Blackman's Coffin (24 page)
“Don’t move!” A murky shadow passed us. Taylor picked up the flashlight. “Show me your hands.”
Nakayla and I lifted them from where we lay.
He shifted the light to the hand with the gun, bent down, and retrieved Armitage’s pistol. “Any more?”
“No,” I said.
“Take off the backpacks and toss them to me.”
Taylor unzipped all the pockets and dumped out the content. Then he ordered us to stand and face the wall. I didn’t know if he was going to execute us or frisk us. I didn’t want to take a chance.
“You know how we found this place?” I asked.
“Her sister,” he said. “And that’s bad luck for you.”
“No. It was the map drawn by her great-great grandfather.”
“Map?”
“That’s where we’ve been. Digging up his secrets.”
Taylor laughed. “I already know how to get here.”
“So will the world when I go missing and my lawyer delivers a certain envelope to the police.”
“The map’s not with you?”
“I’m not stupid. You’ve been watching us, haven’t you? Did you ever see us pull out of piece of paper? Parchment actually, drawn in 1919.”
Now the silence was longer.
“Then I guess I’ll have to retire to some exotic place without extradition and you can take comfort in knowing someone will find your bodies.”
My mind raced. Stay calm, I thought. What does he want to hear? “Or we could both retire very, very rich.”
“Nice try, but there’s not much left in this hole and Phil doesn’t want another partner.”
“That’s Phil’s bad luck because I’m not talking about this hole. And I’m tired of talking to this damn wall.” I turned around and faced him. “Do you want to run like a rat the rest of your life or do you want a real fortune?”
“What have you got?”
“You can reach in my pocket or I can do it.”
“Go ahead, but try anything and you’ll wind up like your pal.”
I pulled out the two emeralds and held them in his beam. “These can be proven to have come from this mine. More are with the map and they’ll irrefutably tie you, Phil, and his gems to this site. We’ve got plenty of these and you and Phil can keep your little game going without having to come back here.”
“So we still need Phil?”
“For the emeralds. But not for this.” I took out the gold bar. It was about two inches long, an inch high, and an inch wide. I kept my fist wrapped around it until Taylor had steadied the flashlight. Then I opened my hand like a magician materializing a dove out of thin air.
Taylor took in a short breath. I had his attention.
“Gold and emeralds don’t come from the same site. That’s why there’s a second map. Of course, we could do very well just selling this little guy. He’s got plenty of brothers and sisters.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“The key was in the journal, the one you took from Peters. But everything’s been moved.”
Taylor shone the spot straight in my eyes. “What’s to keep me from beating the location out of you?”
“Nothing. Except I don’t think I’ll talk. The Sunnis tried. Cost me a leg.” Taylor didn’t know any different. “But if my lawyer doesn’t hear from me tonight, the police will have the last word.”
“And the woman?” He jerked the beam over to Nakayla.
“She’s part of the deal.”
“Phil won’t like it. He killed her sister. And then he brings me the body, expecting me to clean up his mess. Same with the detective. Phil’s a damn hot-head. He panicked. He shot at you in the cemetery. I told him to wait till we knew where the woman was and we could walk right up to you.”
I sensed Nakayla stiffen beside me. She kept her face to the wall.
“You put Tikima in the river at Bent Creek?”
“Yes. The water level was high. We knew she’d be swept far downstream.”
“Well, money has a way of healing hard feelings. That’s what we’ve been after. Besides, I look at Phil as your problem.”
Taylor and I stood staring at each other. He was probably thinking how he could kill me and get the gold.
“Check it out.” I tossed the bar at his feet.
He stooped down without taking his eyes off me. Then he snatched up the gold. “How many brothers and sisters?”
“I don’t know. The weight of a body. They were in the coffin Elijah buried in Georgia. You’ve read the journal. Now you know what we figured out. Except we got there first.”
Taylor licked his lips. He looked at the bar again and this time his eyes lingered. “We’ll see.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means we’ll see. Turn around and put your hands back on the wall.”
I didn’t argue. I’d played all my cards.
He patted me down first, then Nakayla.
“Okay. Stay put.” He walked back to the door. The padlock clicked open. “You’re going in there till I can think this thing through.”
I wheeled around. “What’s there to think about?”
“I don’t like her being part of the deal.”
