A CRY FROM THE DEEP (12 page)

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 further up the coast, near the northern end.”

Hennesey lowered his voice even more, as if there were other divers nearby who could overhear. “There are conflicting stories about the two missing galleons. Some say they got as far north as County Sligo, but if they had they would’ve been found. It seems there was at least one eyewitness who saw the other two leave Killybegs later than the
Girona
, and once the storm hit, they were tossed somewhere south of the Aran Islands.”

Daniel met Hennesey’s gaze. “And you got this last bit of information from…?”

“I have my sources.” Hennesey folded his arms and sat back. “Journals, reports, fishermen’s tales. Where the
Girona
went down has been combed with no results. Given that, I figure it’s worth searching the area south of that site.”

Catherine stared at the map. “Like Clive Cussler says, shipwrecks are never where they’re supposed to be.”

“He’s got that right,” said Daniel smiling. The way he looked at her was unnerving. As if they’d known one another before. She wished she could shake that feeling. Dismissing her thoughts, she studied the map again.

Hennesey scratched his bald spot. “I found a seventeenth-century mariner map of Ireland and matched its coastlines to today’s charts. I’ve also checked out any troublesome rocks and other danger spots around the headlands there.”

Catherine had to give him credit. The man was meticulous in his planning. “You’ve done your homework.” 

Hennesey’s eyes sparkled with the compliment. “And to whet your appetite further, it’s also near the site of the
Laurentic
.”

“How about that?” said Frank. “I’d forgotten that ship went down around there.”

Catherine knew of the wreck but hadn’t realized it was off the Donegal coast. It’d been carrying a heavy shipment of gold and silver to the United States for the war effort, when it sank in the Atlantic in 1917.

Hennesey continued, “As you’ve probably read, most of the gold was recovered, but twenty bars and all of the silver still lie on the gravel seabed. It’s probably buried under her.”

Daniel scoffed, “You don’t expect to find any, do you?”

“Why not?”

“There’ve been over seven thousand dives in that area already.”

“So, we’ll be seven thousand and one. That is, if we strike out on the Spanish wreck and need something to do to make our trip worthwhile.”

On the map, Daniel traced his finger down the north Atlantic coast and stopped at Galway. “About this phantom ship you’re chasing. If it’s supposed to be as close to the
Laurentic
as you indicate, don’t you think one of the divers would have found it by now?”

“You know as well as I do, a mile in either direction is huge. It’s possible to survey the area and not find anything. Look how long it took them to find the
Titanic
.”

Frank said to Hennesey, “Twenty bars, huh?”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll get both: a ship from the Armada and some of that missing gold from the Laurentic.” Hennesey pulled a piece of note paper out of his pocket and referred to it. “Each bar weighs twenty-seven and a half pounds; that’s four hundred and forty ounces. With today’s rates of one thousand, six hundred and eighty dollars an ounce, if I find only one bar, it’s worth seven hundred and thirty-nine thousand dollars.”

Frank whistled. “And with the way the economy is going, it could be worth a hell of a lot more by the time it’s dredged up. Of course, that’s peanuts compared to what one of those Spanish wrecks could bring in.”

Catherine turned the atlas around and examined the proposed dive site. “I’ve heard the Donegal coastline can be treacherous.”

Daniel said, “When those winds blow, there’s no chance of any vessel going out there and surviving.”

“Jesus Christ!” Hennesey said it so loud that a patron nearby raised her head and scowled. He ignored her but lowered his voice. “You know as well as I do, storm season doesn’t begin until fall. We’ll have plenty of time, even with some bad days thrown in.”

Daniel wasn’t easily convinced. “The way the ocean’s been heaving lately, there are no guarantees.”

“Do you have any fucking idea how long I’ve been doing this? I’m not going to risk all that capital by leaving it too late.”

Frank said, “If the two of you can’t get along in this open space, how the hell are you going to do it on a fifty-foot boat?”

Hennesey narrowed his eyes at Frank. “If I’m leading this hunt, then I’m leading this hunt. I’m not going to do anything stupid, despite what anyone else might think.” He smirked. “And Danny boy, just so you know, I’ve contacted all the authorities and my licenses are all in order.”

Daniel replied with a stony look, “I didn’t expect any less.” Even though Hennesey had asserted his leadership, Daniel had managed to convey he’d be watching to make sure rules were followed.

“If you two have finished sparring,” said Frank, “I want to remind everyone, Hennesey may be directing this salvage, but
National Geographic
has a large financial stake in this.” And then he said to Hennesey, “You weren’t able to finance this expedition until we came along.”

Daniel’s face softened. Whether Hennesey liked it or not, Frank had put the whole hunt in perspective.

Catherine chuckled to herself. Frank might’ve been getting on in years, but he was still a tough bugger. If the money
National Geographic
gave wasn’t used as intended, the money could disappear as quickly as it had come.

Hennesey said, “Do you want me to kiss your feet, Frank?”

Frank guffawed. “No, I want you to take care of our money.”

Hennesey grinned. “I’ll treat it as if it’s my grandmother’s.” He put his elbows on the table and brought his hands together. “I’m set to leave in about a week. I’ve already shipped the
Golden Eye
over. I plan to meet it and dock it in Killybegs about five to six days after that, barring any storms. That’ll give me time to get the boat in shape in case anything needs fixing. I expect you both over there by June the eighth.”

