Catherine's Cross (39 page)
“Please hire an attorney who specializes in international law and let your legal counsel handle this.”
“I'm going to hire an attorney.”
Seth stared at her before saying, “Uh-oh, I see that gleam in your eyesâ your eyes are turning green, Miss Ellington.”
“I've made my decision, and I'm going to St. Thomas.”
“Not without me, you're not,” Seth declared.
T
he Boeing 757 touched down at Cyril E. King Airport near Charlotte Amalie, US Virgin Islands. As Jenks and Seth descended the passenger stairs, they heard the sounds of a calypso band in the terminal, welcoming the passengers to St. Thomas; the steel drums reverberated louder than the other instruments. Both Jenks and Seth had carried on backpacks so there was no delay in exiting the terminal. As they left the building, a sultry breeze caught Jenks's hair and blew her tresses around her face. Taking a tie from her handbag, she put her hair in a ponytail.
“This will get my hair off my neck. Whew, it's hot here . . . feels like Beaufort in the summer.”
Seth was leaning on his walking cane for support, and Jenks noticed he frowned as he shifted his weight to his healthy leg.
“You should have let me do this alone. You're in pain.”
“There's not a chance I would have let you come down here alone. I think the pain is just from stiffness from being on the airliner. I took some Advil in the terminal, so hopefully the pain will diminish.”
She stroked his cheek and said, “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
When their turn for a taxi came, Jenks handed the address for Frederick Augustin's business on Dronningen's Gade to the driver.
He looked at the address and said, “Yes, I'll have you there in a few minutes. Please have a seat.”
They climbed inside the open-air taxi and Seth winced as he sat down in the seat. “Dronningen's Gade. What does that mean?”
“Queen Street in Danish. I looked it up. The Danes controlled these islands for many years until the United States purchased them in 1917.”
“You are quite the researcher.”
The taxi driver entered the conversation. “Where are you folks from?” he said with an island brogue.
“We're from Beaufort, South Carolina.”
“Ah yes, I have been to Charleston. I have a cousin who lives near there. Beautiful place.”
“Are you down here on your honeymoon?”
Jenks felt herself blush. She gazed at Seth and responded, “No, we're here to see Mr. Augustin, a dealer in rare antiquities.”
“Yes, I recognized his addressâI know his family.”
“You do?”
“Oh yes, ma'am. They are fine folks.”
A cold chill ran up Jenks's spine. “Soâhe's been in business for many years?”
“Yes, ma'am, and his father before him.”
The ride was brief, and they reached the business district of Charlotte Amalie within several minutes. As they got out of the taxi, Jenks paid the driver, and he gave her his card. “If I can take you anywhere else on the island, please call me on my cell phone.” He pointed to a phone number and then waved good-bye. “Thank you, Miss.”
There were a number of exclusive jewelry shops on Dronningen's Gade, and Jenks and Seth slowly made their way to Augustin's Rare Antiquities. When they reached his shop, there was a Closed sign in the window. There were display cases in the front window of the business, but they were all empty of merchandise.
“Let's look around for a little while and then come back.”
“Forgive me, baby, but I'm going to sit on this bench in the shade while you look around. I'll call you on your cell phone if Mr. Augustin shows up.”
“You're sure you don't mind?”
He shook his head. “I'll just people watch until you return.”
She gave him a squeeze on the hand and went to explore some of the shops. There was undoubtedly some of the finest jewelry she had ever seen in these stores, and she found herself entranced by some of the exquisite diamonds. Gazing into the display cases, she said quietly, “I'd settle for a half-carat.”
When she returned to Seth, he was quietly observing passersby and she sat down on the bench beside him.
“See anything pretty?”
“I don't think I saw anything that wasn't pretty.”
He raised his chin up and looked at her. “I think you're pretty.”
Their eyes locked and Jenks could feel the heat of the energy that existed between the two of them. “Thank you.”
She continued to gaze into his eyes. “I'm going to go into the jewelry store beside Augustin's and see if they know anything about why his store is closed.”
She rose from her seat and entered the glass doors of Francesca's. A cool rush of air-conditioned air soothed her as she entered the store. An attractive older woman with blonde hair piled on her head and stunning blue eyes approached her. “Is there anything I can show you in the store?”
Jenks knew she couldn't afford anything in the store, so she went straight to the point. “Thank you for your offer to help, but I have some business with Mr. Augustin who runs the store next to yours.”
“Was he expecting you?”
“I don't have an appointment for today, but I think he'll be interested in speaking with me.” She blushed as she lied.
“He's been ill, and I think he is resting at home,” she volunteered. “Miss?”
“My name is Jenks Ellington. Thank you for your time.”
Before the woman could ask any more questions, Jenks said good-bye and departed the store. She returned to her place on the bench beside Seth. “The lady in the store says that Mr. Augustin has been ill and is recuperating at home.”
“Why don't we pay him a visit? Our taxi driver seemed to know him personally. I bet he knows his address,” Seth said.
“Good idea.”
Jenks phoned the driver, Charles Sermet, and he responded that he was on a fare but would be able to pick them up within twenty minutes.
