Pirate Latitudes: A Novel by Michael Crichton Read Free Book Online Page B

back to Hunter. “I advise you to keep it.”
    Black Eye blinked rapidly. His eyes were weak, and pink, like a rabbit’s. Tears ran almost continuously from them; from time to time, he brushed them away. His right eye had a large black spot near the pupil — hence his name. “You did not need me to tell you this, Hunter.”
    “No, Don Diego.”
    The Jew nodded, and got up from his bench. He crossed his narrow shop and closed the door to the street. Then he closed the shutters to the window, and turned back to Hunter. “Well?”
    “How is your health, Don Diego?”
    “My health, my health,” Don Diego said, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his loose robe. He was sensitive about his injured left hand. “My health is indifferent as always. You did not need me to tell you this, either.”
    “Is the shop successful?” Hunter asked, looking around the room. On rude tables, gold jewelry was displayed. The Jew had been selling from this shop for nearly two years now.
    Don Diego sat down. He looked at Hunter, and stroked his beard, and wiped away his tears. “Hunter,” he said, “you are vexing. Speak your mind.”
    “I was wondering,” Hunter said, “if you still worked in powder.”
    “Powder? Powder?” The Jew stared across the room, frowning as if he did not know the meaning of the word. “No,” he said. “I do not work in powder. Not after this” — he pointed to his blackened eye — “and after this.” He raised his fingerless left hand. “No longer do I work in powder.”
    “Can your will be changed?”
    “Never.”
    “Never is a long time.”
    “Never is what I mean, Hunter.”
    “Not even to attack Cazalla?”
    The Jew grunted. “Cazalla,” he said heavily. “Cazalla is in Matanceros and cannot be attacked.”
    “I am going to attack him,” Hunter said quietly.
    “So did Captain Edmunds, this year past.” Don Diego grimaced at the memory. He had been a partial backer of that expedition. His investment — fifty pounds — had been lost. “Matanceros is invulnerable, Hunter. Do not let vanity obscure your sense. The fortress cannot be overcome.” He wiped the tears from his cheek. “Besides, there is nothing there.”
    “Nothing in the fortress,” Hunter said. “But in the harbor?”
    “The harbor? The harbor?” Black Eye stared into space again. “What is in the harbor? Ah. It must be the treasure naos lost in the August storm, yes?”
    “One of them.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “I know.”
    “One nao ?” The Jew blinked even more rapidly. He scratched his nose with the forefinger of his injured left hand — a sure sign he was lost in thought. “It is probably filled with tobacco and cinnamon,” he said gloomily.
    “It is probably filled with gold and pearls,” Hunter said. “Otherwise it would have made straight for Spain, and risked capture. It went to Matanceros only because the treasure is so great it dared not risk a seizure.”
    “Perhaps, perhaps . . .”
    Hunter watched the Jew carefully. The Jew was a great actor.
    “Suppose you are right,” he said finally. “It is of no interest to me. A nao in Matanceros harbor is as safe as if it were moored in Cádiz itself. It is protected by the fortress and the fortress cannot be taken.”
    “True,” Hunter said. “But the gun batteries which guard the harbor can be destroyed — if your health is good, and if you will work in powder once again.”
    “You flatter me.”
    “Most assuredly I do not.”
    “What has my health to do with this?”
    “My plan,” Hunter said, “is not without its rigors.”
    Don Diego frowned. “You are saying I must come with you?”
    “Of course. What did you think?”
    “I thought you wanted money. You want me to come?”
    “It is essential, Don Diego.”
    The Jew stood up abruptly. “To attack Cazalla,” he said, suddenly excited. He began to pace back and forth.
    “I have dreamt of his death each night for ten years, Hunter. I have