“And I don’t like Phil.”
“Phil’s on his way. I called him when I spotted you leaving the parking lot. I’ll try and stop him, but I need to go back far enough to pick up a cell phone signal. Either I’ll be back for you, or we’ll rename this Blackman’s coffin.”
“All right. But let’s put Armitage’s body in as well. Somebody could have heard the gunshot and I don’t want a hiker finding his body while you’re gone.”
“Even if it means you’d be rescued?”
“Don’t you get it? I want my share of the damn money and you’re not going to screw it up.” I grabbed Nakayla. “Come on.”
Taylor stepped aside. I scooped up the backpacks and items he’d scattered and tossed them through the door.
“Hold it,” Taylor said. “Leave the walking stick. I’ll take it.”
The heavy hickory was the one thing I could have used as a weapon.
“Fine.” I moved to Armitage and lifted him under his arms. He groaned.
“Still alive?” Taylor asked.
“Not for long. Get his feet, Nakayla.” I backed through the door, careful not to trip over the things under our feet. “Dump him where he’s not blocking the entrance.”
Taylor leaned in shining the light to the side. I laid Armitage down as gently as I dared without looking concerned. “I like Armitage’s coffin better than Blackman’s coffin.”
Taylor laughed. “Well then, stay close to the door. There are pits and shafts back in the quartz seams.” He slammed the door, leaving us smothered by the darkness.
“Wait,” I whispered.
The padlock clicked shut. I scurried toward the sound, feeling my way to the spot I’d dropped the candles and matches.
“Sam, what are we going to do?” Nakayla’s voice trembled but she wasn’t hysterical.
“Save Armitage if we can. Then be ready for Taylor.”
The edge of my palm bumped a candle. I grabbed it and then swept my hand over the dry rock till I found the matches.
The flickering flame helped me find the second candle. Quickly I lit it and brought both to Nakayla. She sat cradling Armitage’s head.
“He’s barely breathing,” she said.
I held a candle over him. Blood soaked the right side of his shirt.
“Went through the lung,” I said. “He’s losing a lot of blood. I can’t do anything about the internal bleeding.” I ripped off my shirt and wadded it into a ball. “Roll him on his side. The exit wound is usually worse.”
He still wore his backpack. I noticed the blood flow had clotted against the fabric. “Stop. The canvas is working like a bandage. Don’t pull it free.” I unzipped a pouch under him and found the ball of twine. I tried a longer one and pulled out the handpick. Now I had a weapon.
Nakayla slipped my wadded shirt inside Armitage’s and applied it like a compress. His shallow breaths gurgled, but at least he was breathing. I knew he was going into shock.
“Stay with him.” I left a candle beside her and took a few steps away from the door. The mine was about seven-feet high and ten-feet wide, but narrowed as it disappeared beyond the reach of the light. With the pick in one hand and candle in the other, I walked deeper into the mountain. Quartz crystals bounced the candle rays back at me. Scars of past excavation showed where the emerald hunters had gouged the wall. I’d gone no more than thirty feet when the first support timbers appeared. The shaft now sloped downward and narrowed to about eight feet in width. Then it split. The left side continued while the right went only a few yards and ended at a black abyss.
I leaned over and the candle light revealed the tops of rocks and boulders more than forty feet below. Had this shaft been dug or had it been a natural fissure like the one at the entrance? I suspected I was looking at a convenient hole for dumping the rubble from the second shaft that must have followed the emerald-bearing seam.
I took a few steps into the narrower way, now only a yard wide and less than five-feet high. Chunks of quartz underfoot made walking with my sensory-dead prosthesis difficult. I turned back and noticed a notch cut in the wall behind one of the support timbers. By tucking up beside the rough-hewn wood, I could be shielded from view. My only chance to get the drop on Taylor would be the element of surprise.
I hurried to Nakayla. “How is he?”
“Coming in and out of consciousness. He mumbled a few words but I couldn’t understand them.”
“Keep steady pressure on the wound.” Then I told her the plan.
I tied the twine around Armitage’s leg and unwound the ball as I walked toward the pit. At the edge, I threw it over. Several seconds passed before the line slackened and I knew the ball had hit bottom. The hole was deeper than I thought. I tugged to tighten the cord to Armitage and then dropped it to the floor. If Nakayla played her part right, Taylor would see the twine leading to the pit and assume I had fallen, taking his golden dreams with me.
