trying to get through to her and she was being too cavalier about it? She’d read about these things before, but had always considered people who talked about ghosts or claimed to have seen them as delusional, on drugs, or just plain bizarre. But then again, hadn’t she herself joked about the apparitions from her dreams possibly following her to Ireland? It’s not as if she hadn’t entertained the thought of another world, as odd as that sounded. Maybe Barbara was on to something. Maybe these were people she didn’t know yet.
TEN
As usual, Catherine was late. She’d given up taking a taxi since the streets were jammed. Some demonstration had stalled traffic on Fifth Avenue, so she hit the sidewalk running, which wasn’t easy given the throng of pedestrians. She couldn’t even call Frank on her cell phone because she’d forgotten to charge it the night before. She remembered a sixth grade teacher telling her lateness was the height of rudeness. When a person was late, they were in effect saying their time was more valuable than anyone else’s. She’d never seen herself as selfish, but maybe that was part of the problem. It was also unprofessional, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
They’d decided to meet in the Rose Reading Room of the New York Public Library, the most spectacular room in the city. With its lofty ceiling covered by a mural of blue sky and cumulus clouds, the room reminded her of a grand ballroom. Its old world décor—of original chandeliers and bronze lamps—made it the perfect place to examine maps that could lead them to a sixteenth century ship.
It took her awhile to find the three men, as the room was two city blocks long and populated by several hundred patrons. Even so, the library was surprisingly quiet. She saw them sitting at a long oak table at the back of the room, away from the other visitors.
“You’re late,” said Hennesey in a low voice, setting the tone for the rest of the meeting. “If you do this when we’re over there, I’m not waiting for you.”
She gave him a plastic smile and then said to Daniel and Frank, “Sorry about that. I tried to hail a cab, and—”
“No need to apologize,” said Frank. “This is New York. We all know what a headache it is to get anywhere.”
Catherine mouthed thanks and sat down beside Frank and directly across from Hennesey.
Daniel, who sat next to Hennesey, winked at her. “Hennesey was about to show us the dive site.”
She wished Daniel wasn’t so good looking. It was distracting. She pulled herself away from his gaze and focused on the large book in front of Hennesey. It was the Dive Atlas of the World—an Illustrated Reference to the Best Sites.
Hennesey opened the atlas to the map of Ireland. He placed a finger on a spot north of Galway on the west coast. “Here’s where I hope to go. Near as I’ve been able to determine, one of the ships from the Spanish Armada went down here in 1588 and was never recovered.”
Catherine studied the map. “When the Spaniards failed to conquer the English, didn’t they try to sail home on the Atlantic?”
Hennesey nodded. “Unfortunately for them, they encountered severe storms and more than twenty-four vessels got wrecked off the western coast of Ireland. There’s still a few that haven’t been found.”
Catherine said, “You’d think that coastline would’ve been fully explored by now.”
Hennesey pulled out a journal. “This is one of the places I checked for that.”
“ The Journal of Maritime Research ,” said Daniel. “I’m impressed.”
Hennesey rolled his eyes and flipped the pages to one marked with a yellow tag. “It says here, on the fifteenth of September, two ships were with the Girona when it crossed Donegal Bay and anchored near Killybegs. They were both lost, probably in the gale that occurred on the twenty-first of September.”
Frank leaned forward for a closer look. “But the Girona was found
TEN
As usual, Catherine was late. She’d given up taking a taxi since the streets were jammed. Some demonstration had stalled traffic on Fifth Avenue, so she hit the sidewalk running, which wasn’t easy given the throng of pedestrians. She couldn’t even call Frank on her cell phone because she’d forgotten to charge it the night before. She remembered a sixth grade teacher telling her lateness was the height of rudeness. When a person was late, they were in effect saying their time was more valuable than anyone else’s. She’d never seen herself as selfish, but maybe that was part of the problem. It was also unprofessional, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
They’d decided to meet in the Rose Reading Room of the New York Public Library, the most spectacular room in the city. With its lofty ceiling covered by a mural of blue sky and cumulus clouds, the room reminded her of a grand ballroom. Its old world décor—of original chandeliers and bronze lamps—made it the perfect place to examine maps that could lead them to a sixteenth century ship.
It took her awhile to find the three men, as the room was two city blocks long and populated by several hundred patrons. Even so, the library was surprisingly quiet. She saw them sitting at a long oak table at the back of the room, away from the other visitors.
“You’re late,” said Hennesey in a low voice, setting the tone for the rest of the meeting. “If you do this when we’re over there, I’m not waiting for you.”
She gave him a plastic smile and then said to Daniel and Frank, “Sorry about that. I tried to hail a cab, and—”
“No need to apologize,” said Frank. “This is New York. We all know what a headache it is to get anywhere.”
Catherine mouthed thanks and sat down beside Frank and directly across from Hennesey.
Daniel, who sat next to Hennesey, winked at her. “Hennesey was about to show us the dive site.”
She wished Daniel wasn’t so good looking. It was distracting. She pulled herself away from his gaze and focused on the large book in front of Hennesey. It was the Dive Atlas of the World—an Illustrated Reference to the Best Sites.
Hennesey opened the atlas to the map of Ireland. He placed a finger on a spot north of Galway on the west coast. “Here’s where I hope to go. Near as I’ve been able to determine, one of the ships from the Spanish Armada went down here in 1588 and was never recovered.”
Catherine studied the map. “When the Spaniards failed to conquer the English, didn’t they try to sail home on the Atlantic?”
Hennesey nodded. “Unfortunately for them, they encountered severe storms and more than twenty-four vessels got wrecked off the western coast of Ireland. There’s still a few that haven’t been found.”
Catherine said, “You’d think that coastline would’ve been fully explored by now.”
Hennesey pulled out a journal. “This is one of the places I checked for that.”
“ The Journal of Maritime Research ,” said Daniel. “I’m impressed.”
Hennesey rolled his eyes and flipped the pages to one marked with a yellow tag. “It says here, on the fifteenth of September, two ships were with the Girona when it crossed Donegal Bay and anchored near Killybegs. They were both lost, probably in the gale that occurred on the twenty-first of September.”
Frank leaned forward for a closer look. “But the Girona was found
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