Grinning, Gareth continued with his story. “Unable to free his ship, Teach took command of Adventure. He took all his treasure and half of his crew, which was all Adventure could carry. He marooned the rest.”
“Such a nice guy,” Bones said.
“Afterward, Teach briefly attempted to change his ways, at least on the surface. He purchased a house in the town of Bath, North Carolina, married a local girl, and purchased a pardon from the governor. But he couldn’t resist the pirate’s life. Hands and the remaining crew maintained a camp on Ocracoke Island, from which they would periodically conduct raids on shipping. Teach took part in many of these, and he regularly hosted visiting pirates, such as Charles Vane and Jack Rackham on the island. On those occasions he would throw massive parties, orgies really.”
Bones sat up straight. “You know, maybe I judged him too quickly.”
Gareth ignored him. “At some point, Hands was shot in the knee. Accounts vary, but the most reliable says that he retired to Bath to recuperate from his wounds. But he was eventually caught up in the same pirate raids in which Teach was beheaded and his crew killed or captured. He was taken to Williamsburg to stand trial, but at the eleventh hour he agreed to testify for the state in exchange for a pardon. His testimony resulted in the convictions of a number of corrupt government officials — those who had enabled Teach over the years.”
“I suppose he was the only man close enough to Teach to be able to give that kind of evidence,” Maddock mused, “but why wait until the very last minute to accept it? What changed?”
Gareth shrugged. “Some say stubbornness, other say it was misplaced loyalty to Teach.”
“The dude who shot him,” Bone said flatly.
“I discovered one account of the incident that claims Teach knew his crew’s days were numbered, and that he shot Hands so he would be forced to retire, in hopes that would save him from the hangman’s noose.”
Bones turned to Maddock. “Just so we’re clear, if you ever want me to retire, just say so. Don’t shoot me in the knee.”
“Knee? I’d aim about a foot-and-a-half higher.”
Bones shifted in his chair. “Dude, that’s not even funny.” He shot a quick glance at Gareth, who sat patiently, hands folded. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I give tours to schoolchildren, so I’m accustomed to interruptions.” He stared at Bones from beneath hooded lids, then burst out laughing. “Please forgive me. The two of you were trading insults, so I thought a rejoinder of my own would not go amiss.”
“It’s cool,” Bones said. “I get compared to a school kid every day. Maddock gets the same comparison, but only because of the size of his package.”
Gareth frowned. “Package? Oh, tackle!” He laughed again. “I must admit, you two are quite the pair. But returning to the subject at hand, I think the other so-called experts are wrong about Hands. At least, in respect to his reasons for turning state’s evidence.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I believe Israel Hands experienced a powerful religious conversion while in jail. His life after he left America proves that.”
“I thought he came to London and became a beggar,” Maddock said.
“I believe he took a voluntary vow of poverty, like a monk. He spent his time in and around St. Paul’s Cathedral. He attended worship services and spent the time in between wandering the docks, sharing his faith with the sailors he met there. At least, those who would give him the time of day.”
Maddock nodded thoughtfully. Having a ring belonging to King Solomon fall into one’s hands could certainly lead to a religious conversion. “Anything else you can tell us about his later life? Any family? Bequests?”
“None. He formed a strong friendship with an Anglican priest, who counseled him in spiritual matters. Hands often claimed he talked to ghosts. Likely he was haunted by the memories of those he killed during his days as a buccaneer.”
“What happened to him? Do you know where his grave is?”
“No one knows for certain, but I uncovered a rumor that the priest who had befriended him arranged for him to be buried somewhere beneath the cathedral.”
Maddock’s heart raced. “Any idea where? Or if it’s even true?”
“I can’t say, but no less than Sir Haggard himself believed it was.”
Maddock’s breath caught in his chest. It couldn’t be!
“Who did you say?”
“Sir Henry Rider Haggard. According to my research, he took quite an interest in Israel Hands. It’s odd, though. He didn’t write about pirates. He’s best known for…”
There was no need for Gareth to finish his sentence. Maddock and Bones did it for him.
“King Solomon’s Mines.”
Chapter 17
Caesar’s Rock was a tiny island just north of the upper Florida Keys. A part of Biscayne National Park, it was located in southern Biscayne Bay in the middle of “Caesar Creek,” the channel that separated Elliott Key from Old Rhodes key. It was unremarkable in every way — just a small, deserted island covered in a dense tropical forest. But to Avery, it appeared gloomy and forbidding as Sea Foam drew close.
“You really think we’re gonna find anything here?” Willis Sanders stood at the bow, arms folded, staring in the direction of the island.
“Based on what Jimmy overheard in the bar, Nomi’s organization thinks it’s worth checking out.”
Willis grinned down at her. “Girl, if your brother finds out what you’ve done, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Avery replied, feigning innocence.
“You stole his boat and his crew, you got his pet nerd playing James Bond, and you just might be walking into some serious danger.”
“That’s why you’re here,” she said sweetly, giving his powerful arm a squeeze. “Besides, Maddock agreed I could do some investigating, provided I take some of the crew with me.” Of course, Maddock had said nothing about commandeering his boat or turning crew member Corey Dean into a spy. But, he hadn’t told her not to do those things.
“Why exactly are we doing this at night?”
“I didn’t want Nomi to get here first. As soon as Jimmy overheard that conversation, he called me and I called you.”
The boat slowed and Matt Barnaby’s voice called out from the cabin.
“That’s as close as I can get. What’s our play?” The former Army Ranger filled out the final spot on Maddock’s crew.
“I guess somebody should stay with the boat?” Avery said.
“You asking or telling?” Willis laughed.
Avery made a face. “Telling. You and I go ashore. Matt remains with the boat and radios us if there’s trouble.”
“Cool with me,” Matt said. “If you two hurry up, we can stop in Key Largo for the night.”
“Man, if you sing that song…”
Willis raised his index finger in warning just as Matt belted out, “We had it all, just like Bogey and Bacall…”
Willis grimaced. “Time to get the hell out of here.”
A few minutes later, they rowed ashore and dragged their dinghy up onto the beach. Avery stared at the tree line, black and forbidding.
“You got a plan?” Willis asked. “Or are we just going to wander around until the sun comes up?”
“You didn’t have to come,” Avery snapped.
“Girl, if you think I could let you go by yourself, you don’t know your brother at all.”
“Fair enough. Matter of fact, I do have a plan.” She took out a flashlight and a topographical chart and pointed out a spot she had circled on the map. “This is the highest spot on the island and it’s almost at the center. It would be a logical place to construct a headquarters.”