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.
Anyway, Emma continued, "Mr. Emmot went to Boston on Kidd's behalf and met with Lord Bellomont. Emmot delivered a letter that Kidd had written to Bellomont, and also gave Bellomont the two French passes that were on the Great Mogul's two ships, proving that the Mogul was double-dealing with the English and French, and therefore the ships were fair game for Kidd."
I asked, "How did Kidd know that when he attacked the ships?"
"Good question. It never came out in his trial."
"And you're saying that Kidd's lawyer turned over these passes, this important defense evidence, to Bellomont?"
"Yes, and Bellomont, for political reasons, wanted Kidd hanged."
"Fire that lawyer. You should always give photocopies and keep the originals."
She smiled. "Yes. The originals were never produced at Kidd's trial in London, and without those French passes, Kidd was convicted and executed." She added, "The passes were found in the British Museum in 1910."
"A little late for the defense."
"For sure. William Kidd was basically framed."
Tough break. But what happened to the treasure aboard the San Antonio?"
"That's the question. I'll tell you what happened after Emmot went to Lord Bellomont in Boston, and since you're a detective, you tell me what happened to the treasure."
"Okay. I'm on the spot."
She went on, "Emmot, not a very good attorney apparently, got the impression from Lord Bellomont that Kidd would be treated fairly if he turned himself in at Boston. In fact, Bellomont wrote a letter to Kidd which he gave Emmot to deliver. The letter says, among other things…" She read from a reproduction in front of her, " 'I have advised with his Majesty's council, and they are of the opinion that if you be so clear as you have said, that you may safely come hither and be equipped and fitted out to go and fetch your other ship, and I make no manner of doubt but to obtain the King's pardon for you.' "
"Sounds like royal poopy to me," I said.
Emma nodded and continued from Lord Bellotnont's letter to Kidd, " 'I assure you on my word and on my honor I will perform nicely what I have now promised, tho' this I declare beforehand that whatever treasure of goods you bring hither, I will not meddle with the least bit of them, but they shall be left with such trusty persons as the council will advise until I receive orders from England how they shall be disposed of.' "
Emma looked up at me and asked, "Would that get you to come hither to Boston to answer a hanging charge?"
"Not me. I'm a New Yorker. I can smell a rat a mile away."
"So could William Kidd. He was a New Yorker and a Scotsman. But what was he going to do now? He was a man of some substance in Manhattan, he had his wife and two children on board the sloop, and he felt he was innocent. More importantly, he had the money — a third of it down in the Caribbean and the rest on board the San Antonio. He intended to use this treasure to bargain for his life."
I nodded. It was interesting, I thought, how little some things had changed in three hundred years. Here's a situation where the government hires this guy to do its dirty work, he does part of the job but by mistake he creates a political problem for the government, so they try to get not only their money back, but also his fair share, then they frame him, and finally hang him. But somewhere along the line, most of the bucks slipped through their hands.
Emma continued, "Meanwhile, Kidd kept his ship moving, sailing back and forth through the Sound, from Oyster Bay to Gardiners Island and as far as Block Island. It was during this time that the ship apparently got a little lighter."
"He was dumping the loot."
"That's what seems to have happened, and that's how all the legends about buried treasure got started." She said, "Here's a man with about ten or fifteen million dollars' worth of gold and jewels on board, and he knows he can be captured at sea at any time. He's got a small ship with only four cannon. It's fast, but no match for a warship. So, what would you do?"
"I think I'd make a run for it."
"He's got almost no crew left, and he's short on provisions. His wife and children are on board."
"But he's got the money. Take the money and run."
"Well, that's not what he did. He decided to turn himself in. But he's not stupid, so he decides to hide the loot — remember, this is the share that Bellomont, the four lords, and the king are to get for their investment. This treasure now becomes Kidd's life insurance."
I nodded. "So he buried the loot."
"Correct. In 1699, there was very little population outside of Manhattan and Boston, so Kidd had thousands of places he could land and safely bury treasure."
"Like Captain Kidd's Trees."
"Yes. And farther east, there are Captain Kidd's Ledges, which are probably a section of the bluffs since there are no actual ledges or cliffs on Long Island."
