“I won’t be that stupid next time.”
“Really? How would you ever know? You had no idea then. I told you we’re good at what we do. Think about that if you decide on a comeback. Every source you talk to, you’ll question in your mind. Every lead that comes your way, you’ll wonder. Is it real? Are they back? Is it going to happen again?”
The sorry SOB was right. He would always wonder. Everything that happened—it had destroyed his life, but it also destroyed something else.
His edge.
“You screwed with the wrong people,” the man said. “I came to tell you, so you’d know. Listen to this message and keep doing what you’re doing. Ghostwriting. That’s perfect for you, so long as you stay a ghost.”
And the man walked off.
———
BÉNE LISTENED AS HALLIBURTON ANSWERED HIS QUESTION.
“Moses Cohen was a pirate. One of the best. He ravaged Spanish shipping. His brother, Abraham, was an entrepreneur. The brothers were never close. They attended separate synagogues and there’s little in the records I’ve seen to link them. That’s what makes this document you have so interesting. By all accounts they didn’t care for each other, and here we have proof of that with Moses suing Abraham. Brother against brother.”
“Why is it important? Seems trivial.”
“Not at all. In fact, it could be critical.”
Oliver Cromwell died in 1658 and, as one diarist commented, “None but dogs cried.” His brand of Puritanism had left the people little to do except contemplate their sins and wail for forgiveness. Having had enough of misery, England looked to its exiled heir, Charles II. In 1660 Charles returned to a magnificent homecoming, one he interestingly compared to “the return of the Jews from Babylonian captivity.”
He was restored to the throne with but one problem.
The Crown was broke.
And so was England.
The Lord Protector Cromwell had bankrupted the nation.
To solve that problem, Charles turned to the Jews.
Edward I had expelled them 370 years earlier, and they remained virtually nonexistent until 1492, when Spain and Portugal issued their edicts of expulsion. Eventually, Jews found refuge in England and a protector in Cromwell, who allowed them to stay. With the king’s return, many English merchants sought re-banishment. But Charles, too, was tolerant and championed an act of Parliament that protected them.
The king was smarter than many believed. He realized that expelling the Jews would grant English merchants complete control over trade, which meant they could set prices as they saw fit. The presence of Jewish merchants countered that power. Also, by being tolerant, Charles acquired a group of friends with money and resources.
Abraham Cohen was in Holland when Charles regained the throne. He watched with great interest as the king’s Jewish policy was established. Jamaica was by then under British control, the Spaniards gone, so Abraham decided the time was right to approach the king. On March 5, 1662, Cohen and two other wealthy Dutch Jews—Abraham and Isaac Israel, a father and son—met with Charles.
The senior Israel told the king how he learned of Columbus’ lost mine from Jews on Jamaica when he was imprisoned there. This was shortly before the British invaded the island in 1655. He was about to be released from custody, so his fellow captives confided to him their dire situation.
The Columbus family’s hold on the island was gone. The Spanish had regained control and the Inquisition would shortly arrive. No longer would anyone protect Jamaican Jews. Thankfully, the community had taken precautions, secreting away its wealth in a location known only to a man identified as the Levite.
“It’s the great Admiral’s mine,” one captive Jew told Israel.
Columbus himself had found the location, and their wealth would stay hidden there until the Spanish were gone. The Jews then in custody encouraged Israel to promote a foreign invasion of Jamaica, seeing it as their only hope.
Which happened.
England claimed the island in 1655.
“You know where this mine is located?” the king asked.
“We think so,” Cohen said. “But Jamaica is a vast place.”
Charles was hooked. Reposing trust and confidence in Cohen’s abilities, he granted the man full power and authority to “search for, discover, dig, and raise a mine of gold, whether the same be opened or not opened.” Two-thirds of the find would go to Charles, one-third to his Jewish partners. Cohen also smartly secured English citizenship and a trade monopoly in brazilwood and pimiento spice, Jamaica’s two major exports at the time.
Cohen returned to Jamaica in 1663 with the Israels, ready to search. But after a year, with no mine found, they were accused of fraud and banished from the island.
“Cohen dazzled Charles II with dreams of gold,” Tre said. “What he was really after were those trade monopolies. That entire year, when they should have been searching for the mine, he spent making money off wood and spice.”
“All this is in that parchment?” Béne asked.
“The story of Abraham Cohen and how he manipulated Charles II is historic fact. Here, in these documents, we learn that Moses forced Abraham to reveal things about the mine during the lawsuit. That explains the governor’s involvement.”
“You said we might have something.”
His friend smiled. “For what he did to Charles II, Abraham Cohen was banished from Jamaica in 1664. If found here he would have been jailed.” Tre motioned with one of the parchments. “Yet he’s back in 1670, taking title to a tract of land. A tract his brother, Moses the pirate, thinks is vitally important.”
He saw the point. “You think Abraham actually found something during that year he was making money and came back to claim it?”
“It’s entirely possible.”
He liked Halliburton. They always seemed at ease with each other, and for Béne there were few people on the island who fell into that category. So he was not self-conscious about showing his intense interest.
“Can you search the archives?” he asked. “Find more?”
“It’s a mess, but I’ll give it a try.”
He clasped Tre on the shoulder. “Tonight. Please. This is important. It’s the closest I’ve ever come.”
“I know this is important to you, Béne.”
More than this man knew.
Much more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ALLE WATCHED AS MIDNIGHT STOPPED THE CAR AND BRIAN walked around to her side.
“Get out,” he said.
She shook her head.
Midnight shut off the engine and emerged into the Austrian night, leaving the headlights on.
Brian opened her door.
She cowered back across the rear seat. “Please. Leave me alone. I’ll scream. Come near me and I’ll scream.”
Brian stayed outside and crouched so she could see his face. “I’m not your enemy.”
Midnight bent down, too.
“Tell her,” Brian said to the other man.
“I was told to kill you.”
She’d been in Vienna nearly a month and had seen this black man almost every day. But that was the first time she’d ever heard his voice.
“By who?” she asked.
“Simon gave the order to Rócha. They want you to disappear. There’s no plane to Florida, at least not one for you.”