Pirate

  “I didn’t think of it that way. Let’s hope Professor Aldridge gets in touch with this other expert.”

  Aldridge stepped outside of the shop to make the call, then returned shortly after. “Sorry, but Swift’s wife said he’s not due back until later this afternoon. Business trip. She’ll call me as soon as he gets in. But I do think you’ll be fine using Percy. He’d want to do this. Especially if there was a chance that it led to something of historical significance.”

  If they were on a simple expedition, sure. Sam looked at his watch. Just past noon. It was looking like they didn’t have a choice. Nigel was out there, and Percy was their only option. If he couldn’t find this map, then maybe he could remember the location and point them to it. Sam explained everything to Aldridge, including why he didn’t want the police involved.

  “That certainly changes things,” Aldridge said. “Let me see if I can settle him down long enough to figure out where this chart is. I’m fairly certain he keeps it in the shop, which is probably why he led us here to begin with. He does get distracted by the caverns.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said. “We appreciate your help.”

  Sam and Remi waited outside while Aldridge spoke with Percy.

  They looked in through the window, discussing what to do if Percy couldn’t find the chart. “Maybe,” Remi said, “he’ll remember the general vicinity of the four caverns. We could have Aldridge drive him there while we follow. He won’t even have to get out of the car. Just point to the location, then Aldridge could take him home.”

  “That might be our only option,” he said as Aldridge called them back inside.

  “Good news,” Aldridge said. “Percy and I had a little chat about those caverns.”

  Percy was holding a cardboard tube. “My friend tells me you’re interested in the Nottingham caves. Some of my favorites. Been visiting them since I was a boy.”

  Aldridge tapped Percy on the shoulder. “Show them the map, Percy.”

  “Right.” He walked over to the table and pulled the top off the tube. Tipping it over, he slid out a large printed map of Nottingham, which he spread out on the counter. Thick red pencil lines were drawn all over it, with notations scrawled in various places. “Been mapping the things as long as I can remember. These are my favorite,” he said, tapping the spot where they were now standing.

  Sam eyed the map, noting a cloverleaf pattern drawn near the grounds of Nottingham Castle and the notation Four Caverns written above it. “Tell us about this place,” he said.

  Fifty-one

  It’s the four caverns,” Percy said. “Dangerous place, that. Lots of twists and turns. Some of the chambers drop right down. Too easy to fall. These, though,” he pointed toward the tailor’s shop again. “Much easier to get in. First ones I ever went into. Used to be wine cellars.”

  Remi put her hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Definitely my favorite. But these,” she said, pointing to the clover, indicating the four caverns. “Where do we find them?”

  “Behind the ivy. Lot of those caves were hidden when the houses were built. There’s an ancient stone wall in the park. The ivy grows right over it. See the X?”

  Sam leaned in close and saw the entrance was actually marked. “Would you mind if I took a photograph?”

  “Not at all,” Percy said.

  Sam took a few photos with his phone while Remi asked, “When’s the last time you were there?”

  “Years ago. Used to take some of my students on tours down there. It’s still there. You came with me, remember?” he said to Aldridge.

  “Vaguely. We’ve traipsed through a lot of caves.”

  Percy nodded. “This one I like because it’s right there, but no one even knows. Through the ivy. That’s how a lot of them are. Lost. But right there in their own backyards.”

  Sam and Remi left for Nottingham Park, a neighborhood that had once been the deer park for Nottingham Castle. The area they were looking for—from what Percy had described to them—had a greenbelt running between some of the grand houses set on large parcels. Unfortunately, what he didn’t have was an exact address, and as Sam drove around, they realized the description fit several areas.

  It wasn’t until Selma called with a piece of information that allowed them to fit a puzzle piece into place. He pulled over. “Can you repeat that?” Sam said as he put her on speakerphone. “I want to make sure we heard you right.”

  “Grace Herbert-Miller’s cousin,” Selma said. “The one who inherited the estate in Nottingham?”

  “Something McGregor, wasn’t it?” Sam said.

  “Henry McGregor. I did some checking. This estate he inherited is in that very neighborhood.” She read off the address. “The property’s up for sale, and nobody’s living there at the moment. But we called and Mr. McGregor said you’re welcome to go anywhere on the property that you want.”

  Remi plugged it into the GPS on her phone. When it came up, she and Sam compared it to the map that Percy had given them. Almost in the middle of his red clover marking the four caverns he’d talked about.

  “X marks the spot,” she said.

  Sam dug out his backpack, pulling out what they needed for their initial foray into the cave—should they be lucky enough to find it. He and Remi each took a compact Stinger flashlight and case, a four-inch Buck Knife, and a magnetic compass. Sam carried his gun in the hidden holster of his fishing vest and his knife in its case on his belt. Remi wore a pancake holster with her P938 nine-millimeter, pushing it toward the small of her back so it wouldn’t be readily visible.

  They drove to the address given for the McGregor property. Other than the sign out front listing the estate for sale, there was nothing to indicate that there was anything unusual about the place. It was Remi who pointed out that the property lines could’ve changed over the centuries. “Who knows if the Herbert or McGregor ancestors parceled any of this out, way back when. The entrance might be on someone else’s property by now. Never mind that there’s no ivy here. Percy mentioned something about ivy.”

