“I only saw one end and didn’t get a very good look. You were hoping it was a bass boat, weren’t you?”
His mind was focused on what he’d just heard. “An aluminum canoe with obvious dents. Like someone used an axe to punch holes?”
“I’m not sure, but whoever did it went to a lot of trouble. If they’d used just one anchor, the bow or stern would stick out of the water.”
“Then it was stolen. They’d probably knock holes. You just didn’t see them.”
“I don’t know what canoes have for flotation, but it’s generally riveted into the forward and aft bulkheads. In fact, whoever did it had to get in the water and force it under before they tied off. Weird-why would thieves care enough to bother? They’d either keep it or sell it or cut the thing loose when they were done.”
Belton said, “It certainly wasn’t to collect insurance.”
I shook my head while thinking I should have mustered the nerve to do another dive.
“A damn canoe,” he muttered. “But on the fish finder the thing looked a lot bigger to me. Rectangular, sort of, you know?”
I said, “The water is murky once you get down. There could be something else on the bottom. Maybe the canoe is next to another boat.”
Thinking aloud, Belton said, “A rental boat-a canoe with a motor. They rent canoes everywhere.” He glanced back to where a kayak and a square-stern canoe lay upside down on the bank. Nearby were two small aluminum boats with kicker motors. Also rentals.
I said, “The odd-looking one is called a Gheenoe. If you hoped to find a boat from the Civil War, why is a motor so important?”
The old man’s focus had shifted to the miniature blondes. They were on a dock, walking single file, while Carmelo, on the next dock, hosed his boat. He appeared to be in a hurry.
Belton said, “That man’s not as stupid as he pretends.”
“No, he’s not. I sensed you two had a falling-out. I hope it wasn’t because of me. I didn’t mean to hit him in the face with that snorkel. And it was just dumb of me not to notice those manchineel trees.”
He replied, “We should call the police,” which startled me until I realized he was referring to the sunken canoe.
“I was going to tell Birdy about it first. But I’ll do whatever you want.”
“It would be nice to know more before we bother the police. Do you think there could have been a… well, something inside the canoe?”
I said, “Like a registration, you mean? I didn’t check for hatches.”
“No, you said it was floating upside down. Something could be jammed under there. Stuck, if it was buoyant.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. The image of a dead body came into my mind, floating in darkness, while I battled to find my way out.
Belton put it more delicately. “A cooler with identification, possibly, or a bag. If credit cards are missing, that would mean something. Unless you searched from one end to the other-you were certainly down there long enough-I hate to scramble the police for something that has a benign explanation.”
I said, “I should have done a couple more dives. Or thrown an anchor, we could have snagged the thing and pulled it up to get registration numbers.” I hesitated before adding, “I’ll go back, if you want-but what about him?” Carmelo had pushed his boat away, ignoring the two tiny women who watched him start the engine.
Belton understood my meaning. “Your intuition is uncanny, my dear. What to do indeed.”
“I knew there was a problem between you two.”
“Oh, there is. But he doesn’t know yet. This morning, I saw him talking to Theo. This was before Theo’s big scene with Dr. Babbs-but after I told him to stay away from the guy.”
I said, “Told Carmelo to stay away from Theo.”
“That’s right-him and anyone else who might take advantage of what I found in that cistern. I suspected those two have some kind of private deal going. Now I know. I was taking my morning walk and there they were, sitting like kings, on his bass boat. That guilty look people get sometimes? I pretended like I didn’t see, just kept walking. Don’t forget, I exchanged several e-mails with Theo before coming here.”
“You surprised them?”
“Not intentionally. Let’s call it a stroke of good luck.”
I agreed with Belton’s instincts but not his reasoning. “I’m not taking sides, but I don’t see anything wrong with people talking to whoever they want. And, without Carmelo, you wouldn’t have found the cistern, let alone those bottles. On the other hand, I see your point-there is something about Theo that-”
“I lied to you about the cistern,” Belton said, then softened it with a sigh. “Well, I didn’t exactly lie. Carmelo was the one who was lying. He didn’t know the place existed until I showed him satellite photos. The deep spot on the river? Yes, he knew. But not the old homestead. Even then I had to help him with the GPS. He made up that story about deer hunting when he realized I might have found something valuable. His way of staking a claim, I suppose.”
“But he didn’t make up the story about the manchineel trees,” I said.
“About being burned? He might have. He’s a lot smarter than he lets on-and he does know that river. He tried to scare you, Hannah. That’s what I think. He used those little apples as an excuse. A double entendre, hidden meaning. See? The man’s shrewd.”
“Because he didn’t want me to go into the water? Then why take us there in the first place?”
“Carmelo thinks I’m a naïve old man, which is to my advantage. Being underestimated is always an advantage, so I’m happy to keep him happy. That’s why I passed along his deer-hunting story.”
We were on a path that would soon exit into the clearing where RVs and campers were parked. I stopped. “You’re paying him? A guide should keep his clients happy, not the other way around. What’s this really all about?”
Belton urged patience with a gesture. “For now, I need Carmelo’s knowledge and his boat. Unless”-he paused to think-“well… unless you’re willing to drive me around in one of those little rental outboards. I have Carmelo booked for two more days, but I’d rather pay you.”
It was one of those bright-idea moments that caused the man to smile but only made me suspicious. I said, “There’s something you’re not telling me. In fact, there’s a lot you’re not telling me.”
“I admitted I have a secret-you don’t remember?”
“Of course I do. And I’m not taking you back there unless I know the whole story. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to dive that spot again.”
“Not if it puts you at risk. Can we discuss it later? Tonight, I’ll buy you dinner and a good bottle of wine, but right now, dear, I need a shower and a nap.”
Belton Matás had a wide amiable face that was disarming and he knew it-as did I. He was also an old man in poor health who was exhausted. I didn’t want to push too hard, but I had come close to drowning after all. “Save the whole story for later,” I said. “I’m fine with that. For now, a summary will do.”
“You are one stubborn woman.”
I replied, “Would you rather spend tomorrow with Carmelo? Or in a boat with me?”
The man had a sense of humor and surrendered with a sigh. “Okay, here are the bare basics: Theo and another person were hunting for the same thing. Theo’s still after it. That’s why we exchanged e-mails. Carmelo doesn’t own that boat, it’s Theo’s-or he at least made the down payment. Happily, they both think I’m a fool.”
I waited, thinking he would say more. He didn’t. “That’s it? You’re talking about the money stolen by the bank robber, John Ashley. Thirty-five thousand in silver.”
Belton shook his head. “No, you’re wrong. Remember Dr. Babbs’s story about a Civil War payload? That’s part of my secret. The story’s not a myth. I have copies of documents; an officer’s letters, in my office. A Union paymaster, 1864. He was sent to purchase cattle and pay troops at Fort Myers. When he was ambushed, he dumped the gold rather than let the Confederates take it-actually, what they called the Cow Cavalry. Cowboys, not Confederate soldiers.”