I sat up. "You mean, there's a part of the bluffs called Captain Kidd's Ledges? Where?"
"Someplace between Mattituck Inlet and Orient Point. No one really knows for certain. It's just part of the whole myth."
"But some of it is true. Right?"
"Yes, that's what makes it interesting."
I nodded. One of those myths — Captain Kidd's Ledges — was what prompted the Gordons to buy Mrs. Wiley's acre on the bluffs. How clever.
Emma added, "There's no doubt that Kidd dumped treasure in several spots, either here on the North Fork, or on Block Island, or Fishers Island. That's where most accounts put the buried treasure."
"Any other locations?"
"One more that we know is true. Gardiners Island."
"Gardiners?"
"Yes. This is documented history. In June of 1699, while sailing around trying to make a deal with Lord Bellomont, Kidd anchored off Gardiners Island to get provisions. The island was then called the Isle of Wight on maps, but it was, and still is, owned by the Gardiner family."
"You mean, the people who own the island now are Gardiners, and this is the same family who owned the island in 1699?"
"Yes. The island has been in the same family line since it was given to them by King Charles the first in 1639. In 1699, John Gardiner, the Third Lord of the Manor, lived there with his family." She added, "The Captain Kidd story is very much a part of the Gardiner family history. In fact, on Gardiners Island is Kidd Valley and a stone monument that marks the spot where John Gardiner buried some of Kidd's treasure for him. The whole island is private, but the present lord of the manor will sometimes give you a tour." She hesitated, then said, "Fredric and I were guests of the gentleman."
I didn't comment on that, but said, "So there really was buried treasure."
"Yes. William Kidd showed up in the San Antonio, and John Gardiner went out in a small boat to see who was anchored off his island. It was by all accounts a friendly meeting, and the two exchanged gifts. There was at least one more meeting between the two, and on that occasion, Kidd gave John Gardiner quite a bit of loot and told Gardiner to bury it for him."
I said, "I hope Kidd got a receipt."
"Better yet, Kidd's last words to John Gardiner were, 'If I call for it and it is gone, I will take your head or your son's.'"
"Better than a signed receipt."
Emma sipped her tea, then looked at me and said, "Kidd, of course, never returned. Having received another nice letter from Bellomont, he was ready to go to Boston and face the charges. He landed there on July first. He was allowed to remain free for a week to see who he associated with, then he was arrested on Bellomont's orders and put into chains. His ship and his Boston lodgings were searched, turning up bags of gold, silver, and some jewelry and diamonds. It was a lot of treasure, but not as much as Kidd was supposed to have, and not nearly enough to cover the cost of the expedition."
I asked, "What happened to the treasure on Gardiners Island?"
"Well, somehow — and the stones here differ — it came to the attention of Bellomont, who sent John Gardiner a nice letter by special messenger…" She pulled a reproduction toward her and read, " 'Mr. Gardiner, I have secured Captain Kidd in the gaol of this town and some of his men. He has been examined by myself and the Council and has confessed among other things that he left with you a parcel of gold made up in a box and some other parcels besides, all of which I require you in his Majesty's name immediately to fetch hither to me that I may secure them for his Majesty's use, and I shall recompense your pains in coming hither. Signed, Bellomont.' "
Emma handed me the letter, and I glanced at it. I could actually make out some of it. Incredible, I thought, that stuff like this survived three centuries. It occurred to me that maybe some other three-hundred-year-old document regarding the location of more of Kidd's treasure had led to the murder of two twentieth-century scientists.
I said to Emma, "I hope John Gardiner sent a letter back to Bellomont saying, 'What Kidd? What gold?'"
She smiled. "No, John, Gardiner wasn't about to cross the governor and the king. He duly carried the treasure to Boston himself."
"I'll bet you he kept some of it."
Emma pushed a piece of paper toward me and said, "That is a photostat of the original inventory of the treasure delivered by John Gardiner to Lord Bellomont. The original is in the Public Records Office in London."
I looked at the photostat of the original, which was ripped in places and totally indecipherable to me. I pushed it back to Emma. "Can you actually read that?"
