Confederate Gold and Silver (52 page)

As they made their way along the wooden walkway, Paul stopped their walk on a couple of occasions to make it look like they were admiring the boats that were present. He intentionally did so as he wanted the others to see where the cemetery was located off to the right of the marina’s property. He wanted them to put the cemetery in perspective from a distance, along with the rest of the marina’s property, for their visit back there later that night. It was going to be almost pitch-dark when they came back.

“Paul, you were right, this is a beautiful setting. I can only hope I am so lucky to have such a beautiful resting place when it’s my time.”

“You are very weird sometimes! Even a goofball on occasion, do you know that? We are here to scope out a spot where the gold and silver is likely buried and you are thinking about planning your own funeral!” Besides the barb he directed at her, Chick also shot Jayne a puzzled look after her comment about her final resting place. Now he just shrugged his shoulders at Paul. Chick never saw the expression she gave him behind his back after he had snapped at her, but it was one which made Pete laugh.

As they got closer to the black wrought iron gates which had been chained shut on his first visit to the cemetery, Paul now noticed they were swung wide open. Inside they observed an elderly male caretaker raking the accumulated pine cones and pine needles which partially blanketed some of the graves. A small push mower waiting to be used sat off to the right of the gates.

“Excuse me, sir!” It took Paul three attempts to get the caretaker’s attention, but he finally got it.

“This is private property. You folks cannot come in here, sorry.”

“Sir, could we just talk to you for one minute?”

As the elderly caretaker walked towards them, Chick had an idea. “Paul, let me do the talking.”

Chick warmly shook hands with the caretaker while introducing himself to him. He quickly learned the caretaker’s name was Woody. “My given name is Woodrow, but most folks call me Woody. I guess Woodrow is too formal for most folks.”

“Woodrow it is then! Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. I am a history professor at the University of South Carolina and these are some of my graduate students. They are helping me with some research for a book I am writing regarding prominent South Carolina folks. One of those folks we are going to be including in the book is Governor Allston; he was quite a prominent person in his day. I would be grateful if you could allow us to have ten minutes or so to look at the Allston graves that are here. I promise you we will be very respectful of those who are buried here. It would be a big help to the research we are doing if you could assist us.”

“You folks know the governor ain’t buried here, just his kin is. He’s down in Georgetown.”

“Yes, we know. But his family history is also going to have a role in my book. That’s why we are here today.”

“Well, I ain’t suppose to let no folks in here, but seeing you are writing a book, can’t see no harm in letting you look around for a few minutes. Just mind where the graves are!”

“We will, thanks Woodrow!”

Jayne was quickly snapping away on both her Nikon digital camera and on an older model Canon 35mm camera she occasionally still used. She took photos of every gravestone and of each burial site within the small cemetery. Once finished taking those pictures, she took interior and exterior real estate type photos showing the layout of the cemetery. She even took a picture of Woody standing next to the sign posted outside of the cemetery. Knowing the importance of the small gravestones, she took her time taking the photos of the Allston children’s weather-beaten gravestones. They were ones time and weather had impacted harshly. As Paul had noticed the day before, Jayne also saw some of the names and dates were now hard to read.

As she took the photos, Paul walked from gravestone to gravestone with her, carefully looking to see which one bore the initials NW. Softly he whispered into Jayne’s ear so Woody, who was standing nearby, did not hear him talk to her as she finished taking the last few photos of the children’s graves. “I didn’t see the initials NW on any of them, did you?”

Jayne just shook her head to let Paul know she had not seen them either.

“It’s not here!” Paul now questioned whether he had misinterpreted what he read the previous day from the sign hanging outside the cemetery. As they stood near the small gravestones, Chick joined them. Retrieving a copy of the Francis letter from his pocket, Paul showed them the letter for the first time. “Here, I made a copy of the letter Captain Francis wrote to President Davis. I was going to show it to you later today. Part of the letter describes the children’s graves.”

Chick read the letter which Paul had blown up in size when he had it copied at Office Depot. “I don’t see what’s missing. What are you not seeing here?”

