Mary Dear - Redux Read online

  Tina had timed things to perfection as Joe arrived at his private beach he found her kneeling down studying some turtles that had come in from the sea and were struggling up the beach to lay their eggs.

  ‘Hello.’

  Tina turned shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand and was surprised and rather pleased to see that the tall man Elliott had said would be there was also very attractive. This she hadn’t expected.

  ‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he apologised.

  ‘You didn’t...you’re English,’ she said, more a statement than a question.

  ‘That obvious is it?’ he said smiling, taking in the astonishingly beautiful young woman that stood before him. He went over to her and stretched his hand to greet her.

  ‘My name’s Joe Martin; I didn’t expect to meet anyone else here.’

  ‘Me neither, I’m Tina, that’s my boat over there by the way,’ she said, pointing to the Mare Nostrum.

  It was Joe’s turn to explain.

  ‘I’m a recent arrival. I’m staying with my nephew; he’s working with the film crew on the Sea Tigress.

  ‘Lucky him,’ she said, ‘we arrived just three days ago. I’ve seen them coming and going but I haven’t met any of them yet. What are you doing here?’

  ‘That’s a long story,’ he said, ‘initially I came looking for my nephew and, now I’ve found him, I’ve decided to stay on for a bit; see the Island.’

  ‘Not a bad idea,’ she said, ‘so you’re not involved in the filming?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he laughed, ‘I’m afraid I don’t have much to contribute to the creative process so I try to keep out of their way.’

  ‘So, he was lost? Your nephew, I mean,’ she said getting back to what Joe had said.

  ‘Not quite.’ He was looking at Tina thinking she was beautiful, her gorgeous body perfectly tanned and, to cap it all, she was charming. ‘His mum, you see, she’s a bit prone to panics and hadn’t heard from him in a while so...’

  ‘You sprang to the rescue?’ She was smiling, amused.

  ‘You could say that. I must say I’m glad I did, this is like a piece of heaven.’ Things were definitely looking up. He thought it would be great to spend some time and get to know her better and Cocos Island seemed the perfect setting.

  ‘How exciting’ she said, ‘and you get to see the film crew at work. I’ve always wondered how a film-unit operates. You’re very lucky you know.’ She was thinking, if he’s as intelligent as he’s handsome, he’ll know I’m fishing for an invitation.

  Joe wondered if she was travelling alone or maybe with a man, it was a bit forward but still...

  ‘Are you alone?’ he said, ‘not being nosy, it’s just that I didn’t notice anyone else...’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t, I mean, I’m here with a friend who’s doing some research on Cocos,’ she stressed the word friend, ‘and he’s always pottering around in the Island—it’s one of the most protected places on earth, so he tells me. Looks like we’re in the same boat.’

  ‘I might be able to wangle an introduction...If you’d like to get a closer look at the making of a shark documentary, that is?’

  Tina gave Joe her best smile, thankful her ruse had worked.

  ‘That would be marvellous...I could do with a bit of excitement and my friend would be very interested too; are you sure? We wouldn’t want to impose.’

  Joe had hoped that she’d leave her friend behind but this was better than nothing; so he assured her that there was nothing to fear, joking that the sharks were all in the sea.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure we’ll be safe,’ she said with a cheeky grin, ‘how can a girl refuse?’

  Elliott awoke to a cloudless sky. The Pacific Ocean shimmered with light reflecting off the crests of gently breaking waves, sparkling like jewels on a sea of the deepest blue. During the night Cocos Island had been bathed in one of its customary tropical showers and now in the heat of the sun, a hazy steam cloud rose slowly upwards from the trees and melted gently into the atmosphere. The island looked mystical, remote and ready to give up its secrets.

  The crew of the Mare Nostrum helped Elliot into the Zodiac. He had a hand-held GPS receiver with him, programmed with the location from Wilhelm’s coordinates, and headed in the direction of the ‘Lone Stone’ site.

  Standing on deck, Tina watched him go. The morning sun was up and its heat bore down on him, relieved only by a gentle breeze. The sea was transparent and the sun’s rays penetrated, lighting up schools of colourful fish that swam together slowly before turning sharply as one. Elliott steered the Zodiac in a true course to what he hoped would be the pot of gold at the end of his personal rainbow.

  He arrived at the appropriate position and found himself wishing he could postpone the moment, and at the same time hurrying to put on his wetsuit.

  Elliott would be using a CCUBA or closed circuit underwater breathing apparatus, as opposed to the Aqua-Lung type equipment he was more used to. It was quieter and the lack of bubbles would make him blend more easily with his environment—and more difficult to detect if there were any other divers close by. ‘Well this is it,’ he thought, and dropped the anchor; it went down with a splash. His aim was to establish if there was anything to be seen in the clear waters where the map said the treasure lay waiting.

  Elliott was an experienced diver and had logged many hours during his time in South America; in some ways this dive was no different to many he had done before, except for the fact that he would be diving alone, something that is never advisable.

  He sat on the edge of the Zodiac, flipped backwards into the sea and disappeared beneath the waves. Instantly he found himself in a beautiful and quiet environment; he checked the GPS and started swimming.