"I can." She held the photostat up to the lamp and read, " 'Received the 17th July of Mr. John Gardiner — one bag dust gold, one bag coined gold and silver, one parcel dust gold, one bag three silver rings and sundry precious stones, one bag of unpolished stones, one parcel of crystal and bazer stone, two carnelian rings, two small agates, two amethysts all in the same bag, one bag silver buttons, one bag broken silver, two bags gold bars, and two bags silver bars. The whole of the gold abovementioned is eleven hundred and eleven ounces, Troy weight. The silver is two thousand, three hundred fifty-three ounces, the jewels and precious stones' weight are seventeen ounces…
Emma looked up from the inventory and said, "This is a good-sized treasure, but if you believe the Mogul's claim to the British government, then there was twenty times more gold and jewels still missing than had so far been recovered on Gardiners Island or seized on the San Antonio and in Kidd's Boston lodgings." She smiled at me and asked, "Okay, Detective, where is the rest of the loot, booty, and plunder?"
I smiled in return. "Okay… a third is still in the Caribbean."
"Yes. That treasure, which is well documented, disappeared and has spawned a hundred Caribbean legends to match the hundred legends here."
"Okay… also, the crew got their share before they all jumped ship."
"Yes, but the whole of the crew's share would not have been more than ten percent of the total treasure. That's the deal."
"Plus medical and dental benefits."
"Where's the rest of the treasure?"
"Well, we can assume John Gardiner skimmed a little."
"We might assume that."
"The lawyer, Emmot, got his, for sure."
She nodded.
"How much is left?"
She shrugged. "Who knows? Estimates range anywhere between five and ten million of today's dollars unaccounted for. But, as I said, the treasure, if found in situ, rotted chest and all, would be worth double or triple its intrinsic value if it were auctioned at Sotheby's." She added, "The treasure map alone, if it existed and if it was in Kidd's handwriting, would be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars at auction."
"How much do you get for the maps in the gift shop?"
"Four dollars."
"They're not authentic?"
She smiled and finished her tea.
I said, "We're assuming that Kidd buried treasure in one or more other locations as insurance, as a bargaining point to buy his freedom and keep himself from the gallows."
"That's always been the assumption. If he buried some treasure at Gardiners Island, then he probably buried some elsewhere for the same reason." She added, "Captain Kidd's Trees and Captain Kidd's Ledges."
I said to her, "I went to see Captain Kidd's Trees."
"Did you?"
"I think I found the place, but they're all cut down."
"Yes, there were still a few big oaks standing around the turn of the century. They're all gone now." She added, "People used to dig around the stumps."
I said, "You can still see some of the stumps."
Emma informed me, "In colonial times, digging for pirate treasure became such a national obsession that Ben Franklin wrote newspaper pieces against it. As late as the 1930s, people were still digging around here." She added, "The craze has almost entirely disappeared, but it's part of the local culture here, which is why I didn't want anyone in the Cutchogue Diner to hear us talking about buried treasure. Half the damned town would have been dug up by now." She grinned.
"Amazing." I asked Emma, "So Kidd's buried treasure was supposed to be his life insurance. Why didn't it save him from the gallows?"
"Because of a variety of misunderstandings, bad luck, vindictiveness. For one thing, no one in Boston or London believed Kidd could recover the loot in the Caribbean, and they were probably right. That was long gone. Also, you had the mogul's complaint and the political problem. Then Kidd himself was playing it cute. He was holding out for a full pardon from the king in exchange for turning over the plunder. But the king and the others may have felt that to protect the British East India Company they had to return the plunder to the Mogul so they had no interest in pardoning Kidd in exchange for the location of the loot. They would rather hang Kidd; which they did."
"Did Kidd say anything about the hidden treasure at his trial?"
"Nothing. There are transcripts of the trial, and you can see that Kidd realized he was going to be hanged no matter what he did or said. I think he accepted this and decided as a last act of spite to take any secrets he had to the grave with him."
"Or, he told his wife."
"That's a strong possibility. She had some money of her own, but she seemed to live quite well after her husband's death."
"They all do."
"No sexist remarks, please. Tell me what happened to the treasure."
