“Impossible,” Nick had scoffed when Carol had initially suggested that the whale might have deliberately hit him because he was heading for the fissure in the reef. “Whoever heard of whales guarding a spot in the ocean. Besides, if your theory’s right, then why didn’t the whale really smack me, and finish me off? You’re asking me to accept that the whales were protecting an underground cave? And then that they were warning me to stay away with that gentle push?” He laughed good-naturedly. “Let me ask you something, Miss Dawson,” he said, “do you believe in elves and fairies?”
“From where I was watching,” Carol replied, “it sure looked as if the whole thing was planned. “She did not pursue the subject further. In fact, after her initial outbursts, Carol did not talk very much about anything on the trip back to Key West. She too was excited and she was worried that if she talked too much she might inadvertently give away her thoughts about the possible connection between what they had seen and the lost Navy missile. So she didn’t mention either her eerie fear just before the whale hit Nick or the network of tracks she thought she saw converging just under the base of the fissure.
As far as Nick was concerned, the object they had retrieved was definitely part of a treasure. It didn’t bother him that it was hidden under an overhang at the end of some strange tracks. He shrugged it off by suggesting that maybe somebody had found the sunken treasure several years earlier and then tried to hide a few of the better pieces. (But why were the tracks fresh? And what had made them? Carol wanted to ask these questions but realized it was in her best interest for Nick to remain convinced that he had found treasure.) Nick was blind to all arguments and even facts that didn’t support his treasure theory. It was emotionally vital to Nick for the gold fork thing to be the first piece of a great discovery. And like many people, Nick was capable of suspending his normally sharp critical faculties when he had a vested emotional involvement in an issue.
When Nick and Carol finally quieted down enough to listen, Troy had a chance to tell his own story. “After you guys left the area underneath the boat, I guess to follow your trench, I became worried about you and started watching the screen more often. Now, angel, by this time those three whales had been swimming about in that same dumb pattern for over an hour. So I wasn’t checking them real close.”
Troy was up out of his deck chair, walking back and forth in front of Carol and Nick. It was a dark night; low clouds had rolled in from the north to block the moon and obscure most of the stars. The spotlight from the top of the canopy occasionally caught Troy’s chiseled features as he moved in and out of the shadows. “Because I wanted to find you guys, I lifted the alarm suppression the way you showed me and was regularly serenaded by the ding-dong-ding from the three whales. Now listen to this. After a couple of minutes, I heard a fourth alarm. I looked down at the monitor, expecting to see one of you, and I saw another whale, same species, swimming underneath the other three and in the opposite direction. Within ten seconds the original whales turned, breaking their long pattern, and followed the new whale off the monitor to the left. They never returned.”
Troy wound up the story with a dramatic inflection and Nick laughed out loud, “Jesus, Jefferson, you do have a way of telling a story. I suppose you’re going to tell me now that these whales were stationed there and the new guy came along with different orders. Or something like that. Christ, between you and Carol, you’ll have me believe that the whales are organized into covens of whatever.” Nick stopped for a moment. Troy was disappointed that Carol didn’t say anything.
“Now,” Nick continued, dismissing Troy’s story and getting to the subject he had been thinking about for almost an hour, “we have an important issue to discuss. We have brought back something from the ocean that could conceivably be worth a lot of money. If nobody else can prove conclusively that it is theirs, then it will belong to the finders.” Nick looked first at Carol and then at Troy. “Even though I’m captain and owner of this boat and I carried the thing up from the ocean floor, I’m prepared to offer that we split the proceeds in thirds. Does that sound fair enough to the two of you?”
There was a moderately long silence before Troy answered. “Sure, Nick, that sounds fine to me.” Nick smiled and reached across to shake Troy’s hand. He then extended his hand to Carol.
“Just a minute,” she said quietly, looking directly at Nick and not taking his hand. “Since you’ve decided to start this conversation, there are several more items that must be discussed. It’s not simply a question of money for this object. There’s also the issue of possession. Who keeps the golden trident? Who determines when we’ve been offered a fair price? What do we agree to say, or not to say, to others? And what if other objects are found down there by one or more of us? Do we all share? There’s an entire agreement that must be worked out before we dock.”
Nick frowned. “Now I understand why you’ve been so quiet these last few minutes. You’ve been thinking about your share. I misjudged you. I thought you might decide not to create any more trouble — ”
“Who said anything about trouble?” Carol interrupted him abruptly, her voice rising slightly. “If you must know, I’m not that interested in the damn money. I will gladly take my one-third if any dollars are forthcoming from the trident there, for I certainly deserve it. But if any more such treasures are down there and you and Troy can find them without me, then be my guest. I want something else.”
Both men were now listening intently. “First and foremost, I want exclusive rights to this story, and that means absolute secrecy about what we have found, when and where we found it, and anything else associated with it — at least until we’re certain there’s nothing more to learn. Second, I want immediate possession of the object for forty-eight hours, before anyone else knows that it exists. After that you can have it to take to the authorities for evaluation.”
Uh oh, Carol thought to herself as she saw the searching looks she had elicited from Nick and Troy. I overdid it. They suspect something. Better back off just a bit. “Of course,” she smiled disarmingly, “I’ve just given my initial position. I expect that some negotiations may be necessary.”
“Wow, angel,” Troy said with a laugh, “that was some speech. For just a minute there, I thought that maybe there was a whole other game going on here and you were the only one playing. Of course the professor and I will be delighted to discuss an agreement with you, won’t we, Nick?”
Nick nodded. But he had also been alerted by the careful organization and unmistakable intensity of Carol’s response. It seemed out of proportion to the journalistic value of their find. Is she trying to make this some kind of a contest between us? he thought to himself. Or am I missing something altogether?
They had worked out a compromise agreement by the time the Florida Queen reached the dock in Key West. Nick would take the golden trident (both of the men liked Carol’s name for the object) with him on Friday morning. There was an elderly woman in Key West who was a compendium of treasure knowledge and she would be able to assess its value and to give its probable place and date of origin. The woman would also be a witness to their find in case the trident were ever misplaced. On Friday afternoon, the three of them would meet on the boat or in the marina parking lot at four o’clock. Nick would give the object to Carol and she would keep it over the weekend. After she returned it to Nick on Monday morning, he would be responsible for its care and eventual sale. The three of them had joint ownership of the trident, but Carol waived any interest in future discoveries. Carol wrote the terms of the simple agreement on the back of a restaurant menu from her purse, they all signed it, and she promised to bring copies back the next day.
Troy was quiet and subdued while he was loading all Carol’s equipment back into the footlocker. He lifted the locker onto the cart and then pulled the cart along the jetty. Carol walked beside him. It was about nine o’clock and very quiet at the marina. The tall fluorescent lights created a strange reflection on the wooden jetties. “Well, angel,” Troy said as Carol and he approached the marina headquarters, “it’s been quite a day. I’ve really enjoyed your company.” He stopped and turned to look at her. Her black hair had dried unevenly and looked a bit disheveled, but her face was beautiful in the reflected light.