Catherine's Cross (31 page)

Seth rose from bed, showered, and dressed. Jenks remained in bed and watched him. He put his Glock in the holster at his waist, and kissed her good-bye.

That afternoon, Seth was testifying in a narcotics case, and Jenks went back to Port Royal. Gigi's house was to be shown by Simmons Realty to a couple of prospective buyers. She knew she needed to clean up the broken vase that she had hurled in frustration into the fireplace. Her plans were to clean up the glass and make sure the home was tidy before returning to the Walker's property.

She used a broom and dustpan to collect the larger pieces of glass and then vacuumed the smaller particles. As she struck one of the fireplace bricks with the nozzle, she was startled to see the masonry surface move. She got down on her hands and knees and moved a couple of bricks. They were loose, and she carefully jiggled them out of their location. She gasped—a secret cubbyhole was within the fireplace. Hidden inside was a leather journal, a set of keys, and CDs.

She was stunned by her find, and the words of Meta Andrews raced through her mind.
Look closer.
She recalled that Meta's ancestor Joseph Andrews had kept his Civil War era journal concealed in his fireplace.

Her hands shook as she removed the leather binder and CDs from their hiding place. Jenks opened the journal and inside were records of Gigi's dives. She looked over the entries and found that Gigi had kept thorough records. As she read, Jenks noted that her sister had recorded the GPS coordinates, the time of the dive, water temperature, weather, and visibility conditions. Jenks read from the log:

September 18, 2011— I am diving at slack tide in the Morgan River near Tilden Landing.

After the completion of the dive, Gigi had notated:

Found three artifacts—ancient beer bottles from the river near the old Morgan River Tavern.

Jenks turned the page and read another entry. Along with the technical aspects of the dive, Gigi had recorded:

I have collected two wine bottles today. Dr. Henry is going to be proud of me.

“Dr. Henry—who is Dr. Henry?” Jenks exclaimed out loud. She read through the entries on several pages and then turned to the back of the book. There were a number of receipts that were secured into the log. As Jenks read the receipts, she realized this was a record of the items that Gigi had reported to the office of the South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology. Jenks looked closely at the records; at the bottom of each receipt was a signed acknowledgement from Dr. Paul Henry. She put the journal on the desk and then dialed a phone number.

“Dave Patterson,” the man on the receiver said.

“Dave, this is Jenks Ellington.”

“Yes, ma'am, how are you today?”

“I'm well. Dave, I was wondering if you could help me with a couple of questions?”

“I'll try.”

“I was looking over some of Gigi's records, and I came across an entry referring to a Dr. Paul Henry.”

“Yes, Dr. Henry. He's the director of the South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology that oversees the records of artifacts collected in South Carolina waters. You could call him the overseer of the hobby diver program.”

“The hobby diver program?”

“Yes, ma'am. When I went out with you to look for artifacts near Woodward Point, we talked about your sister having a hobby diving license. This type of license permits a diver to collect up to ten artifacts a day from a shipwreck site, and every quarter a written declaration should be reported to that agency.”

“I think I recall you saying that the value of the artifact does not make a difference to this agency.”

“Yes, that's correct. The agency is more interested in the location where the artifact was found and the type of object.”

“I just want to make sure I'm clear about this—as long as the artifacts are declared, the state permits you to keep your discovery, regardless of the value?”

“Yes, ma'am, that's the way I understand it.” There was silence on the line for a moment, and then Dave asked, “Miss Ellington, did you find something?”

“Dave, I think so. Thank you for answering my questions.”

“Yes, ma'am—have a good afternoon.”

Jenks hung up the receiver and then read more in the journal. There were numerous entries concerning Gigi's dives; some of them were with Frank Hiller, but most of them were solo.
Her record keeping is so thorough—she was a budding archaeologist.

She placed the journal on the kitchen table and opened the CD case. Sliding one of the CDs into her laptop, Jenks was amazed to see it contained video records of the artifacts that Gigi had found. She clicked
Play All
at the computer's prompt, and the first video began. She could see that the video documentation had not taken place at Gigi's home, but had been recorded in a room that had metal countertops and walls that appeared to be a dark shade of concrete. Jenks did not recognize the room where the video had been made.

As she continued to watch, Gigi walked into the frame. She was smiling broadly and displaying a light-green bottle to the camera. Jenks noticed that the camera itself was close to eye level and holding steady.

“Either someone else shot this or you were using a tripod,” Jenks quietly said while looking at the computer screen.

When the next video played, Jenks drew in a deep breath. Gigi's hands were holding a box with wooden sides and a wire mesh bottom, and in it rattled dozens of gold and silver coins. On the next video clip, she appeared on the screen holding a magnificent gold artifact. Jenks gasped—Gigi was holding in her hand a gold cross accentuated with red stones.
Iris Elliott.
Gigi kissed the cross, and then held it proudly up at the side of her face.

