"Warren."
"Right. I passed the test."
She smiled and took my hand. "Come look at yourself in the mirror."
She led me into the hall, then into the eighteenth-century bedroom. I looked at myself in a wall mirror with the pirate hat, eye patch, and sword. "I look stupid."
"You really do."
"Thanks."
She said, "I'll bet you never did it on a feather bed."
"No, I never did."
"You have to keep the hat and patch on."
"Is this my fantasy or yours?"
She laughed, then before I knew it, she was getting out of her clothes, which she left on the floor. She kept the cocked hat on, and holding it with one hand, she tumbled into bed, onto the quilt comforter, which was probably an expensive antique that had never had sex before.
I played along with the game, leaving the hat and patch on as I undressed.
As I said, she was tall with long legs, and the beds in those days were short, so her head and hat were at the headboard and her feet were touching the footboard. It looked kind of funny and I laughed.
"What are you laughing at?"
"You. You're bigger than the bed."
"Let's see how big you are."
Anyway, if you've never done it on a feather mattress, you're not missing much. I can see why no one in those old portraits on the walls is smiling.
CHAPTER 22
Later, in the archive room, sans costumes, we both sat at the oak table. Emma had a mug of herb tea that smelled like rubbing liniment.
She had gathered some material-original documents encased in plastic, some old books, and some reproductions of historical letters and documents. She was perusing her papers as she sipped her tea. I was in a typical male postcoital mood, thinking I should be sleeping or leaving. But I could do neither; I had work to do.
Emma asked me, "What exactly are you interested in?"
"I'm interested in pirate treasure. Is there any around here?"
"Sure. Almost anywhere you dig, you'll find silver and gold coins, diamonds and pearls. The farmers say it makes plowing difficult."
"I can imagine. But seriously." I hate it when people are smartasses
She said, "There are a number of pirate legends and truths associated with this area. Would you like to hear the most famous? The story of Captain Kidd?"
"Yes, I would. I mean, not from year one, but as Captain Kidd relates to this place and to buried treasure."
"Okay… first of all, Captain William Kidd was a Scotsman, but he lived in Manhattan with his wife, Sarah, and their two children. In fact, he lived on Wall Street."
"Still full of pirates."
"Kidd was not really a pirate. He was, in fact, a privateer, hired by Lord Bellomont, who was then governor of Massachusetts, New York, and New Hampshire." She took a sip of tea. "So, with a royal commission, Captain William Kidd set sail in 1696 from New York harbor to search for pirates and seize their plunder. Bellomont put up a lot of his own money to buy and outfit Kidd's ship, the Adventure Galley. There were also rich and powerful backers of this enterprise in England, including four English lords and King William himself."
"I see trouble coming. Never go into a joint venture with the government."
"Amen."
I listened as she related this tale by heart. I wondered if Tobin knew this story, and if so, did he know it before or after he met Emma Whitestone? And why would anybody seriously think a three-hundred-year-old treasure could still be buried and/or found? Kidd's treasure, as I'd discovered by talking to Billy at Mattituck Inlet, was a dream, a child's story. Of course, the treasure may have existed, but there was so much myth and legend surrounding it, as Emma had said in the Cutchogue Diner, and so many false maps and clues, that it had become meaningless over the last three centuries. Then I remembered the guy who found Charles Wilson's letter in the Public Records Office… so maybe Tobin and the Gordons had tumbled on to some real hard evidence.
Emma went on, "So after a lot of bad luck in the Caribbean, Kidd sailed to the Indian Ocean to search for pirates. There, he plundered two ships owned by the Great Mogul of India. On board were fabulous riches, worth in those days about two hundred thousand pounds. Today, that could be twenty million dollars."
"Not a bad day's work."
"No. Unfortunately, however, Kidd had made a mistake. The Mogul was allied with the king, and he complained to the British government. Kidd defended his actions by saying the Mogul's ships were sailing under French passes, and England and France were at war at the time. So even if the Mogul's ships weren't pirate ships, they were technically enemy ships. Unfortunately for Kidd, the British government had a good relationship with the Mogul through the British East India Company, which did big business with the Mogul. So Kidd was in trouble, and the only thing that was going to get him out of trouble was the two hundred thousand pounds' worth of loot."
"Money talks."
"Always has."
Apropos of money, Fredric Tobin popped into my head again. While I wasn't exactly jealous of Emma's past relationship with him, I thought it would be nice if I could get Freddie fried in the electric chair. Now, now, John.
Emma continued. "So, William Kidd sailed back to the New World. He stopped in the Caribbean where he learned he was a wanted man himself, charged with piracy. Thinking ahead, he left about a third of his booty in the West Indies in the care of a person he could trust. Many of his crew wanted no part of this problem, so they took their share of the loot and stayed in the Caribbean. Kidd then bought a smaller ship, a sloop called the San Antonio, and sailed back to New York-to answer the charges. On the way, more of his crew wanted to be put ashore with their share, which they were, in Delaware and New Jersey. But Kidd still had a fantastic amount of treasure on board, worth today perhaps ten or fifteen million dollars."
I asked, "How do you know that he had that much treasure on board?"
"Well, no one knows for sure. These are guesses based partly on the Mogul's complaint to the British government, which may have been inflated."
"Moguls lie."
"I suppose. You know, aside from what the treasure is worth ounce for ounce, consider that some of the jewelry must be museum quality. Consider, too, that if you took a simple gold coin of that era, worth maybe a thousand dollars, and put the coin in a presentation case with a certificate authenticating that it was part of Captain Kidd's treasure, you could probably get double or triple for it."
"I see you took marketing at Columbia."
She smiled, then looked at me a long time. She said, "This is about the Gordon murders, isn't it?"
Our eyes met. I said, "Please continue."
She stayed silent a moment, then went on. "All right… we know from documents and public records that Kidd then sailed into Long Island Sound from the eastern end, and that he landed at Oyster Bay, where he made contact with a James Emmot, who was a lawyer famous for defending pirates."
"Hey, my ex-wife works for that firm. They're still in the same business."
She ignored this and continued. "At some point, Kidd contacted his wife in Manhattan, who joined him on board the San Antonio. We know that at this time all the treasure was still on board."
"You mean the lawyer didn't get it yet?"
"Actually, Emmot was paid a generous sum by Kidd to defend him against the piracy charge."
I watched Emma Whitestone as she spoke. In the lamplight of the archive room, with papers piled in front of her, she looked and almost sounded schoolmarmish. She reminded me of some of the female instructors I know at John Jay-self-assured, knowledgeable, cool, and competent in the classroom, which somehow made them seem sexy and sensual to me. Maybe I have this schoolteacher hangup from the sixth grade, specifically Miss Myerson, who I still have naughty dreams about.