  Sam let his foot off the gas as he looked at the McGregor property.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Drive around and see if we can’t find some ivy.” He glanced in his rearview mirror and saw a car pull onto the street behind.

  “There!” Remi pointed to the right of the McGregor estate. “A lot of ivy in that park.”

  Not quite a park, it was a greenbelt running between the two homes with a graveled footpath. Right now, though, Sam was more worried about the car behind him—until he saw it pull into the drive at the corner and caught a glimpse of the woman driving and the young boy sitting in the front passenger seat.

  He continued past the greenbelt, when Aldridge called. “Bit of a problem,” he said after Remi put him on speakerphone. “I just got off the phone with Swift’s wife. He’s just returned from meeting with someone about the caves. I’m assuming these are the men you’re worried about.”

  There was no doubt in Sam’s mind who Swift met with, which meant Fisk and company were probably on their way to the caves. “Thanks for the update.”

  Remi shifted in her seat to get a better look as Sam continued down the street. “I don’t see any other ivy in the area. Maybe that’s really the entrance.”

  “It certainly looks like it. Right now, I’d like to find a place to park without being seen.”

  “You think it’s really there?”

  “The treasure?” Sam said. “Wouldn’t Percy have found it in all his wanderings? Or someone else during the last eight hundred years?”

  “I was thinking more of a clue.” She gave a faint smile. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Sam drove a bit farther, making a U-turn as the rain started up again. “A lot of other treasures out there waiting to be found. If we don’t find this one, it isn’t the end of the world.”

&nbsp
; Remi picked up her phone. “Slow down. I’ll take a few pictures on our way out.”

  He let his foot off the gas while Remi took a few photos of the ivy vines cascading down the stone wall. Now that he had a better look at it, he realized the crumbling, ivy-covered wall against the side of that low hill didn’t really seem to belong to anything—maybe left over from some other time before the current houses had been built in the area.

  That had to be it, he thought, when he saw a blue BMW turn the corner up ahead. He threw the car in reverse and backed into the drive across from the park.

  “What’s wrong?” Remi asked.

  “Company.”

  Fifty-two

  Rain splattered down on the windshield, blurring their vision, but Sam wasn’t about to turn the wipers on and risk being seen. Not after seeing the BMW pull up to the park. Ivan and Alexandra were in the front, Jak and Nigel in the back. Ivan got out of the driver’s seat, opened the back door, pulling Nigel out by his arm. Jak and Alexandra followed close behind, the four walking into the park.

  A moment later, Fisk’s black Mercedes pulled up behind the BMW. He and two stocky, dark-haired men got out. Sam saw the bulk of handguns beneath their matching brown leather coats. “Fisk’s brought reinforcements.”

  Sam and Remi watched as they entered the park, walking toward the wall of ivy. Apparently Alexandra was left to guard Nigel while Jak and Ivan picked up a couple of sticks, poking them into the thick ivy vines, searching for the entrance. Ivan turned toward Nigel, saying something, and Nigel nodded at the ivy as though he had some knowledge of the location. Jak moved to the opposite end, poking his stick in and out of the vines.

  “We have to do something, Sam. We can’t let them take Nigel down there.”

  “I wasn’t expecting so many men. We rush in now, we might as well be stepping into a viper’s nest.”

  “At least they’re not golden lancehead vipers.”

  Fisk said something to Alexandra, who moved closer to Nigel as he and his new henchmen started exploring the greenbelt. Right now, the odds of a rescue didn’t look good. They’d be seen the moment they left the car and started walking down the drive to the park.

  “So what’s the plan?” Remi asked.

  “You mean, miracle?” Trying to rescue Nigel while avoiding five armed men and possibly one armed woman—with very little cover other than a few hedges—was going to be a lot harder than they’d anticipated.

  “There’s always Bree,” Remi said.

  Sam glanced over at her. “What about her?”

  “She’s passed on information to her cousin before. Why not now? Why not make them think they’re in the wrong location? They leave, we follow, and find a better place to get to Nigel.”

  Sam weighed the risks. Lazlo and Selma had gone to great pains to make sure that the only information Bree passed on to her cousin was that she hadn’t been in touch with Sam and Remi. They had the perfect setup, Bree passing info on to Larayne, Larayne passing it on to Jak or Ivan. If it worked, Avery’s henchmen would soon be racing off to explore some other tunnels.

  If it didn’t and those men found the tunnel entrance and took Nigel down there, he doubted he’d get the man out alive. “Looks like Bree’s our only option.”

  Remi made the call, giving Selma a quick rundown on what they needed. She held out the phone for Sam. “Selma said that Lazlo finished the translation.”

  Whatever Lazlo had found could wait. They needed to get Nigel out of there, and he got right to the point. “Remi told you what we need. Will it work?”

  “It should,” Selma told him. “We’ve monitored every call between Bree and her cousin since Snake Island. As far as Larayne knows, we don’t know where you are.”

