Captain continued, maybe taking the look as intrigue. “The stones were also believed to cure leprosy, measles, cholera, even depression. By the 16th century, the very rich sought them out. Queen Elizabeth I had a ring with a stone set into it.”
“So, those thingsareworth their weight in gold,” Mariposa said.
“Were—to the souls seeking them out back then. Today—because it’s part of something we no longer partake in.”
“I guess it didn’t work?” She gave me a pitiful look, and this time I laughed.
Captain looked between us, sensing it was a private, unspoken conversation we were having, then shook his head. “No. It was debunked by a French surgeon somewhere in the 1500s. I want to say late 1500s. His name was Ambroise Paré. A cook in his house had been caught stealing silver and was sentenced to hang for it. Paré offered him a deal—he’d be poisoned to see if the bezoar would work, or else he’d just be hanged. If he lived through the poison, he could go free.”
“Seems Paré’s cook was a betting man,” I said.
“Absolutely.” Captain nodded. “He took the poison but died hours later.”
“Damn,” Mari said. “So close.”
“Never close at all,” Captain said. “He was hoping for the odds to be in his favor. Sometimes they just aren’t. A pirate knows that well enough. You can fortify your ship against otherpirates all you want, but there’s no fortifying anything against Mother Nature.”
She turned to the bezoar for a second and then turned back to us. “Can you hold your breath for long?”
Captain looked a little taken aback by this turn in the conversation. He glanced at me before answering her. “I’ve been around water all my life. I can hold it longer than your average man. But I don’t make it a habit. I usually have gills on when I go under—diving equipment.”
“Is that something you can teach someone else?”
“There are exercises.” He hesitated, but only for a second. “Mind if we discuss this over a pot of coffee? Long night.”
After we locked up the secret hold, I walked Mariposa to a different part of the yacht, where she and Captain sat and started talking. An older woman appeared and told them she’d get them some coffee. They were caught up in discussion, so I stepped outside, looking out over the expanse of water. It had been hours since Captain and some of his crew boarded our vessel and brought the treasure with them. The sun was just beginning to set, and in the distance, I noticed a few ships following ours.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the number. Rocco answered on the third ring.
“Amadeo,” he said.
“Rocco.”
His deep, low laughter flowed through the line. “If you were going for subterfuge, you undershot.”
“You have no other name,” I said. I had plenty—Amadeo was one of them, though only family called me by it.
“Ah,” he said. “I have plenty of names. You have just never heard them.”
“Amantedoesn’t count,” I said.
He laughed a little louder, then he sighed. “All’s well with the package?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Except I don’t like it.”
The sun was swallowed by the horizon, and the only lights were the ones coming from the tailing ships. A few men had come out to stand and watch them. Probably sensing the same thing I had. Trouble.
Captain had left his ship behind because he’d outrun them the night before. Shots were even fired. He didn’t know whether it was his competition, hiring a crew to do their dirty work, or actual pirates. If they didn’t know the treasure belonged to the Faustis, they better wake the fuck up and find out. It was the reason the treasure was moved with us in the first place. Most people knew better than to mess with them.
“I don’t trust many,” he said.
He didn’t have to say anything else. He’d only trust a few with a package of this worth. I felt the same about my wife.
Rocco fell silent for a few seconds. I heard him exhale before he spoke. “Marriage has already changed you, Amadeo,” he said in Italian.
“I have a responsibility—someone to take care of.” To the point and the truth.
“The future is not far off.”