Daniel took out his BlackBerry and checked his schedule. Frank did the same.

Catherine took out a black day journal and opened it. The day was already circled in red. She had unconsciously reached for a red pen when Frank had called with the date. The red now struck her as foreboding.

Hennesey scratched his hairy chest through the opening of his shirt. “So you know, I have a couple of seasoned wreck divers coming along, ones I’ve worked with before. There’ll be checks and balances every step of the way.”

“Glad to hear that.” She said the words, but she knew that when the time came, she wouldn’t leave the checking of the equipment to Hennesey nor his crew. There was always a chance something could get missed. This time, she’d pay more attention.

There was obvious mistrust on all sides, but they all wanted the same thing. They all wanted to be in on the find of the century. And to make that happen, they would all have to get along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ELEVEN

 

A few days later, Daniel took Catherine to Wreck Valley, a more challenging dive site with hundreds of shipwrecks. When he’d made arrangements for a boat operator to take them out for a few hundred dollars and gas, he was surprised that she insisted on paying. She said that he’d been so generous with his time it was the least she could do. In that, she was a refreshing change from the other women he knew. She didn’t take advantage.

He considered this to be Catherine’s final test. Though not as clear as Dutch Springs, Wreck Valley’s visibility was still decent, at least twenty feet, and if they were lucky, up to seventy. Since they’d be diving in the open ocean, the rough seas would approximate the conditions they could expect off the coast of Ireland.

On the three-hour boat ride from Brooklyn to Wreck Valley, the skies were bright and there was no evidence of any weather disturbance that could spoil their trip. He should’ve been at ease, but he was still thinking about the fight he’d had with Sean that morning. She wasn’t happy about his upcoming departure for Ireland, even though he’d given her fair warning of the project. She’d said she couldn’t remember him telling her the date, and even if he had, with her symphony fund-raiser, how could he have expected her to keep track of his schedule?

Either way, he couldn’t understand the fuss. She didn’t need him to pick out the wedding gown or arrange the reception. She’d told him more than once she was perfectly capable of managing all that on her own. As it was, she rarely consulted with him on social matters, so why was she being so miserable?

Trying to put the argument behind him, he gazed at the open sea. They were now halfway to the dive site. With the driver veering directly into the choppy waves, the water splashed up the sides of the boat, making for a bumpy ride.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Catherine said. “Is there something I should be worried about?”

“No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“No problem. Just checking.”

He passed her a bottle of water and took another one for himself. Taking a sip, he watched how the sun played with her auburn hair, depositing specks of gold throughout. She looked otherworldly. He wondered about her ex-husband and what could’ve gone wrong. As far as he could see, she was wonderful company.

“Did I leave part of my breakfast on my face?”

He grinned. “Did you have scrambled eggs?”

Catherine put her hand to her mouth in mock embarrassment. “How did you know?”

He laughed. “Lucky guess. Your face is fine.”
It is more than fine
, he thought. “You must get a lot of second looks on the street.”

She blushed. “I have no idea, but nice of you to say so.” She turned away. Unlike Sean, she didn’t dwell on his compliment.

When the boat slowed down, Daniel saw Catherine’s shoulders tighten as she looked at the navy water. He couldn’t blame her. The area was known for extreme diving.

“I know I should be ready,” she said. “I even went back to Dutch Springs on my own and had a couple of good dives with another instructor there.”

“What?” he asked. “I’m not good enough?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “It’s just me…” Her voice trailed off.

“Being nervous goes with the territory. You know that. It’s part of the rush. Did you pack a diving knife?”

She gave him a look. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to get tangled up in one of the fishing lines.”

“Sorry. I can get over-protective.”

They passed another boat with some divers on board and then came to a stop about two hundred yards past them. By this time, the wind had picked up and the sun had retreated behind a cloud. The boat was rocking a fair amount. After putting her flippers on, Catherine stood and clutched the handrail on the side of the cabin. Her face took on a greenish hue, as if she’d had one too many drinks.

Afraid she was about to lose her balance, Daniel reached out to steady her. It was then that she fainted and fell into his arms.

 

~~~

 

She was spinning, faster and faster on a merry-go-round. There were dolphins and whales and a swordfish to sit on. She had on a white dress, and the young man she was trying to catch—as he wove his way through the merry-go-round’s sea creatures—wore an old-fashioned sailor suit. Then, an avalanche of water drenched them. Someone was taking their picture. An old, bearded guy came out of nowhere, but he couldn’t stand still long enough to get what he wanted. Next thing she knew she was tumbling in the air, over and over. She couldn’t find anywhere to land. There was only water. But then the young man appeared again. He was over an arm’s length away, and she tried to grab his hand, but the waves kept pushing them apart. He drifted farther and farther away. She tried to shout to the albatross flying overhead to get help, but she couldn’t get the words out. The bird ignored her, and his large wings got smaller and smaller as he flew into the distance. All that was left was a feather lying on the surface. She was about to go under the water, when a man’s voice cut through the air.

“I think she got spooked.”

She could feel a cold wet cloth on her face. She opened her eyes to see someone staring at her. For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. The eyes looked like those belonging to the young man in her dream, the one standing just out of reach.

“Catherine, are you okay?”

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