  “Which plays into this perfectly.” The wind gusted and rain poured down, but none of them moved from the park. “Try to get it so Larayne asks Bree if she’s heard from us first. If Bree offers up the information, her cousin might become suspicious.”

  “Understood. And if Larayne does ask? What disinformation are we passing on to her?”

  “Anything that will move them away from the cave entrance. They know it’s in the vicinity, but they haven’t found it yet. We need them out of the area or we’ll never get Nigel out.”

  “We could use the priory where Robin Hood was buried.”

  “I think we need a better connection to King John—and something closer.”

  “There’s Nottingham Castle,” Selma said. “Documented caves and tunnels, some of which even fit the names on the map.”

  “Let’s go with the castle. If we can get them out of this area, we might have a better opportunity to get Nigel.”

  “You’re not going to search it?”

  “There’s no reason to. Even if we did get in, we don’t know what we’re looking for.”

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you. Lazlo finished the translation. It’s a riddle. Above death, below death, with my last meal.”

  “Which means what?”

  “Lazlo thinks the Celtic knot engraved on the center of the cipher might have something to do with the riddle. That type of pattern is called interlacing. Sort of like basket weaving. Above and below, like in the riddle. The Celts were known to hide things in the pattern. Pull off layers of the interlacing to see the pattern below. Maybe it’s a pattern of the tunnels that leads to the treasure. We haven’t quite figured out the answer to the riddle, but we’re working on it.”

  The riddle could wait. “Have Bree make the call to her cousin,” he said.

  Fifty-three

  A few minutes later, Selma called back, saying the conversation went as expected. “Hopefully, you should see some action on your end once the information’s passed on. Assuming they believe the information.”

  They did. Just as Jak poked his stick into the ivy, his arm nearly disappearing through the vines, he backed up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his cell phone. After a brief conversation, he called Fisk over.

  “Look at Nigel,” Remi said. “I think he’s trying to make a break for it.”

  Alexandra’s attention was fixed on Fisk and Jak. Nigel edged away from her toward the ivy, then bolted through the vines, disappearing from view.

  “I don’t know if that was brilliant or idiotic,” Sam said, one hand on his gun, the other on the door.

  “Can’t be any more brilliant and idiotic than our plan trying to get them to move.”

  They watched as Jak and Ivan seemed to balk at entering the cave, until Fisk pulled a gun on them. Alexandra shook her head as though exasperated, walked up to the ivy, parted the vines, and followed them in. Fisk lifted the vines, then stepped back, and Sam wondered if he was trying to decide if the phone call about Nottingham Castle was worth following up. He turned, tossing something to one of the new guys, probably the keys, since they both walked toward the Mercedes. And then Fisk followed the others into the cave.

  “Guess our plan worked after all,” Sam said as the Mercedes drove off.

  “Not quite how we wanted.”

  “We got rid of two of them. That’s a start. Text Selma that we’re going into the caves to get Nigel.”

  “So she knows where to send the cavalry?”

  “Gotta have a backup plan.”

  They waited a minute to make sure no one was popping out of the ivy before making their way down the long drive and across the street to the park.

  Remi followed Sam through the heavy, gnarled ivy vines into the dark passageway. They stood there a moment, guns drawn, acclimating themselves to the dim passage. The rain fell harder, splattering against the ivy leaves behind them, covering any noise they made as they started down the steep passage. They had to walk single file, following the twisting path down, the tunnel floor gritty beneath their feet. Sam gripped his flashlight in his hand, covering up most of it so that only a sliver of l
ight escaped to illuminate their path.

  The floor dipped sharply, then raised again. Eventually the tunnel widened into a chamber, much like the one they’d been in with Percy. They stopped, and Sam peered out, then backed quickly and held up his hand.

  They heard the scrape of footsteps, then someone saying, “Down this way.”

  They waited until the echo of footsteps faded from the chamber before stepping out.

  Sam shined his muted light across the sandstone walls and saw several rough-hewn tunnels leading off from the main chamber. Something caught Remi’s eye at the top and she pointed. The Celtic knot Percy had mentioned, carved in the sandstone above the opening. She checked each of the other tunnels that led off the cavern. Five tunnels in total, four with an identical Celtic knot carved above it. The fifth, with no marking at all, was the upper tunnel that led up to the park.

  Sam eyed the symbols again. They must lead to the four chambers Lazlo had told them about. He flicked his light at the opening of each passageway, then pointed to the third. Footprints in the sandstone floor. The other passageways had none.

  The space was wide enough for two to walk abreast, but took even more twists as it descended. Unlike the tunnel that led in from the park, this one had several smaller passages breaking away on each side.

  The main passage started narrowing as it made a steep slope downward, then curved to the right about twenty yards ahead. They hit a dip, and their feet scraped against the ground. The sound carried.

  Sam shut off the light, and they stopped.

  “What was that?” It sounded like Jak. “Someone’s coming down from that main chamber.”

  “It’s Victor and Rogen,” Fisk said. “Hopefully, back with flashlights since you idiots only brought cell phones.”

  Their plan didn’t work, a fact confirmed when Ivan asked, “What about that call from Larayne? Why isn’t anyone going to the castle?”