“Sweet!” Bones exclaimed.
“It must have been.” Remillard opened a desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder full of yellowed newspaper clippings. He opened it and, right on the top, lay an article from the old Boston Post. It showed a street swamped with molasses. He passed it to Bones, who read the article with interest as Remillard continued. “Twenty-one people died, and one hundred-fifty were injured in the accident. Several buildings were swept off their foundations, and one of the elevated trains on Commercial Street went off the rails. The molasses traveled at about thirty-five miles per hour with two tons of pressure behind it. It decimated a good portion of that neighborhood.
“One of the buildings in the area was home to a descendant of Sexton Robert Newman, the man who, in April, 1775, hung the lanterns in the steeple of Old North Church, or Christ Church, and waited to see if the British would come by land or by sea. The church was ideal for the purpose, as it is highly visible, even sometimes serving as a lighthouse.”
“They came by sea, right?” Bones asked.
“Correct. This served to alert not only Revere, but also the militia in nearby Charlestown. If they let the lanterns burn too long, the British would see them, and all would be lost. Anyway, getting back to the molasses story, the lantern must have been in the man’s house until the molasses swept it, and perhaps all of the man’s possessions, away. Sometime during the excavation, a worker found it. Not knowing its value, but recognizing it as an antique, he took it home. Eventually, it found its way to the Old State House, where it’s now on display.”
“Where’s the second lantern?” Dane asked.
“Missing. No one has seen it since shortly after the Midnight Ride.”
“What does speculation say?”
Remillard smirked.
“History, not speculation, tells us that after the lanterns were extinguished that night, the redcoats caught the sexton carrying the second one down the stairs. They arrested him and seized the lantern, then brought it aboard H.M.S. Somerset, which lay at anchor nearby. Somerset took part in several important battles, but she was lost two and-a-half years later when she ran aground and foundered off the coast of Cape Cod.”
“So the lantern is somewhere on the bottom of the North Atlantic.” Bones chewed his lip, clearly mulling over the implications.
“It’s possible, but the people of Truro and Provincetown divided up the spoils of the wreck.”
“So it could also be that someone has the second lantern and doesn’t even know it.” Bones sounded discouraged at the thought.
“What’s so important about finding this lantern?” Dane asked. “The historical significance?” His heart raced. Despite his skepticism, this mystery from Colonial times had him intrigued.
“Nick would have been the better person to answer that question.” Remillard stroked his goatee, his eyes downcast. “He hinted that Revere was sitting on important, perhaps even dangerous knowledge, and said the lanterns were the keys, with emphasis on the key.”
“Did either of you ever study the lantern that has been found?”
“Not yet. Nick applied for permission to study it, but hadn’t gotten approval. He wasn’t concerned — he said we needed both lanterns in order to solve the mystery. ”
Dane considered this. Remillard seemed like a level-headed man, not at all prone to wacko theories. And, if Dane were honest with himself, he had to admit he was dying to get to the bottom of this mystery. Besides, he had given his word.
“Can you tell us anything else? I know it’s not truly our mystery to solve, but I did give my word.”
“Only that he had been acting oddly the past few days. He seemed to think he was in danger. “
Dane glanced at Bones and could tell they were thinking the same thing. Had Andrews’ death truly been an accident?
“Otherwise,” Remillard continued, “Nick was secretive about his project. I suspect he planned to tell me more last night, had he made it to our meeting. He has a daughter who only recently came back into his life. She might know more than I.” He scribbled a name and phone number on a sheet of paper and handed it to Dane. “Please let me know if you find the lantern.” He shook hands first with Dane, then with Bones. “I’d like to see Nick’s work finished.”
They thanked him for his help and left the office.
“I need to find the university library, and then I’m going to call Andrews’ daughter. I know it’s not how you wanted to spend our leave time, but are you up for a little detective work?”
“Looking for a two-hundred year old lantern and maybe running afoul of dangerous men?” Bones fixed him with a blank stare that, moments later, split into a broad grin. “I’m in!”
CHAPTER 5
“This chick we’re meeting, do you think she’s cute?” Bones winked at a pair of redheads who were walking along the street, headed in the opposite direction. One giggled and slowed a step, but her friend took her by the hand and hurried her along.
“I have no idea.” Dane had followed up on the only lead Remillard could give them. Andrews’ daughter initially greeted his call with suspicion but, when he explained the situation and mentioned Remillard’s name, she warmed up enough to agree to a meeting.
“Did she sound skinny? I don’t like skinny women. Well, they aren’t my favorite.”
Not for the first time, Dane wondered if Bones was doing all this just to get under Dane’s skin.
The smell of fish hung in the hot air as they crossed beneath the Central Artery and downtown Boston unfurled before them. Crossing the high, uneven cobblestones that paved the area around Quincy Market, they stopped in front of Faneuil Hall.
Built in 1742, the three-story brick structure had served as both a meeting house and marketplace, and was one of America’s most renowned historical landmarks. A grasshopper weather vane, a tourist favorite in its own right, perched atop the golden dome and white cupola. Dane and Bones found seats near the statue of Samuel Adams, cousin to John Adams and the original lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts, and settled into wait.
“I think this might be her.” Bones indicated an attractive young woman. “Nice.”
Dane had to agree. She moved with a grace that made her seem to walk on air, rather than paving stones. She wore a tight T-shirt and snug fitting jeans with the cuffs up around her calves. She wore her black hair tied up in a ponytail, and clutched a battered leather satchel as if her life depended on it.
She stopped a few paces away and pushed her sunglasses up to rest atop her head, revealing pale blue eyes. “Mister Maddock?”
Before Dane could reply, Bones stepped in, grabbed her hand, and held it gently. “That’s Maddock, and I’m his best friend, Bones. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Andrews.”
“You can call me Jillian.”
“Can I carry your bag for you, Jillian?” Bones reached for the satchel, but Jillian pulled it tight against her chest.
“No.” Her face tensed, then relaxed. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I don’t know you.”
“How about we sit down for minute?” Dane patted the spot next to him. “We can get acquainted before we talk shop.”
Jillian nodded and settled down next to Dane. Bones straddled a wrought iron armrest and looked down at them with interest.
“Like I said on the phone, we’re very sorry for your loss,” Dane began.