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Story: Death at the Deep Dive
Ellery couldn’t help pointing out, “Wouldn’t all pirates’ treasures have a certain amount of mystery attached?”
“Hm. Good point. But here’s what I was getting at. Even if we go with your theory about who owned the collection bag and why it was concealed, it still doesn’t prove those coins came from theBlood Red Rose.”
“Ah.Okay. You’re right.”
“There are a lot of wrecks in the waters around this island.”
“True. I’ll give you that one.”
Jack laughed. “Thank you. And finally, even if your theories are correct about who owned the diving suit and collection bag, where the coins came from, and why they were hidden in the Historical Society’s collection, there’s still no proof that Vernon Shandy was murdered.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ellery objected. “Somethinghappened to him.”
“Something, yes. One way or the other, he left the island. That’s for sure. But the surrounding circumstances are unknown.” As Ellery opened his mouth to debate this, Jack continued, “And there are plenty of reasons the Shandys might want to conceal those circumstances.”
Tom returned to the table, bearing platters of golden deep-fried fish, crispy french fries, and tangy coleslaw. He set the sizzling plates before them. “Another round?”
Jack asked Ellery, “Are you driving back to Captain’s Seat or staying over?”
There had been a time, not so long ago, when Jack would not have so casually or so openly asked that question.
Ellery smiled. “If Watson and I haven’t worn out our welcome?”
Jack gave him the slightest of winks and said to Tom, “Another round, thanks.” He added to Ellery, “We can always walk home.”
Tom gave Ellery a droll look. “Coming right up!”
Tom departed, Ellery and Jack reached for the salt and pepper shakers, exchanged the vinegar bottle, repositioned the little jars of tartar sauce.
Jack broke off a piece of fried cod and said, as though there had been no interruption, “I’m not trying to bust your balloon. Obviously, there’s an element of mystery surrounding these events. It just doesn’t automatically, inevitably indicate murder.”
“Well, no, of course not.” Ellery chewed thoughtfully on a french fry.
Jack observed him for a moment. “Which isn’t going to stop you from poking your nose into other people’s business and asking a lot of awkward questions, is it?”
Ellery’s brows shot up in surprise. “Me?Come on, Jack, whatever happened to Vernon Shandy is none of my business. Anyway, even if something sinister did occur, it was over half a century ago. Nobody’s going to remember anything this long after the fact. Assuming anyone involved is still around. Which is unlikely. Right?”
Jack sighed, shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”
Chapter Three
“So Vernon Shandydidfind theBlood Red Rose!” Nora greeted Ellery when she arrived at the Crow’s Nest early Friday morning.
There had been a time when Ellery would have been amazed, even shocked, to discover that Nora Sweeny, assistant manager at the Crow’s Nest, already knew about his discovery of the gold doubloons. But in the eight months he’d lived on Buck Island, he’d gained a healthy respect for Pirate Cove’s, er, wireless communication system, i.e., local gossip network.
“That’s not for sure,” Ellery cautioned her. “We won’t even know if the coins are genuine until RIMAP has a chance to examine them.”
“Pshaw.” Nora accepted her vanilla-raspberry latte with a nod of thanks. “You know as well as I do those coins are genuine—and where they came from.”
Ellery shook his head, but he tended to agree with Nora. For the sake of argument, he said, “There are at least five major shipwrecks off the coast.”
“At theveryleast. And over twenty other shipwrecks, though how a shipwreck could ever be anything but major, I fail to see.”
She had a point there. Sir Francis Drake himself had referred to the island asa veritable stumbling-block in the way of the anxious navigator.
Nora added, “In any case, dearie, Vernon Shandy was only interested in one particular shipwreck.”
“TheBlood Red Rose.”
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