Rock dug his bare feet into the cool sand and looked out over Smith’s cove on the Southeastern tip of Oak Island. The morning sun rose before him, hanging in the distance. It’s diffused light, soft and gentle, fought steadily against a blanket of fog. It would win eventually, but not without stiff resistance. He strolled around the shoreline, looking closely at the so-called artificial terrain. Anna’s analysis pointed to the absence of flood tunnels, but the history of the site and the other digs previous to her own told of the creation of artificial beaches and the presence of the so-called tunnels. There wasn’t much left of the original material and Rock could only rely upon what the evidence said now versus the accounts of the people who arrived here first. If it was a falsity, then it was a creative lie, or just a misinterpretation of natural occurrences. But even though he couldn’t find anything to substantiate the claim, he couldn’t discount the testimony due to the immense amount of activity over the history of the area.
The beach was claimed to have five separate drainage systems, described as fingers. These were lined with rocks and made channels that converged to one main tunnel that eventually hit the money pit 500 feet away at the depth of around 100 feet. Their purpose was to fill the pit with water whenever that depth was reached and stymie any effort to dig further into the ground. If they existed, then they worked to perfection.
The channels were covered with material, including eelgrass and coconut fibers that would filter out anything but water. In this way, sediment wouldn’t find its way into the tunnels to build and block the free flow of the water. In one of the past attempts in the mid 1800’s by the Truro Company, a dam was built around the beach to try and stop the water. There is a claim to have uncovered the remains of an older dam at the same time. But nothing is certain, he knew, and it could just be these facts were added to the story to make it more plausible or more fantastical, like a glorified game of telephone. The facts of today didn’t support it, but he also knew that most historical testimony was grounded in some form of truth.
When Rock emerged from his thoughts, he noticed numerous construction crews starting to show up for the day and the heavy machine begin its grind. The dam at Smith’s cove was already underway and Anna planned to have it done within only a single month. It hadn’t extended into the water yet, but he could see the materials for the foundation laid out along the shore.
They were ruining this beautiful piece of land. He shook his head in disgust, slipped his sandals back on and left the cove behind.
Rock arrived back at the hotel and started packing, doing his best to purge Oak Island from his mind. Then a strong knock sounded at his door. He opened it to find a dark haired man staring back at him. He wore a black suit and waited patiently. His eyes were alert and Rock could tell this was a man in a position of power.
“Can I help you?”
“I think we need to talk, Mr. Tilton.”
“About what exactly, Delega, I assume.” Rock knew this was the man Anna worked for. It was her exact description of the stiff executive.
He kept his features even and unaffected. “May I come in?” Rock moved out of the way and let him enter the room. “Rock. May I call you by your first name?”
“Sure.”
“First off, I would like to ask you to stop spreading rumors about myself and my associates, whom you have no basis for even pretending to know. Especially to our temporary employee Anna Riley.”
“By rumors you mean the assumption that you are violent and will dispose of her at the end of this.”
“Yes.”
“I guess we should choose a different venue when we’re having our discussions. A house you own might not be the most private of places.”
“I don’t mean to pry, I just need to know what’s going on at all times. This Michael Cooper and Malcolm Cooper, I will need to know where to find them.”
“Why?”
“So I can see why they are developing such ideas about us.”
“I don’t know either of them and cannot help you there. And truthfully, I see you as being dressed in the same colors as they are. No different until I’m proven otherwise. But you no longer have to worry about me, I’m leaving today, I won’t bother your employee any longer.”
“Very well.”
“I’m surprised you cannot find the Cooper’s on your own, you seem to have impressive resources.”
“We’re not the only ones with such abilities, I’m afraid.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“I cannot promise I will be able to answer, but you may ask.”
“What do you think you are searching for?”
Seth seemed to mull over what he wanted to say but Rock wasn’t expecting an answer. “I won’t say. Yet.” Rock thought about the last word as the man continued. “I have an offer for you?”
“I want nothing to do with your company.”
“I’d like you to work on another project of mine.”
“Forget it. I don’t want your money.”
“You do not even want to hear me out? What can it hurt?”
Rock checked his watch, three more hours before they had to be at the airport. It wouldn’t hurt to listen. “Ok, shoot.”
“We have a map, actually two that we have recently purchased at a very high price point. One marks Oak Island, I believe you have seen a copy in the conference room.” Rock nodded. “The other marks a spot that we have been unable to make any progress on. I would like to make you the head of this second project.”
“Do you have this piece of history with you?”
“Yes, I have the original,” he said taking out a rolled parchment and opening it. Rock leaned in. The map looked authentic, with an indiscriminate mass of land, strange symbols and a small ‘x’ near the southern shore. That wasn’t going to tell him anything, he knew. There was a date and signature in the lower right corner. He picked up the map and held it up to the light.
“Who signed it,” he asked unable to clearly read the signature.
“A Captain Robert Ryder, the same signature as the one on the Oak Island map, and these are similar symbols to the other map as well.”