  He was alert. On the edge of deep waters you can expect to find big predators, the top guys of the sea; white tip reef sharks, whale sharks, huge yellow fin tuna, enormous marlin and sailfish, giant mantas, hammerheads and everything in between. He kept an eye out for ‘cleaner fish’ swimming together, knowing that when they’re around it’s a sure bet that something big will appear.

  He was well into his dive, swimming smoothly and effortlessly keeping an eye out for danger. Lone Stone’s profile indicated 98 feet maximum depth with a total bottom time of 67 minutes. Swimming with just his weight belt on he noticed a vertical crack in the reef, about 25–30 feet high and perhaps five feet wide. With shimmering sunlight streaming down from fissures in the top he could see that it was packed with fish hiding from the current. There were silver snapper, yellow grunt, red cardinal fish, and a couple of big trumpet fish in one vertical school, all swaying gently together in the surge.

  Elliott’s calculations told him he’d arrived at the correct location but still he saw nothing. He’d been down for around twenty-five minutes searching around the area when he saw the coffer. It was white and there were what appeared to be serial numbers along one of its sides. It looked to be around four by two on plan and two metres deep; the size of a small room and in perfect condition. Whatever paint the Germans had used it had not deteriorated noticeably in the intervening years. There was a Swastika just below the serial number and, as he swam around it, he saw that the pattern repeated on the other sides of the box. It was hermetically sealed so whatever was inside it should be in as good a condition as the day it went in. Dieter’s brother had plotted those coordinates and they were spot on.

  On the surface a zodiac was heading to where Elliott’s boat was anchored.

  Elliott had been down thirty minutes and was swimming ninety feet below the surface when he saw it, the unmistakable shape of a large Hammerhead shark swimming not twenty feet away on a parallel track to him. Sharks are unpredictable and can sense distress in the water.

  The hammerhead ranks seventh among the sharks most dangerous to humans; Elliott was taking no chances, and he knew he’d be no match for this perfect killing machine. Find a hiding place and lie low for a bit, he thought. Give the shark nothing to keep him t
here and perhaps he’ll go away. He felt a sudden bump on his back as if something large had nudged him. Fear swept through his body with a rush of adrenaline so big he thought he’d explode. He spun around quickly expecting to find that another shark had brushed past him but what he saw was totally unexpected and much more frightening. A headless body floating with its arms outstretched dangling in front of him; his hands seemed to be calling. Something familiar made him take a closer look. The fingers had something written on them. He looked closer and saw the word ‘Noko’, and then it hit him. He was staring at Billy Briggs. But how the hell did he get there and what happened to him? In the rush of the moment Elliott had not noticed that half of his body was missing. He recoiled at the sight. Some powerful jaws had torn him in half at the waist. He’d lost all his blood and just a thin trickle oozed out of the trunk staining the sea around him. Elliott’s first thought was to get away as fast as possible. Sharks can detect the smallest amount of blood and though he could only see one hammerhead now, Billy’s body was the perfect bait and the sea around him could soon be full of sharks in a feeding frenzy. He kicked with his flippers as hard as he could, driven by fear and the instinct to survive. He had to put as much distance between himself and Billy. Soon he witnessed what he had predicted would happen as first one then more sharks arrived to feast on Brigg’s nephew, or what was left of him. The water clouded over and Elliott swam harder getting away from the ghastly spectacle.

  Twenty or so feet from the bottom he saw a huge jagged rock that looked like a giant shark’s tooth buried in the sand. Laying just the other side of it half hidden, covered in seaweed and crawling with crabs and crayfish were the remains of a brigantine. Its broken masts lay at odd angles across what was left of its deck. Schools of blue and gold snapper and Mexican goatfish swam in and out of gun ports that looked like empty eye sockets surveying the remains of what had once been a proud fighting ship, its forty-pound guns silent for two centuries or more.

  Elliott approached the ship and swam over its deck; the gentle swell pushed the masts this and that way with a scraping sound akin to a deathly lullaby. He was struck by the idea that this could be Thompson’s ship.

  Time and the sea had claimed much of her and laid bare her structure that, half buried in the sand, looked like the ghostly white ribs of an animal.

  He swam towards the prow where he found the ship’s carved figurehead. It was that of a woman, her long hair flowing and her ample bust pointing forward. It lay resting on the ocean floor, partly rotted and disfigured by the abundant sea creatures that had colonized her. He looked for anything that would identify the ship, but there was nothing.

  He swam around to the opposite side and was rewarded with a partially decayed name but what remained was enough to confirm that this was probably the final resting place of The Mary Dear. It was worth investigating further.

  The thrill of the find had pushed Billy’s death and the hammerheads from Elliott’s mind. If there were treasure to be found it would be in the Captain’s safe; he swam aft to where he knew the Captain’s cabin would be. This part of the ship had fared better. It was eerie to imagine that Thompson would have spent many hours pacing around this cabin and he looked around, half expecting to come face to face with the buccaneer, cutlass in hand, coming to cut his throat. Instead, he saw many boxes, coffers of varying size, some with rusting padlocks still attached. Others had rotted through, littering the floor with gold coins that shone in the beam of Elliott’s torch as if they had been freshly minted. Part of the floor had given way to a heavy item. Elliot forced himself to leave the Aladdin’s cave that he had found and swam down to see what else he might discover. He turned to find, standing at an angle and partially obscured by debris from the wreck, Our Lady of Lima staring right at him. Her gold body looking as new as the day it was taken away from its rightful place and stowed in Thompson’s cabin. Elliott could not believe his luck.

