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Chapter TWENTY
The following morning Mark was already gone when they woke. Colter was taking him back to St Mary’s in one of the RIBs and picking up some fresh supplies. They were now, by Aleksey’s reckoning, about halfway between Benhar and Les Dents, anchored off a small cluster of islets, no inhabited land in sight. Thinking about this, doing some calculations in his head as he watched Miles hunched over his laptop, Aleksey went to find Ben. ‘I’m going to the island. I suspect it’s only an hour in one of those.’ He nodded to the remaining zodiac. ‘I want to check on the boys. I think they’ve been busy.’ Ben folded his arms, thinking, studying him with narrowed eyes. Aleksey sighed. ‘No, Benjamin, I will not explore the sea caves without you.’ Ben lightly punched his arm, which was an improvement on the savage kicks he’d gotten the previous evening.
It was only as he was skimming over the water towards the island that Aleksey realised how stupid he’d been not getting one of these crafts earlier. They were indispensable in the environment of an archipelago, because they had no draft and were pretty much indestructible. He didn’t need to worry about shallow reefs, rocks, islets, or anything really. He consulted the instruments, set a course for Light Island, opened the throttle and held on.
He was there in well under the hour he’d calculated, and as he motored past the cliffs, had the overwhelming temptation to check the large cave which gave access to the lighthouse. He wasn’t exploring it—just looking. They were entirely different things. He felt a little guilty, and not only for Ben’s sake. He’d told himself these two days were for Miles, not treasure. He checked with Enid, who was sitting bundled and warm in the bow of the inflatable, and she assured him with a glint in her eye that she was more than willing to take a little detour—she’d explored lots of caves with her parents when she was a girl. Permission given, he swung the wheel towards the collapsed arch. In this small, highly manoeuvrable craft, he had no difficulty navigating the invisible opening and cut the engine when he was through, coasting into the dock. Billy’s new wayfarer was tied up to a bollard, but it looked as pristine as the day Aleksey had bought it for him. Billy would never sail the waters of Scilly again.
The walls of the cavern were dark, slimy to the tide line, and completely bare of any nooks or crannies where the lost treasure of the Aztecs could be hiding. It was disappointing, but as he motored back out he could feel the pull of the tide taking the zodiac towards Revival Sands, which confirmed his belief he was right about the location.
As he came in sight of the beach, he was highly amused to see the hellhounds paddling and romping in the water. They spotted him and let out a furious volley of vicious barks, until he shouted to them that their lord and master was home, and they then began to give chase to the boat along the shoreline, up into the woods, down through small coves and then out of sight until they beat him to the dock and were waiting for him, tails beating frantically until he’d greeted and praised them sufficiently.
Harry was in the garden with Billy. Billy’s chair had been pulled into the greenhouse, and Harry had got the heating system working—for his seedlings, he insisted. He was in there now, pottering about, telling stories to his two avid listeners. When Snodgrass saw the other dogs arriving, he leapt out of Billy’s lap to greet them. Billy seemed impossibly frail and did not rise to hug him, which he always liked to do.
Harry, wiping his hands, held one out to shake. ‘How’s our little genius?’ Aleksey gave him a look and Harry nodded. ‘They say children are resilient, but I believe they take hurts more to heart than we can possibly know. The experience of death can change who they are for the rest of their lives.’ Aleksey knew the old man was referencing his own son;hewas certainly thinking about Sergei, but probably not in the way Harry meant.
‘What’s been happening here? I think someone tried to search the island and the dogs saw him off.’
‘I have not seen much of them, son, I have to admit. You said let them roam, and they’ve taken that as licence to run their own ship.’
‘Bad man.’ They both swivelled their gaze to the little figure bundled in his blankets. Billy was patting his lap to try and get Snodgrass to return.
‘Did you see him? Was he in the cave? The one with your boat?’
Billy raised his eyes to halfway up Aleksey’s chest. ‘You’re just being silly.’
Harry encouraged gently, ‘What did the bad man do, son? Where did he go?’
‘Meelee’s pretty flowers.’
Harry shook his head at him, clearly not understanding either. ‘One of the coves, Billy? With flowers?’
Aleksey smirked. ‘Well, whatever, no harm done except to him, apparently.’ He left the five of them in the garden and headed to Guillemot. It seemed oddly bereft of spirit, and he realised with a snort that the old house was just sulking, missing all its holiday company. He went into the main room, as he wanted to collect Morwenna’s books. Another night without any fun from Ben, and he might as well see if he could remember how to read. He might just have them by his elbow to consult at dinner that night. He hadn’t practised being extremely irritating his entire life to lose that skill now. Molly’s great palace, still not deconstructed, made him smirk, as he recalled her scurrying little figure skittering between the boxes through the tunnels.
