The Gladstone Bag by Charlotte MacLeod Read Free Book Online

I guess. Except him.” Groot nodded toward Count Radunov. “I don’t know where he comes into the picture.”
    “Nor do I,” said the count. “What is this picture?”
    “Ev’s book. About finding the treasure. Alding’s going to psyche out where to dig, Ev’s going to write a day-by-day account while the digging’s in progress, and I’m going to do the illustrations. Liz is supposed to paint some kind of mood piece for the jacket, and Black John’s got this great idea for a thriller, like he says. It’s a really neat package.”
    “So it would seem. Does Mrs. Sabine know what you have in mind?”
    “I’m not sure. I think Ev was intending to surprise her.”
    “You’ve certainly surprised me.”
    Emma hadn’t expected the first bomb to drop quite this soon. Ought she to let Adelaide know right away about this cheeky proposition or wait and see whether anything came of it, which seemed unlikely to the ultimate degree. The worst that could happen, she supposed, was that Wont or one of his associates would leak word of a treasure hunt to the media for the sake of advance publicity, and they’d get a horde of sightseers trying to invade the island.
    Even that mightn’t be a total disaster. Vincent and his helpers could keep them from actually landing, she supposed. Adelaide’s family didn’t care much what happened to Pocapuk; it was too remote, too quiet, it cost too much to keep going. The Pence family compound in Connecticut suited them all much better. As soon as the old lady was in her grave, they’d be putting the island on the market; perhaps it would be wiser to sell before she went and save the inheritance tax. Some extra publicity and the hope that springs eternal whenever the subject of pirate treasure arises might enable the Pences to make a real killing on the property. She’d better not panic just yet.
    “That sounds most interesting,” she said. “I shan’t interfere unless it becomes necessary. Naturally it will be in your best interests as well as Mrs. Sabine’s to keep the project a secret, and of course you won’t go rooting about digging holes in the property until you’ve received permission and we’ve made sure it won’t be detrimental in any way to the buildings, the gardens, or the septic tank. There’s a caretaker, I’m told, who’ll be able to set you straight on what’s allowable and what isn’t.”
    Wont set down his jug with a thump and glared at her through his beard. “Is that what you call noninterference, Mrs. Kelling? May I remind you that this is my project?”
    Emma could be very much the grande dame when she chose. “And must I remind you, Mr. Wont, that Pocapuk is not your island? Doesn’t it occur to you that you’ve been remarkably high-handed in organizing your treasure hunt without so much as dropping Mrs. Sabine a hint as to what you were planning to do? Were you others aware that Mr. Wont hadn’t bothered to get any sort of authorization from the owner before involving you in his project?”
    “Ev said it would be all right,” Groot mumbled.
    “Mrs. Sabine did invite us to come,” Lisbet Quainley put in. “I got a nice note from her.”
    While this discussion was going on, Mrs. Fath had been carefully unwrapping a stick of sugarless gum she’d taken from her capacious blue canvas handbag. She doubled it over, popped it into her mouth, chewed twice, and made her pronouncement. “The old lady won’t care. She’s made up her mind to sell the place anyway.”
    That was probably so, but Emma wasn’t going to let this spooky, middle-aged frump make up her mind for her. “In that case, it would be doubly important for us to leave everything in salable condition,” she said.
    “Please understand that I see no objection to your painting or writing; I gather the Pocapuk legend has already been well publicized. I don’t expect Mrs. Sabine will mind, either, though I have a feeling she thinks it’s a pack of nonsense, as such tales usually