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“Yes, along with other documents regarding the proceedings. My father thought it quite interesting.” Norah paused while he reviewed the booklet before she continued. “Kidd eventually revealed the location of the treasure, hoping it would help his case. Instead, it was used as evidence against him at his trial. Although Kidd insisted on his innocence and that he was merely acting on his duties as a privateer, he was found guilty and hanged in 1701.”
“I have the feeling the tale doesn’t end there.” Vanbridge’s gaze held on her as if she were his latest find, and he was eager to find out more.
Her mouth went dry, and her entire body tingled at the sensation. It didn’t help to remind herself that it was her story he was interested in rather than her.
“You’re correct. Before he died, Kidd insisted there was yet another treasure. A much larger one that he’d buried.”
“That’s the one people are still looking for today.”
“Yes. However, he took the secret with him to his grave. But clues still surfaced.” She withdrew a newspaper clipping to hand to him. “An elderly man who lived in New England and was considered a recluse and mute surprised his neighbors on his deathbed by not only speaking but sharing his life as a sailor aboard Captain Kidd’s ship. He alleged to have helped Kidd bury four million dollars in gold on a secluded island east of Boston.”
Vanbridge’s expression turned doubtful. “If that were true, wouldn’t the sailor have claimed it for his own?”
“He said he never dared to speak of it or take it for fear of enduring the same fate as his captain.”
“I suppose it would be difficult to insist on one’s innocence and yet be found with plunder.”
“In 1795, three young men started searching on Oak Island for treasure. Since then, many, including my father, have also searched.” Norah withdrew the copper coin and handed it to him. “My father found this in a shaft he dug that he believed led to the Money Pit, where the treasure supposedly is.”
Those long fingers were nearly graceful in their movements as he turned it over to examine both sides. “Finding this might convince me to continue looking as well.”
“He also found a significant amount of coconut fiber on the island.”
“There could be multiple uses for it,” he said, his tone skeptical. “Possibly as dunnage for ship’s cargo. Or even making rope.”
“Or perhaps caulking a ship’s hull.” She paused with a smile. “What’s interesting is that Father found it deep underground in the shaft he believed led to the Money Pit.”
Vanbridge’s brows raised as he processed the idea. “Thatisinteresting.”
Norah pulled out another carefully wrapped item and laid it on the desk. “These gold links were found at a depth of ninety-eight feet in that same shaft.”
“From a watch chain, most likely.” Again, those long fingers of his manipulated the item to examine it. “Strange that it was found so far underground.”
“Indeed. You can see why my father was convinced something significant happened on the island.” She retrieved a large piece of folded paper and carefully opened it. “This is the most intriguing find. It’s a copy of the markings on a stone found in 1803 by another searcher approximately eighty feet down in a shaft that later collapsed. The stone is just over two feet long and about a foot wide.”
“Odd markings,” the marquess said as he studied the triangular shapes, dots, squares, and circles. “Have they been interpreted?”
“Not as of yet. Some think it a cipher of sorts.”
Vanbridge sat back in his chair and studied the items on his desk for a minute before looking at Norah. “What is it you hope to accomplish with an exhibit?”
Norah shifted to the edge of her seat, hoping she could convince him. “To help people understand why my father searched all those years. To show them he had reason to and might’ve been successful if the shaft hadn’t collapsed on him.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat as grief threatened to take hold. Now wasn’t the time for tears.
“And perhaps to allow them the thrill of discovery,” she continued, “even if it is from the safety of a museum rather than on a remote island in Nova Scotia.”
Vanbridge folded his arms over his chest as he stared at the items again. “There isn’t much to show.”
“I realize it will be a challenge. But it’s the story behind these artifacts that needs to be shared. You’re the perfect person to create such an exhibit.”
“I would have to do some more research, but I admit to having a few ideas. Nevertheless, I can’t promise many people will venture here to see it.” His brow puckered. “Unfortunately, attendance has been steadily declining.”
“A new exhibit might change that.” She fisted her hand on her lap, hoping he would agree.
“Hmm.”
“I would be pleased to help promote it. In fact, I would like to suggest we host a party for the unveiling. A fundraiser for charity.”
Vanbridge immediately shook his head. “I don’t do parties.” He said the word as if it were foreign on his tongue. “Nor do we have the staff for such an event.”
