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he had just said.
“Paul Revere made them both?” Bones asked.
“It is entirely possible,” Jillian replied, back into teaching mode. “Revere also worked with brass, and if the other lantern is any indication, the second one would be made of the same material.”
“That’s not much of a connection though, is it?” Bones waved at a pesky swarm of gnats that had taken a liking to him.
“Did anyone get a good look at the first lantern when they found it? Were there any markings like this on it?” Dane asked, pointing to the Revere brand on the knife.
Jillian shrugged. “That, I couldn’t tell you.”
“Do you have anything else that could help us?”
Jillian reached back into the satchel and pulled out two items: a folded map, as well as a hardcover book entitled Historic Lighthouses of Cape Cod. She handed both over to Dane.
He immediately opened the map. Bones looked over his shoulder.
“What is it?” Bones asked.
“It’s a map of the Freedom Trail,” Jillian said. The Freedom Trail incorporated many of Boston’s most important historical sites, and numbered among the city’s most popular tourist destinations.
“There are some spots that have an X drawn through them,” Bones noted. “What’s that about?”
“I suppose those are places that my father has already searched for the lantern.”
Dane tapped his chin and looked over the map, noting the numerical locations and matching them up with the key in the lower right-hand corner. Many of the spots, the late Professor Andrews had searched. He had already marked out the Park Street Church, King’s Chapel, the Old Corner Book Store, the Old South Meeting House, and the Boston Massacre site. He looked toward Faneuil Hall. The professor hadn’t searched it yet, he thought.