I replied, "I don't have enough information. The clues are old. Yet, I would make the assumption that there was still some treasure buried somewhere."
"Do you think Kidd told his wife where all of it was?"
I reflected on this a moment, then replied, "Kidd knew that his wife could also be arrested, and she might be made to talk. So… I think at first he didn't tell her, but by the time he was in the slammer in Boston and was about to be shipped out to London, he probably gave her a few clues. Like that eight-digit number."
Emma nodded. "It's always been assumed that Sarah Kidd managed to recover some of the treasure. But I don't think Kidd would have told her where all of it was because if she were arrested and made to talk, then any slim chance that Kidd had of trading buried treasure for his life would have been lost." She added, "I really think he took the location of some buried treasure to the grave with him."
I said, "Did they torture Kidd?"
"No," she replied, "and people have always wondered why they didn't. In those days, they tortured people for much less reason." She added, "A lot of the Kidd story never made sense."
"If I'd been around, I'd have made sense of it all."
"If you had been around then, they'd have hanged you as a troublemaker."
"Be nice, Emma."
I processed all this information and played with it awhile. I again thought about Charles Wilson's detailed letter to his brother, and I asked Emma, "Do you think Kidd could recall from memory all the locations of where he'd buried his treasure? Is that possible?"
"Probably not." She added, "Bellomont did look for evidence of hidden treasure and recovered some papers from Kidd's Boston lodgings and from the San Antonio, but there were no maps or locations of buried treasure among the papers — or if there were, Bellomont kept it to himself. I should mention that Bellomont died before Kidd was hanged in London, so if Bellomont had any of Kidd's treasure maps, they may have disappeared on Bellomont's death." She said to me, "So, you see, John, there are lots of little clues and hints and inconsistencies. People who have an interest in this have been playing historical detective for centuries." She smiled at me and asked, "So, do you have it figured out?"
"Not yet. I need a few more minutes."
"Take as long as you need. Meanwhile, I need a drink. Let's go."
"Hold on. I get to ask a few more questions."
"Okay. Shoot."
"Okay… I'm Captain Kidd, and I've been sailing around Long Island Sound for… how long?"
"A few weeks."
"Right. I've been to Oyster Bay where I got into contact with a lawyer, and my wife and children have come aboard from Manhattan. I've been to Gardiners Island… I asked Mr. Gardiner to bury some treasure for me. Do I know where he buried it?"
"No, which is why a map wasn't needed. Kidd simply told Gardiner to make sure the treasure was available when he returned, or he'd cut off a Gardiner head."
I nodded. "That's better than a map. Kidd didn't even have to dig the hole."
"That's right."
"Do you think Kidd did the same thing at other locations?"
"Who knows? The more common method was to go ashore with a few men and bury the treasure secretly, then make a map of the location."
"Then you have witnesses to where the treasure is buried."
She replied, "The traditional pirate method of insuring secrecy is to kill the person who dug the hole and throw him in. Then the captain and his trusted mate fill the hole. It was believed that the ghost of the murdered seaman haunted the treasure. In fact, skeletons have been found buried with treasure chests."
"Presumptive evidence of homicide," I said.
She continued, "As I mentioned, Kidd's crew at this point may have been reduced to six or seven. If he trusted at least one to watch the ship and the crew and his family, he could easily row to any bay or inlet and bury a chest of treasure himself. It's not a major engineering project to dig a hole in the sand. The old movies usually show a big party going ashore, but depending on the size of the chest, you only need one or two people." nodded, "A lot of our perception of history is influenced by inaccurate movies."
"That's probably right," Emma said. "But one thing in the movies is pretty accurate — all treasure hunting starts with the discovery of a long-lost map. We sell them for four bucks downstairs, but they've sold for tens of thousands of dollars to gullible people over the centuries."
I mulled this over, thinking that it may have been one of these maps — a real one — that had somehow come into the possession of Tom and Judy, and/or Fredric Tobin. I said to Emma, "You mentioned that Gardiners Island was once called the Isle of Wight."
"Yes."
"Are there other islands around here that once had other names?"