Three times I practiced running from my hiding place. It took about three seconds to cover the distance around the split passages. If I waited too long, Taylor would see my body wasn’t at the bottom. If I sprang from my nook too soon, Taylor would spot me before he was at the pit. I’d get one swing with the handpick and I’d show no mercy.
“I’m ready,” I shouted.
Nakayla blew out her candle. “I’m praying, Sam.”
“And I’m sure Tikima’s putting in a good word for us. But the more terrified you sound, the better. Taylor’s got to believe I tumbled down that shaft.”
“Thank you for what you’ve done.” The sob in her voice told me no acting would be necessary.
“I wouldn’t have missed it. Now no more till we’re on the other side of this.” I pressed back against the rock and extinguished the candle.
Total blackness engulfed me like a hood. Without sight, my other senses intensified. I heard Armitage’s quick breaths, I smelled the dusty staleness of the trapped air, I tasted metal in the back of my throat as fear dried my mouth, and I kept touching the sharp point of the pick, reassured by its hardness.
I had no idea how long I stood there. I tried to push down the thought that Taylor had left us buried alive. Our only other option would be to take the pick to the door. The thick iron looked formidable. If it didn’t yield, I’d have to attack the rock around it.
My good leg began to cramp. I took a few steps to keep the muscles loose. Then I heard the rattle of the lock.
Even the slight amount of light coming from the open door was enough for my dilated eyes to see the jagged edges of quartz opposite me. I had the vision advantage as long as I didn’t look directly into the flashlight beam.
Nakayla screamed hysterically. “Something happened to Sam. He tried to find a way out, unraveling string behind him. I heard him cry. Then nothing.” She broke down in sobs.
“God damn it.”
The voice wasn’t Taylor’s. Phil Ledbetter had come with him. There would be no deal.
“Stupid son of a bitch,” Taylor said.
A jerky pattern of lights flickered over the quartz as both men ran to the pit.
I took a deep breath. When the beams were masked by the wall between us, I leapt forward, raising the pick beside my head. Rounding the turn, I saw them peering over the edge. Taylor stood closer to me. He twisted at the sound of my footsteps.
I swung the pick as hard as I could, aiming for the broadest target. The head drove through his side, cracking ribs with the impact. Taylor toppled backwards, flashlight and gun falling from his hands.
I tried to wrench the pick free, but the point had sunk so deep that if I held on, I’d be pulled into the pit with him.
Ledbetter dove at me, butting my stomach with his head and knocking me to the ground. He didn’t have a gun but swung his flashlight like a blackjack trying to crush my skull. I blocked the brunt of the blow with my forearm and used the momentum of his swing to roll him over. He kept rolling and wound up on top of me. I could feel my good leg dangling over the pit.
He raised his arm to strike again, but this time I grabbed his wrist. I yanked it down and sank my teeth to the bone. Blood gushed from severed veins. He yelled and struck the side of my head furiously with his other fist. I brought my good leg up under him, opened my mouth, and kicked him as he tore the bleeding wrist free.
He slid over the lip of the pit but managed to grab my artificial foot with his uninjured hand. I felt his full weight tugging on my stump. I started to slide and frantically grabbed at the rocks around me.
Hands snared me under the arms. Nakayla’s thin fingers dug into my bare skin. “Kick him off,” she shouted.
“Let go of my left arm but hold on to the right.”
I reached down and pushed the release. The leg broke free of the sleeve.
Ledbetter’s scream echoed in the cave a few seconds after the rocks split his skull.
Nakayla helped me to Armitage. She relit the candle. “You’re bleeding.”
“But I’m breathing. And so is Armitage.” Gently I wedged my hand into his backpack and found what I wanted. “Here’s his cell. Get out of here and call Detective Newland. Tell him we need air med evacuation if possible and mountainous terrain rescue. Tell him to call the rangers. Don’t come back unless you’re with a med team.”
“Do I tell him what happened?”
“Just say Armitage was shot and the situation is not hostile. If he wants to call you back after a medical team’s been dispatched, fine. But don’t tell him about Stanley or the gold and emeralds. I’ll handle that. Now get out of here.”