The Columbus Affair: A Novel

have not been as hampered

.

Another tale that has gained momentum through the centuries is one I heard as a child concerning Columbus’ lost gold mine. By 1600 Spain had tripled the amount of European gold that had been in circulation prior to Columbus’ first voyage. A story developed of how Columbus found a mine on Jamaica but concealed its location from everyone, including the Spanish Crown. My grandfather was fascinated with the story and told me about it, along with introducing me to Columbus’s signature

.

It is unusual, to say the least—a cipher that has never been decoded. Why did he not simply sign his name? Why a triangular-shaped series of letters that could mean almost anything? And why the hooked X’s that appear in two locations? My grandfather always alluded to this but never explained the significance. As with so much else, we simply do not know the real story. But it is hard not to become enthralled. I know I did. So much that the subject of Christopher Columbus has formed the basis of my academic life

.

Zachariah stopped reading Alle Becket’s article. He’d fished it from his satchel to refresh his memory.

Thankfully, he maintained a worldwide watch for any mention of Christopher Columbus. Google Alerts and similar referral services kept him abreast of anything pertaining to that subject.

One day an article in Minerva had flagged.

Most of it was nothing new, but two words grabbed his attention.

Hooked X’s.

Only a few people in the world knew to use that phrase in conjunction with Christopher Columbus.

So he’d located Alle Becket.

Now he’d found Tom Sagan.

Clearly, he was in the right place.

And tomorrow he’d be inside the Levite’s grave.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TOM ENTERED HIS HOUSE, THE ONE PLACE LEFT ON THE PLANET where he felt a margin of comfort. He stayed here the majority of his time, behind closed windows and a locked door. He’d tried an apartment and a condo, but had not liked the close proximity of neighbors. He didn’t want to know anybody and he sure as hell didn’t want anybody knowing him. He liked solitude, and his nondescript rental, located at the end of a long block on Orlando’s south side, offered exactly that.

The visit to Abiram’s grave still unnerved him.

As had the car that appeared, then disappeared.

On the drive back his thoughts had returned to the deed sent to him for the house. When it arrived in the mail the lawyer had also included one other item.

A short, handwritten note.

He needed to see it again, so he opened the drawer where he’d tossed both it and the deed three years ago.

He unfolded the pages and, for the second time, read.

The house is yours. You were raised there so you should own it. I was born a simple Jew. My faith and religion were important to me. Those were not important for you. I can’t say I understand that. Sadly, though we are of the same blood, we’re strangers. A lot of life was wasted between us. Things changed. Unfortunately, there is no way to go back. It’s all over. If it matters, I know you were not a fraud. Whatever the explanation for what happened, it wasn’t that you made up that news story. I want you to know that I

felt the pain of your destruction, though I realize I kept that to myself. Son, I kept a great deal to myself. Things that would surprise you. Now I take those secrets with me to my grave. Please understand that I always tried to do the honorable thing. I hope maybe one day you will, too

.

No I’m sorry. No I love you. No Good luck. Not even a Go to hell.

Just matter-of-fact.

And those last two lines. The honorable thing.

Typical Abiram.

On his high horse right to the end.

Three years ago he hadn’t really understood “Now I take those secrets with me to my grave.” He’d thought it more parental dramatics. Now he wasn’t so sure. How would Zachariah Simon know anything about what may or may not be inside the grave? The only explanation was that Alle had told him.

What did she know?

He stepped to the window and glanced outside. The street was devoid of traffic, the neighborhood deep in its daily slumber. Not many children lived here. More retirees enjoying Florida’s sun and no state income tax.