"Sure. All the islands initially had Indian names, obviously. Then some acquired Dutch or English names." She added, "And even those changed over the years. There was a real problem with geographic place names in the New World. Some English sea captains had only Dutch maps, some had maps showing the wrong name for an island or river, for instance, and the spelling was atrocious, and some maps simply had blanks and some had purposely misleading information."
I nodded and said, "Let's take, for instance, Robins Island or, say, Plum Island. What were they called in Kidd's day?"
"I'm not sure about Robins Island, but Plum Island was the same, except spelled P-L-U-M-B-E. This came from the earlier Dutch name for Plum Island, which was spelled P-R-U-Y-M E-Y-L-A-N-D." She added, "There could have been an even earlier name, and someone like William Kidd, who hadn't been to sea for years before he accepted this commission from Bellomont, may have had or purchased navigation charts that were decades old. That was not uncommon." She went on, "A pirate's treasure map, which would be drawn from a chart, could start with some inaccuracies. And you have to remember there are not many authentic treasure maps in existence today, so it's hard to draw any conclusions about the general accuracy of buried-treasure maps. It depended on the pirate himself. Some were really stupid."
I smiled.
She continued, "If the pirate chose not to draw a map, then the chances are much smaller of finding a treasure based on his written instructions. For instance, suppose you found a parchment that said, 'On Pruym Eyland, I buried my treasure — from Eagle Rock go thirty paces to the twin oaks, thence, forty paces due south' and so on. If you couldn't figure out where Pruym Eyland was, you had a major problem. If research said Pruym Eyland was once the name for Plum Island, then you have to find the rock that everyone at that time knew was Eagle Rock. And forget the oaks. You see?"
"I do."
After a bit, Emma said to me, "Archivists are sort of like detectives, too. Can I make a guess?"
"Sure."
She thought a moment, then said, "Okay… the Gordons got on to some information about Captain Kidd's treasure, or maybe some other pirate's treasure, and then someone else found out about it, and that's why the Gordons were murdered." She looked at me. "Am I right?"
I said, "Something like that. I'm working on the details."
"Did the Gordons actually retrieve the treasure?"
"I'm not sure."
She didn't press me.
I asked, "How would the Gordons have tumbled on to that information? I mean, I don't see any files here marked 'Pirate Treasure Maps.' Right?"
"Right. The only pirate treasure maps here are in the gift shop. There are, however, a lot of documents here and in the other museums and historical societies that are still unread, or if read, their significance is not understood. You understand?"
"I do."
She continued, "You know, John, people who haunt archives like the Public Records Office in London, or the British Museum, find new things that other people either missed or didn't understand. So, yes, there may be information here or in other collections or in private homes."
"Private homes?"
"Yes, at least once a year we get something donated that was turned up in an old house. Like a will or an old deed. My guess — and this is only a guess — is that someone like the Gordons, who were not professional archivists or historians, simply stumbled on to something that was so obvious that even they could understand what it was."
"Like a map?"
"Yes, like a map that clearly shows a recognizable piece of geography, and gives landmarks, directions, paces, compass headings, and the whole works. If they had something like that, they could pretty much go right to the spot and dig." She reflected a moment, then said, "The Gordons did a lot of archaeological digging on Plum Island…maybe they were really looking for treasure."
"No maybes about it."
She looked at me a long time, then said, "From what I hear, they had holes dug all over the island. That doesn't sound like they knew what or where — "
"The archaeological digs were cover. It gave them the ability to walk around remote parts of the island with shovels. Also, I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the archival work wasn't also a cover."
"Why?"
"They wouldn't be allowed to keep anything they found on Plum Island. It's government land. So they had to create a legend of their own. The legend of how Tom and Judy Gordon saw something in the archives — here or in London — that mentioned Captain Kidd's Trees, or Captain Kidd's Ledges, and, they would later claim, this got them to thinking about hunting for the treasure." I added, "In reality, they already knew the treasure was on Plum Island."
"Incredible."
"Yes, but you have to work the problem backwards. Start with an authentic map or written directions that pinpoint a treasure on Plum Island. Let's say you had this information in your possession. What would you, Emma Whitestone, do?"