The sight of Gigi's happy face made Jenks forget about the cross and the coins for a moment. All she could think of was that Gigi looked so vibrant. And then the video stopped, and Gigi's cheerful face was gone. Jenks sat down at the table, stunned from the experience. The journal lay in front of her; she picked it up and read again from the pages.

Jenks went inside the Beaufort County Court House. She held a duffel bag that contained Gigi's possessions. Passing through the security station, she looked around the large foyer to find the courtroom where Seth would be giving testimony. One of the police officers working the security detail noticed her. “Miss, can I help you with anything?”

“Yes, I'm looking for Detective Mason.”

“Ma'am, he's still in court. If you'd like to sit down in the lobby you can wait for him.”

“I'd like to wait for him outside if that's okay.”

“I'll tell him—er . . . your name, Miss?”

“I'm Jenks Ellington, and the detective is a friend of mine.”

“When he comes out, I'll let him know you're waiting for him outside.”

Jenks left and sat down on a brick wall that was situated between the courthouse and another administrative building. Her eye caught sight of two bluebirds that were playfully engaging one another on the lawn. She thought of their rare beauty—so full of life. Then her mind went back to Gigi and Frank Hiller.

Seth had told her he would be in court that day to give testimony in a narcotics case, and a few minutes after four o'clock, he came out of the building. He waved to her when he saw her sitting on the wall. As he approached, a look of concern appeared on his face. “I was told that you were waiting for me out here.” He drew closer and a frown showed on his face. “Jenks, what's the matter? You look worried.”

“I have something to show you.”

“I'm finished with testimony. Would you like to go to my office?”

“Yes—please.”

As they walked across the lawn to the sheriff's department, she explained what she had discovered in a secret cubbyhole in Gigi's fireplace. She opened the duffel bag and pulled out the set of keys. “I have no idea what these are for.”

When they reached the building, Seth opened the door for her, and then escorted her inside. They took the elevator to the second floor and passed by Detective Campbell's office on the way to Seth's office. Thomas was sitting at his desk filling out paperwork as they passed by. He nodded to them. Seth placed the CD in his computer and intently watched Gigi's video documentation of her artifacts. He frowned as the video continued, and then his eyes grew wide when he saw the gold cross and Gigi's face as she proudly displayed the object.

When the video was finished he turned to Jenks with a stunned expression. Tears had welled in Jenks's eyes and were rolling down her cheeks. Seth was quick to remove his handkerchief and wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“There's more.” She removed the journal from her handbag and set it on his desk.

Opening the book to a marker, Jenks read an entry aloud.

I have been diving for the remnants of the
Defiance
, or should I say the
Fort Sumter
, near Woodward Point for better than two months. I feel certain that I must be close to where the ship would have gone down. I am confident of my calculations. I am determined to continue.

Jenks stopped reading from the entry and took a deep breath. “This is the next entry.”

I have been out to Woodward Point, but the winds have been steadily increasing all afternoon . . . too strong for a dive. I will wait until after the storm has passed to dive again.

Jenks looked at Seth and said, “She recorded that a nor'easter came through this area in the spring.”

“Yes, I remember it. It was a powerful storm and late in the season. We normally get storms like that in the winter.”

Jenks felt her hands trembling, and she read from the journal again.

I have returned to Woodward Point. Skeleton Island has been torn in two by the powerful tides. The nor'easter that passed through two nights ago also appears to have shifted the sands and silt of the ocean floor. I am finding coins and artifacts that I should have come across before now. Today was the day!

Seth put his arm around her and their eyes locked. “Would you like for me to read?” he asked in a compassionate voice.

She wiped tears from her eyes and gently shook her head. As she composed herself again, Jenks said, “Gigi spent the next two weeks visiting the site.” Gingerly turning the page, Jenks said, “This is the last entry.”

I have today found an item of great significance and value. The gold object I have discovered in the same location as the coins could be the Petersburg Cross. After all these years underwater, the condition of the piece is remarkable.

Jenks looked into Seth's eyes and finished the entry.

I have cleaned the gold artifact, and I am virtually certain of its origin. On the back are the artist's initials, AGK, for Aleksi Gregori Kartashkin. The double curl on the beginning of each letter is there. I can hardly believe it. I will surprise Frank with my discovery. His birthday is just a couple of weeks from now. He will be thrilled. Together, we will authenticate the find, and share in any proceeds that this magnificent object might bring. I know he will be proud of me. Fleming would never believe what's stored in his old building!!

“She ended the last sentence with two exclamation marks.”

Seth's face darkened. “It appears she did find the Petersburg Cross.”

Jenks wiped a tear from her face and then reached for the duffel bag. She brought out a sheet of paper. “Look at this list. Gigi documented every item that was found near Woodward Point—even the cross. She listed herself and Frank Hiller as the salvagers of the items.”

“She died before she was able to make the declaration,” Seth observed.

“Dear God—she was going to tell him on his birthday.”

Jenks wiped her face and looked into Seth's eyes. “I don't understand the last line of the entry. ‘Fleming would never believe what's stored in his old building.'”

He looked at her and repeated the name, “Fleming. Where have I heard that name before?”