Plum Island

'Why?'

'Why? Isn't that the biohazard warning siren?'

'It is. It's a test. I ordered a test. Everyone who has hurricane duty on the island is in the lab wearing biohazard gear, going through the drill of biocontainment.'

'In other words, we're not all going to die?'

'No. Only you are going to die.'

I was afraid he was going to say that. I informed him, in an official tone, 'Whatever you may have done is not as serious as committing murder.'

'Actually, I haven't committed a single crime, and killing you is going to be a pleasure.'

'Killing a policeman is-'

'You're a trespasser, and for all I know, a saboteur, a terrorist, and a murderer. Sorry I didn't recognize you.'

I tensed my body, ready to make the dash for the hole, knowing it was a useless try, but I had to give it a shot.

Stevens continued, 'You knocked out two of my teeth and split my lip. Plus you know too damned much.' He added, 'I'm rich, and you're dead. Bye-bye, bozo.'

I said to him, 'Fuck you, asshole.' I charged toward the hole, looking not at the barbed wire, but at him as I ran. He steadied the rifle and drew a bead on me. He really couldn't miss.

A shot rang out, but there was no muzzle flash from his rifle and no searing pain shooting through my body. As I reached the fence and was about to vault over the barbed wire and plunge headfirst into the hole, I saw Stevens jumping down into the pit to finish me off. At least that's what I thought. But in fact, he was falling forward and he landed facedown on the concrete pavement. I collided with the barbed wire and came to a halt.

I stood there a moment, frozen, watching him. He twitched around awhile, like he'd been hit in the spinal column, so he was basically a goner. I heard that unmistakable pre-lights-out gurgle. Finally, the twitching and gurgling stopped. I looked up at the top of the wall. Beth Penrose was staring down at Paul Stevens, her pistol trained on him.

I said, 'How'd you get here?'

'Walked.'

'I mean-'

'I came looking for you. I spotted him and followed.'

'Lucky for me.'

'Not so for him,' she replied.

I said, 'Say, 'Freeze, police!' '

She replied, 'Fuck that.'

'I'm with you.' I added, 'He was about to kill me.'

'I know that.'

'You could have fired a little sooner.'

'I hope you're not critiquing my performance.'

'No, ma'am. Good shooting.'

She asked me, 'Are you okay?'

'Yeah. How about you?'

'I'm just fine. Where's Tobin?'

'He's… not here.'

She glanced down at Stevens again and asked me, 'What's with him?'

'Just a scavenger.'

'Did you find the treasure?'

'No, but Stevens did.'

'Do you know where it is?'

'I was about to ask him.'

'No, John, he was about to put a bullet in you.'

'Thank you for saving my life.'

'You owe me a small favor for that.'

'Right. So, that's it-case closed,' I said.

'Except for the treasure. And Tobin. Where is he?'

'Oh, he's around here somewhere.'

'Is he armed? Is he dangerous?'

'No,' I replied, 'he has no guts.'

* * *

We sheltered from the storm in a concrete bunker. We huddled for warmth, but we were so cold, neither of us slept. We talked into the night, rubbing each other's arms and legs to ward off hypothermia.

Beth bugged me about Tobin's whereabouts, and I gave her an edited version of the confrontation in the ammunition storage room, saying that I'd stabbed him and he was mortally wounded.

She said, 'Shouldn't we get him medical attention?'

I replied, 'Of course. First thing in the morning.'

She didn't reply for a few seconds, then said, simply, 'Good.'

Before dawn, we made our way back to the beach.

The storm had passed and before the helicopter or boat patrols came out, we replaced the shear pin and took the Whaler out to the Chris-Craft. I pulled the self-bailing plug in the Whaler and let the small craft sink. Then we took Tobin's cabin cruiser to Greenport where we called Max. He met us at the dock and drove us to police headquarters where we showered and got into sweatsuits and warm socks. A local doc checked us over and suggested antibiotics and bacon and eggs, which sounded fine.

We had breakfast in Max's conference room and made a report to the chief. Max was amazed, incredulous, pissed-off, happy, envious, relieved, worried, and so forth. He kept saying, 'Captain Kidd's treasure? Are you sure?'

During my second breakfast, Max inquired, 'So, only Stevens knew the location of this treasure?'

I replied, 'I think so.'

He stared at me, then at Beth and said, 'You wouldn't hold back on me, would you?'

I replied, 'Of course I would. If we knew where twenty million bucks in gold and jewels were, you'd be the last to know, Max. But the fact is, the stuff is missing again.' I added, 'However, we know it exists and we know Stevens had it for a short period of time. So, maybe with some luck, the cops or the Feds can find it.'

Beth added, 'That treasure has caused so many deaths that I really think it's cursed.'

Max shrugged and replied, 'Cursed or not, I'd like to find it.' He added, 'For historical reasons.'

'Absolutely.'

Max seemed unable to take all of this in and process it, and he kept repeating questions to which he'd already gotten answers.

I said to him, 'If this debriefing is becoming an interrogation, then I have to either call my lawyer or beat the shit out of you.'

Max forced a smile and said, 'Sorry… this is just mind-blowing…'

Beth said, 'Thank us for doing a good job.'

'Thank you for doing a good job.' He said to me, 'I'm glad I hired you.'

'You fired me.'

'Did I? Forget that.' He asked me, 'Did I understand you to say that Tobin was dead?'

'Well… not the last time I saw him… I mean, I guess I should have stressed that you need to get him some medical attention.'

Max looked at me a moment, then inquired, 'Where exactly is this underground room?'

I gave him directions as best I could, and Max quickly disappeared to make a phone call.