She didn't think about it long before she said, "I'd simply turn the information over to the government. This is an important historical document, and the treasure, if any, is historically important. If it's located on Plum Island, then it should be found on Plum Island. To do otherwise is not only dishonest, it's also a historical hoax."
"History is full of lies, deceit, and hoaxes. That's how the treasure got there to begin with. Why not just pull off another hoax? Finders keepers. Right?"
"No. If the treasure is on anyone else's land — even the government's — then they own it. If I discovered its whereabouts, I would accept a reward."
I smiled.
She looked at me. "What would you do?"
"Well… in the spirit of Captain Kidd, I'd try to cut a deal. I wouldn't just turn the location over to the person whose land is represented on the map. It would be fair to trade the secret for a share. Even Uncle Sam will make a deal."
She thought about that and said, "I suppose." She added, "Only that's not what the Gordons did."
"No. The Gordons had a partner or partners who I believe was more larcenous than they were. And probably murderous, too. Really, we don't know what the Gordons were up to, or what they intended, because they wound up dead. We can assume they began with hard information about the location of a treasure on Plum Island, and everything we see them do after that is simply a deliberate and clever ruse — the Peconic Historical Society, the archaeological digs, the archive work, even the week in the Public Records Office in London — it's all in preparation for the transportation and reburial of the treasure from Uncle Sam land to Gordon land."
Emma nodded. "And that's why the Gordons bought that land from Mrs. Wiley — a place to rebury the treasure… Captain Kidd's Ledges."
"That's right. Does it make sense to you or am I crazy?"
"You're crazy, yet it makes sense."
I ignored this and continued, "If there's ten or twenty million bucks at stake, you do it right. You take your time, you cover your tracks before anyone even knows you're making tracks, you anticipate problems with historians, archaeologists, and the government. You're going to be not only rich, you're going to be famous, and you're going to be in the spotlight for better or worse. You're young, handsome, bright, and in the money. And you don't want any problems."
She stayed silent awhile, then said, "But something went wrong."
"It must have — they're dead."
Neither of us spoke for a while. I now had a lot of answers, and I still had a lot more questions. Some of them might never be answered, since Tom and Judy Gordon, like William Kidd, had taken some secrets to the grave with them.
Emma finally asked me, "Who do you think killed them?"
"Probably their partner or partners."
"I know… but who?"
"I don't know yet. Do you have any suspects in mind?"
She shook her head, but I think she had a suspect in mind.
I'd confided a lot of information to Emma Whitestone, who I really didn't know. But I have a good sense of who to trust. On the chance that I'd misjudged, that she was part of the plot, then it didn't matter because she knew all of this anyway. And if she went and told Fredric Tobin or someone else that I'd figured it out, so much the better. Fredric Tobin lived very high in the tower, and it would take a lot of smoke to reach him up there. And if someone else were involved that I didn't know about, then the smoke might reach him or her, too. There comes a time in an investigation where you just let it rip. Especially when time is running out.
I pondered my next question, then decided to go for broke. I said to her, "I understand that some people from the Peconic Historical Society were on Plum Island to do a survey of possible digs."
She nodded.
"Was Fredric Tobin one of those people?"
She actually hesitated, which I guess was out of an old habit of loyalty. Finally, she said, "Yes. He was on the island once."
"With the Gordons as guides?"
"Yes." She looked at me and asked, "Do you think… I mean…?"
I said to her, "I can speculate about motive and method, but I never speculate out loud about suspects." I added, "It's important that you keep all of this to yourself."
She nodded.
I looked at Emma. She seemed to be what she appeared to be — an honest, intelligent, and pleasantly crazy woman. I liked her. I took her hand, and we played hand squeezies.
I said, "Thank you for your time and knowledge."
"It was fun."
I nodded. My mind went back to William Kidd. I said, "So they hanged him?"
"They did. They kept him in chains in England for more than a year before he was tried at Old Bailey. He was allowed no legal counsel, no witnesses, and no evidence. He was found guilty and hanged at Execution Dock on the Thames. His body was covered with tar and hung in chains as a warning to passing seamen. Crows ate the rotting flesh for months."
I stood. "Let's get that drink."