  He had hit the jackpot. Finding one treasure was prize enough but this...this was too much to hope for. He had to get back to the surface and hoped that the hammerheads were still busy with Billy.

  Elliot checked how much bottom time he had left. He was at a depth of ninety feet. He’d started feeling a bit euphoric and then he started to worry. Was it the excitement of finding the treasures that was making him giddy or a partial failure of the ‘scrubber’ on the rebreather? If it was he would not get much warning. Partial failure usually led to ‘break through’—if the partial pressure of oxygen got too low he wouldn’t have to worry about sharks getting him because he’d die of anoxia; if it got too high he’d get oxygen toxicity and he’d be just as dead.

  He decided to stop worrying about his equipment and began a slow ascent towards the waiting Zodiac. Elliott looked up and saw the shape of the boat’s bottom surrounded by an aquamarine halo of sea and light streaming in long shafts that lit up a myriad of colourful schools of fish blissfully unaware of any impending danger.

  Elliott emerged beside the empty boat and hauled himself aboard. It was only when he was onboard that he saw Billy’s inflatable anchored beside him and started shaking. He was cold, terrified and relieved to be out of the sea; and he felt lonely sitting there wondering how on earth Billy had managed to follow him and how he’d met his death.

  Elliott needed to pull himself together. He did not feel safe yet. He weighed anchor, started the small outboard motor and set a course for home. As he was leaving he looked back at the place where Billy had met his end and shivered again at that thought and the knowledge that soon he would have to return and dive in that very same spot. For now he was glad to be out of the water and heading back to the safety of the Mare Nostrum.

  Elliott was elated with his discovery. The fact was that he had been expecting to find the treasure of the Gold Train and had convinced himself that it would be there but that did not mean that in the back of his mind he had not feared that his search might come to nothing. Seeing it there with his eyes made all the time spent searching for it worthwhile.

  Later that evening Tina and Elliott met in his cabin and she told him she was sure they could expect an invitation to go onboard the Sea Tigress in the very near future. Elliott hoped she was right as, all things considered, everything appeared to be going to plan...more or less, but the sight of Billy’s corpse had shaken him. He was glad that Tina did not have to know about it.

  At nine the following morning Joe delivered the invitation personally and suggested they aim to get there at midday for a pre-lunch drink.

  Elliott and Tina were welcomed onboard by Trevor Hewitt who suggested that they might enjoy a look around the boat before having a drink and a bite of lunch on deck.

  ‘Would you care to give me the grand tour?’ Tina said, taking hold of Joe’s arm.

  ‘It will be my pleasure,’ he bowed in mock deference and led her aft and away from where Elliott stood with his nephew Tim. As soon as they were alone Elliot said.

  ‘What’s your uncle doing here? Renfrew didn’t mention him to me.’

  ‘Just a small complication that I wasn’t expecting either but don’t worry, it will not interfere with what we have to do.’

  ‘I’ve got a bit of news for you too. I went down to the dive site. It’s all there...and more.’

  ‘More?’

  ‘Yes. Something I’ve been searching for...hoping for, but didn’t expect to find there and certainly not then. It was quite a bonus really.’ He told Tim everything, everything except Billy’s ghastly death. That was not something anyone needed to know.

  Timothy Martin was recruited by MI6 while still at university. He had been trained in various aspects of covert ops and had even had a stint in bomb disposal while on a tour of Iraq. A veteran of many operations, his job was something that he’d kept well hidden from his mother and father. He felt bad about not confiding in his father, and when he died it was too late. He had the same guilty feelings about not confiding in his uncle Joe too, who after all was a military man, but the Official
Secrets Act made no allowances for family.

  ‘So, you say you’ve located the items to be retrieved. How deep are they?’

  ‘I have. They’re at a depth of around 90 feet but with the gear I have on board and your help it should not be too difficult.’

  ‘Good. I’m just helping out here part time so I’m available whenever you like. When are you thinking of going?’

  ‘Soon as possible I guess. There aren’t any thunderstorms predicted over the next three days. I checked with the captain.’

  ‘We could try tomorrow, if you’re up to it?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Elliott. ‘By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How come you hooked up with these guys?’

  ‘Bit of luck actually; I went to Victor, the guy who brought you, with the idea of getting him to bring me here but he had a party of divers to look after. I got talking to the film crew and managed to get them to take me on; otherwise it would have been a bit tricky and could have delayed me.’

  ‘That was lucky then,’ Elliott said, ‘I think I’ll get Tina to keep your uncle occupied; that should do the trick. I’m sure he won’t mind.’

  ‘I think I can guarantee that,’ Tim said grinning, ‘well, tomorrow it is. I’ll go over to you and we can set off soon as you like.’