“Look at the end of this one line. See how Francis made a reference to the letters
(NW)
there. Do you see a gravestone with a name that has the letters NW included on it? I don’t. That’s what is missing!”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The three of them stood in silence for a couple of minutes as they each tried to solve the mystery now confronting them. Frustrated at first, Paul suddenly broke their silence. “The letters NW, you know maybe I have a case of had tunnel vision thinking they were associated with a gravestone when really they were not someone’s initials after all. Maybe what he is trying to tell us with this clue is that he buried the gold and silver in the northwest corner of the cemetery. Get it?
Northwest
has the two letters in it that we are looking for.”

“Sounds logical to me. Inside or out?”

“I’m thinking inside, Chick. He likely would have used the brick walls to hide behind so no one could see him when he buried the money.”

By now Pete had returned to the cemetery with his video camera. As Chick and Jayne kept Woody occupied for a few extra minutes, Paul had Pete film the entire interior of the cemetery. “Make sure you get some video of the exterior also, especially around the northwest corner, just in case we are wrong about where we think he buried it.”

Pete had only been filming the interior for a few minutes when Bobby Ray, who had called Paul on his cell phone just after they had arrived at the cemetery, came strolling through the opened gates with a stern look on his face.

Flashing his badge as he walked towards Woody, Bobby Ray asked a question somewhat loudly. “OK, people, who’s in charge here?”

Softly, Woody answered the question. “I guess I am, sir.”

Despite being dressed in civilian clothes, Bobby Ray was very official looking as he had his Motorola portable radio and gun displayed on his belt. Wearing dark aviator sunglasses, he walked up to a now very nervous Woody. “Did you let these people in here? This is private property you know!” Not getting a reply to his comments, Bobby Ray sensed the elderly caretaker had not yet caught on that he was just having fun at his expense. He quickly let Woody in on the joke he was playing on him.

“Gees, I thought someone had complained. I was worried that I had just lost my job.”

“No, sir, that ain’t never happening. These folks here are my friends. Thanks for helping them out. They are all good people, just like you.”

“You bet! You folks need a little more time? As long as the cops are here I guess no one is gonna bother us now. Take all the time y’all need.”

“Woody, we need about another fifteen more minutes and then we will be done. Is that OK?”

“That’s fine, just fine. I’ll keep talking to this here pretty young girl while you fellas finish up whatever it is you are doing. Fellas my age don’t get to talk to pretty girls too often.” From the smile she was wearing, Chick could tell Jayne appreciated Woody’s compliment about her.

Bobby Ray then walked over to where Paul and Chick were standing near the northwest corner of the cemetery. “You guys in time out or what? Standing here alone in the corner like y’all are.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Paul laughed at the funny comment Bobby Ray had made about them standing in the corner of the cemetery, but then questioned him about the joke he had played on the elderly caretaker. “Why did you have to do that for? You nearly scared the old man half to death with that act of yours!”

“He’s fine, forget about it. So, what’s the deal with this place?”

“Bobby Ray, I need you to help Chick draw a map of the cemetery. We don’t want to attract too much attention, but can you help him get this done so we can get out of this place before someone starts asking questions. When we get back to the parking lot I will clue you in with the rest of the details. Basically we think we have found the second of the three locations where the gold and silver has been buried. But for now get moving, please!”

Bobby Ray was somewhat stunned by the little bit of information he had been given. “Are you kidding me? Paul, my house is maybe two miles from here as the dang crow flies. You’re telling me that I’ve lived here for over twenty years near a damn fortune in gold and silver?”

“Yep, hell of a deputy sheriff you are! Not start drawing . . . . and fast!”

After finishing what they needed to get done, they each thanked Woody for his help and then started back to their vehicles. As they walked, Paul told them what he wanted to do. “Tell you what, just so we don’t attract any more attention than we already may have, let’s get out of here. We can meet down in Pawleys Island at the
Sonic
Drive-In
. I need something to drink and we can talk down there without people wondering what we are up to.”

