Billingsgate Shoal by Rick Boyer Page A

married a rich man who got richer, and I
will die rich. We had no children. The man I married grew apart from
me in recent years, and now appears to be dead. So that just makes it
official, I guess, that's all. So here I am, same as always."
    She slapped her hands down on her thighs, as if to
say: That's that. She was crying silently. The lady who had
everything had nothing. I had seen that so often among the rich.
Laura Kincaid certainly wasn't alone, although that could hardly have
been a comfort to her as she sat in the plush chair blinking away the
tears.
    "I'm sorry," I said, and patted her
shoulder.
    "Oh hell!" she cried, jumping up and wiping
her eyes.
    "I'm not crying because I'm hurt or because I'm
sad, I'm crying because it's so goddamn empty and boring."
    "I know. Listen, you should get away. Take a
trip somewhere. What's your favorite country?"
    "Italy."
    "Then go."
    She sighed, and agreed that maybe I was right.
    "Laura, I want to ask you one more question,
please. If we for a second assume that your husband's death or
disappearance was not accidental, can you tell me if there is anyone
who'd want him dead?"
    She thought for thirty or forty seconds—longer than
I expected her to—before answering that she didn't think so.
    As we were leaving the study, I noticed a photograph
on the wall near the door. I had walked past it upon entering. It was
an aerial view of an island. Next to it was a drawing of a cutaway
view of what looked like a mine shaft. I squinted at the drawing. At
various places along the shaft (which was  vertical) were
penciled-in remarks: "100 feet, stone tablet with inscription.
120 feet, oaken platform. 150 feet, rock layer," etc.
    "What's this?"
    "That is the great treasure at Oak Island, Nova
Scotia."
    "Oh yes, I've heard of it. Isn't the greatest
treasure of all time buried there?"
    "Yes, they think so. But so far, they can't get
it out. Every year people die trying. Walter was convinced that the
Capes held a similar treasure, and he eventually became obsessed with
finding it. Why don't you join me for a drink on the porch, and I'll
tell you about it."
    I declined the drink but accepted the invitation.
    We sat in the wide screened porch for twenty more
minutes. I gazed out over the vast expanse of green. The interior was
festooned with lush hanging plants. Laura Kincaid spoke a little more
about her husband's obsession with golden pirate treasure;
    "But he never really found it? The big haul?"
    "Nope. He never did. But he sure enjoyed himself
looking for it."
    ' And you say the Windhover was equipped with all kinds of electronic gear to help him locate
it?"
    "Oh God yes. Everything that a yachtsman could
buy and install, he did. That boat could find her way in and out of a
hurricane probably. That's the reason he selected an old trawler too;
he claimed the hull was more seaworthy. And now let me ask you some
questions."
    "Fine."
    "What happened to your hand?"
    "A kid hit me with his moped and broke it. One
of the reasons I have time on my hands is because of it. Should be OK
in a few weeks though."
    "Second question: why did you come here? What do
you I think happened to my husband?"
    "Well. I don't know. For a while I suspected he
was still alive. But after this visit I'm pretty convinced that your
suspicion is true. A boat that strikes a ledge—especially at
speed—goes down like a brick. If that happened, he wouldn't have
had time to call for help."
    "You mentioned another boat you saw. What was
its name?"
    ' ' Penelope .' '
    She sighed a slow, deliberate, and irritable sigh. "I
don't know how many draggers there are on Cape Cod or in New England,
but there must be quite a few. I'm sure some of them look alike. They
all look alike to me. I think it's strange though, that you're so
interested."
    "A young man, a friend of the family's, was
killed near the boat. I guess I'm a bit more than curious."
    She stared at me, tight lipped, for several seconds.
Then she lowered her head and