When Charles arrived, Jenks engaged him in conversation. “I understand that Mr. Augustin is not well. I have urgent business to discuss with him. Could you please take me to his residence?”
“I seeâyou have business with him then?”
“Yes, he'll be very disappointed should he miss me.” She bit her bottom lip as she told another lie.
“Please come.” He got out of the taxi and opened the door for Jenks and Seth.
“What did you do to your leg, young man?”
“It happened on the job.”
“You must have dangerous work.”
“Occasionally,” Seth replied.
Charles took a road into the hills of the island. As they gained elevation, Jenks marveled at the magnificent blue-green color of the ocean. They reached an area of exclusive homes and Charles pulled into the driveway of a stunning white villa that looked over the Caribbean Sea.
“This is Mr. Augustin's residence.”
“Thank you for bringing us here. I will be in need of your services again.”
“You have my number.”
Jenks paid the fare and then turned to Seth. Together they walked to a columned entranceway with French double doors. The interior of the home was completely open, permitting a view to the ocean. Jenks rang the doorbell.
Within a few moments, a young, dark-haired woman in a maid's uniform came to the door. “Miss Ellington?” she inquired.
Jenks looked inquisitively at Seth. “Yes, I'm Jenks Ellington.”
How did she know my name?
“Come in. Mr. Augustin is expecting you. And you too, sir,” she said as she looked admiringly at Seth.
Jenks noticed the woman's appreciation of Seth. They followed her through the house, which was richly decorated with Oriental rugs and handsome antiques. Sitting at a desk in a study that opened to a balcony was a gray-haired man wearing a deep-purple housecoat. He stood from his chair, and Jenks noticed that his face was pale.
He did not smile, but extended his hand out to Jenks and then to Seth. “I'm Frederick Augustin, and unfortunately, I know why you're here.”
“How did you know we were coming?”
“Francesca, who owns the jewelry store next to mine, phoned me.”
Jenks got straight to the point. “I'm Jenks Ellington, and this is my friend, Seth Mason.”
“Yes, I know who both of you are. Mr. Mason, I'm dreadfully sorry about the leg and your head. I hope you're feeling some better.”
“Yes, sir. I'm taking one day at a time.”
Jenks looked at her clasped hands before continuing, “I'm trying to locate Frank Hiller. My sister found the Petersburg Cross along with other artifacts off the South Carolina coast while diving last spring. Frank Hiller murdered her and stole her discoveries. He sold the cross to you.”
Augustin rubbed his temples and then a frown creased his brow. “I have heard about this from the St. Thomas police as well as from the irate Countess Gavriella.” He sighed and pointed to two chairs in front of his desk. “Please, both of you have a seat.”
As Seth sat down he winced with pain, and Mr. Augustin inquired, “Can we get you something for the leg?”
“Thank you. I took Advil a couple of hours ago.”
Augustin turned back to Jenks. “I'm afraid that I don't know where he was going after he left me. I paid him a handsome price for the Petersburg Cross. I think I was just so shocked to see one of Kartashkin's creations that I jumped at the opportunity to acquire the piece without asking enough questions.” He stopped speaking for a moment and rubbed his temples again.
“I want you to understand that I am guilty of being an overzealous fool, but a charlatan I am not. I'm dreadfully sorry about your sister and what happened to you two when you were assaulted by Mr. Hiller.”
He pulled a document out of his desk. Jenks gasped. The sheet of paper he removed from the drawer was the declaration that Gigi had intended to turn in to the South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology.
“This document explained how he came to have it in his possession, and I knew immediately that the cross was authentic by Kartashkin's initials on the back of the piece.” His face darkened. “I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
A cooling breeze blew in from the open patio, billowing white silky drapes that rustled in the wind. He handed the list to Jenks and said, “The police might not appreciate this, but I was saving the document for you. I knew you would come.”
Jenks took the document from him and studied it before asking, “Did you acquire artifacts other than the cross from Frank Hiller?”
“No, Miss EllingtonâI did not.”
“And you don't know where Frank Hiller went?” Jenks knew this was the second time she had asked that question.
“I'm afraid not.” Taking a deep breath he continued, “I really didn't care where he was going. I was caught up in my own exuberance.” He sighed again. “I'm afraid the countess would slay me if she could. The money that she paid me for the cross was quickly invested into a prime piece of real estate I'd been watching for some time. This is a horrible situation, and I'm afraid it's taken a toll on my health.”
He slowly stood up from his desk and said, “I know the police have been checking with yachting services, the airlines, and private airplane charter service for clues. You might want to try speaking with some of the operators yourself.”
“Thank you for seeing us.”
“Yes, I apologize, but I need to lie down. I hope we can all work toward a settlement over this matter; if we don't it may be the death of me.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, Jenks hired Charles Sermet to take them to nautical and aviation services that could have provided the means for Frank Hiller to depart the island. Seth stayed in the taxi and stretched his leg out across a bench seat. He had not complained about pain, but Jenks could tell he was uncomfortable by the look in his eyes.