He went next to the kitchen and helped himself to a bottle of wine, swigging from it as he sent a quick text to the moron to check all was well back in Devon. They had no service onRogue Wave, which hadn’t surprised him. He got a long string of fairly meaningless emojis back, which appeared to be hotdogs, doughnuts and some fireworks. Odd. But he took it all to mean nothing much was wrong and pocketed his phone, putting the half-empty bottle back behind the full ones. It was only as he was leaving, passing the scullery, that Billy’s odd pronouncement struck him: bad man; meelee’s flowers.Emilia? Her embroidered fabric? He pushed open the door. All the material had been pulled out of the boxed shelves and was on the floor. He turned on his heel and sprinted up the stairs and checked the bedrooms and attics. It was impossible to tell if anything was disturbed—they were a messy family. But Emilia had not left her craft room in that state; ofthathe was sure.
But why would Colter search Guillemot House? Landing on the island and looking for the treasure he could understand. But why would Colter want to search Guillemot? It had not been built until early the previous century—hundreds of years after the treasure had been hidden on the island. Had Sharpie actually found it and moved it? Was it even now somewhere in the house? They hadn’t opened half the boxes in the second attic yet. Well, again, whatever, if the man had been searching the house, he’d apparently not found what he was looking for. Maybe he’d merely been sheltering in it to escape the dogs and in his anger and frustration had randomly vandalised Emilia’s present. This solution didn’t seem all that likely, however.
Suddenly, the image of Treasure HQ came to him—Kittiwake. All their research, Radulf’s finds! Fucking hell! Even his gold coins.
He tore back downstairs, skidded out of the door and sprinted down the path to the west through the woods.
Harry was inside the cottage, arms folded and boiling the kettle, when he crashed in. ‘Ah, there you are. Tea?’ The place was immaculate. Not a single incriminating thing in sight. Harry chuckled at his expression as he bent, hands on his knees, breathing deeply. ‘Got to keep things shipshape and Bristol fashion, son. No excuse for slovenliness at sea.’ He took a seat at the table. ‘I suspected when you wanted the dogs loose that you anticipated an attempted boarding. Can’t have spies finding our treasure before us, can we?’
Aleksey sat down across from him. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever find it. I checked the big cave beneath the lighthouse—nothing.’
‘Oh, it will be ours, son. I have something interesting to add to the puzzle. We were interrupted by poor Mrs Toogood’s untimely passing. But if you have a minute now?’ He drew up his old leather satchel and withdrew the book Aleksey had given him for Christmas—the history of Dartmouth Naval College. ‘I apologise again. I am getting old, and I didn’t make the connection when I should have. Have you ever had that experience of entering a room and finding when you get there that you’ve entirely forgotten what you wanted in it?’ Aleksey shook his head. Vigorously. ‘Ah, too young yet, son. It will come. It will come. It’s the first sign. Well, my old noggin’ finally caught up.’ He started to turn the pages of the book slowly as a picture here or a bit of text there caught his eye. Aleksey leaned back and watched him. He wouldn’t have hurried him for the world. He had missed out on times like this his entire life, and he wasn’t about to rush through one now. Finally, Harry found what he was looking for, closed the cover with his finger in the place once more, and explained, ‘Do you remember Michael’s young friend Frobisher going up to the auction at Sotheby’s, and that those items were stolen—and we’ll be ungenerous and assume the boy took them. Well, one of them was listed as an antique spyglass. Now, I told you that Robert Frobisher, our young lad from Ben’s mysterious portal who died on Henderson Island, was top cadet in his year. He won the Nelson Prize? Look.’ He opened the book to show Aleksey the picture within. It was a black-and-white illustration. Ofhistelescope—brass, leather and enamelled nautical flags. Harry, watching his expression, nodded. ‘That was the Nelson Prize. I think Robert Frobisher drew his map when he knew he was dying, and he hid it inside the telescope. His infant son was too young to have been told the secret before he sailed. He had to leave him the information somehow. Robert couldn’t have known he wouldn’t be found until generations of Frobishers had lived and died.’
‘Buttheyknew.’
‘They knew something, yes. They waited. They hadexpectations.’
‘But this can’t be my actual scope. There must have been others made just like it.’
‘Ah, yes, quite so. But didn’t young Benjamin tell me he’d bought it in the chandlers on St Mary’s for you? That seems a bit of a coincidence, given we must assume our schoolboy thief came here to Scilly with it?’
Aleksey snapped his head up, thinking. Harry, watching him, frowned but waited patiently. ‘Ben told me someone else had already bought it—but because this guy in the shop wanted to—needed some extra money, he sold it under the counter to Ben for cash.’