“Know anything about him?”
“A little.”
“Have you broken the code?”
“We cannot.”
“I don’t know what you hope I can do with this. I have a hundred maps with this amount of information on them. It’s a dead end. Unless you have more about this Robert Ryder, there’s no place to start.”
“We know some. For one thing, we know he sailed with Captain Kidd.” That statement caught Rock’s interest though he tried not to show it.
“You think this map leads to his lost treasure.”
“We don’t know enough to say.”
Rock found himself interested, but not in the map. He was more concerned with the history of Robert Ryder. Suddenly he realized how Anna had dug in as deep as she had. “Is that all?”
Seth took a deep breath. “There’s one more thing. The map that clearly marks Oak Island also came with a journal. The author was one of the crewmen who helped construct the original pit. He didn’t know what was being hidden but his notes did say it was being paid for and organized by Captain Robert Ryder.”
“How authentic is this journal?”
“It’s dated to the right time, its entries are consistent with the spoken words of the day and the man can be traced back through family generations. Coincidentally he became wealthy not long after the entries regarding this island.”
Rock started putting it all together. “You don’t think there’s much buried here either do you Delega. You think all that is coming from this dig at Oak Island is a small cipher for this map here.” He pointed to the map on his table. “Once that code is broken, you’ll be able to find where that land mass is and you’ll have Captain Kidd’s famed treasure.”
Seth started clapping his han
ds. “You are impressive Mr. Tilton.”
“And you’re full of shit,” Rock snapped back. He grabbed the map and crumpled it up. He aimed for the wastebasket and shot the wad to land inside. “He shoots, he scores!” Rock started dancing around the room with his hands in the air.
“What are you doing!”
Rock ignored the outburst. “If that’s all this is, you wouldn’t have so much security. You wouldn’t be on such a fast timetable. You wouldn’t have enemies waving guns at me, a person who has nothing to do with this other than a connection to Anna. And you wouldn’t be here now. There’s something else you think is here on Oak Island, and I’m betting its some form of knowledge. That is truly the only thing worth protecting as much as everyone is protecting this.” When Rock finished, Seth Delega stood in silence though his mouth was slightly parted. “Oh and when you try to fake a map, bring a copy instead and tell me the original is too fragile. But if you must know, your first mistake was you dated it, which is a dead give away as most important maps from that time don’t contain dates. Secondly the paper you used to pass off as original is much too even, there aren’t even reproduced chain lines. Paper prior to 1800 is all hand woven and what’s in the garbage is clearly machine made. The paper is also much lighter than paper back in the day. Prove me wrong and take it out of the garbage.” He stared at Seth Delega knowing the only reason for this visit was to find a way to get Rock to stay and help Anna out.
“I must say Mr. Tilton, you have some fanciful ideas but good perceptions.”
“I know.”
“Well, I guess that ends our time here, I must be going. Please feel free to stay as long as you wish. If you change your mind, please contact me. If you need a place to stay, that can be arranged through Anna. I do hope you understand I am no threat to anybody and I protect my employees in an appropriate manner. I do want to acquire your services despite what you may think about us. Good day Mr. Tilton.”
“Good day,” Rock said as the man exited.
He put it together quickly. All the man wanted from Rock was help, right here at Oak Island. He saw past the cool demeanor to the nervous little man beneath, and being nervous, in his position in life, came from one thing. He was behind schedule. Any help he could muster at this point, he’d take.
One thing Rock did want to do was study the other map in more detail. It hung in a glass case in the conference room. It marked Oak Island clearly, and it was the only real thing that lent the treasure any sort of credibility.
Once again, a knock sounded at his door, this one softer. Rock opened it up half expecting to see Delega waiting with another piece of information but Sayla stood in the dim hallway rubbing her eyes. “I thought I heard you talking,” she said.
“I was.”
“You need to stop that, people are going to start thinking you’re psycho.”
“I wasn’t talking to myself. Mr. Delega stopped by to have a chat.”
It didn’t look like the information sank in. Sayla responded with a simple nod. “Ok, well we better get moving, wanna grab a bite before we get to the airport?”
“Not yet, I’ve decided we’re going to stay a bit longer.”
Sayla’s eyes opened wide and a big smile spread across her face. She shot forward and hugged him, “I knew it,” she said. “That’s awesome, I knew you wouldn’t leave Anna, you still want her.” She backed off timidly as Rock rolled his eyes to the comment. Sayla leaned to the side and called into her room, “did you hear that, we’re staying.”
Rock pushed her away, “that better not be,” he walked by her and looked in. Nate sat on the edge of her bed wrapped in a sheet.
The boy waved. “Hey Rock, that’s awesome,” he said displaying a thumbs up.
Rock turned around shaking his head. He made his way past Sayla and into his room. He shut the door on her and leaned against the wall, “Anna’s going to kill me,” he said to himself. “Nate’s not going to be worth shit now.”
Chapter 8
Nova Scotia, May 2012