******

As she munched on her ketchup laden French fries, Jayne agreed with the conclusion Paul and Chick had earlier arrived at. “I’m with you guys that NW means the northwest corner of the cemetery. That’s the back corner and it’s the area where the children are buried. I think he buried the money right there. We need to go for it.”

“For what my two cents are worth, I agree with what Jayne just said. Let’s go for it. Couple of things though, documenting the dig on video is going to be tough as we cannot light up the place like I would like, too many people down on the boats would likely see that something was going on. We will also have to keep the noise level from digging and talking to a minimum, but you probably have already been thinking along those lines.” Pete had raised several good points for them to consider. They all knew they would somehow have to mask any noise they would make to avoid others seeing and hearing them dig so close to where the boats were moored.

Sitting on the tailgate of Paul’s truck, Bobby Ray just sat there taking in the conversation as he munched away on a
Sonic
double cheeseburger. Finishing his burger, he offered up another point to be considered. “One more thing, we can’t leave the ground all dug up like we did at Duke’s place. If we do, someone is going to start asking questions and likely Old Woody would spill the beans about us all being there and poking around. We don’t need that kind of attention. When we leave, we need to make it look like we were not even there.”

“All good points,” Chick acknowledged, “this one is going to be a little harder than the first one.”

Paul listened to them talk while he was on the phone with Duke, fulfilling his promise to call him when they learned the location of the second site. “Duke is not coming down, but I could tell he appreciated the heads up on what we found. He just wants a call after we get done in the cemetery.”

After quickly wolfing down a cheeseburger and draining part of his Coca-Cola, Paul told the others what his plan was. “We have to do this tonight. The forecast I saw this morning has the next two days being pretty much being all rain and we don’t want to be leaving shoeprints all over the place in the soft ground. Besides, if we get in there and dig before it rains; the rain will help to cover up our tracks to some degree. We will need some setup time, but let’s hope the folks staying on the boats are asleep by midnight because we are going to have shovels in the ground by 1 a.m.” Paul took another long sip of his drink and then directed his next comment to Bobby Ray.”

“Bobby Ray, I know you have to work in the morning, but we need you to flash your badge to the security guard at the gate so we can get into the marina at that time of night. Come up with some kind of story to make it sound good to the guard, OK?”

“OK, I’ll be there. Won’t be worth much at work tomorrow, but I’ll be there.”

******

As planned they all met in the Waffle House parking lot on Highway 17, in Murrells Inlet, just before midnight. After grabbing some coffee to go and after making sure they had all turned their cell phones to the vibrate mode, they packed their gear into Chick’s van and Paul’s truck for the short ride to the marina.

Approaching the Reserve Plantation’s Security Booth, they could see the security gate was down across the driveway entrance. Pulling up to the Security Booth, Paul rolled down his driver’s door window and waited for the security guard to come out of the booth. After waiting for several moments for the guard to come out to greet them, Paul was almost tempted to blow the truck’s horn to get the guard’s attention. He quickly dismissed that thought as he did not want to attract anyone else’s attention despite the late hour of the day.

Impatiently, Paul waited for the guard to appear. “Where the heck is this guy? In the bathroom or what?”

After waiting a few more moments, with still no sign of the guard, Bobby Ray got out of Paul’s truck and walked over to the booth. As he did, he saw through the propped open door that the guard was sitting in his chair. Inside the booth a small fan was circulating the evening’s hot air and a small color television had the late edition of the local news playing. In moments the security gate went up and both vehicles quickly entered the complex.

As he got back into the truck, Paul asked Bobby Ray why the guard had not come outside to greet them. “That was quick. What did you tell him?”

“Hell of a security guard, I didn’t have to tell him anything. He had the screen door to the booth propped open, the TV on, and he was fast asleep in his chair. I just held the button to the gate until y’all got past it. He never even woke up. Hell of a service that man is providing to these folks who live here! I’m gonna get a job like that when I retire.”