“Did you ever tell anyone about Stanford?”
“Who could I tell? I never saw Stanford, and to this day I don’t know whether Stanford was his first or last name. But I’ll tell you what, it brings a smile to my old eyes to know that people are still trying to locate what’s on that aircraft.”
“Why?”
“Because that means Stanford never lived to see it.” Yago grinned, wildly. “And I’ll make you a deal.”
Sam sighed. “Go on.”
“I’ll tell you exactly where Jack Holman’s wreck is, but I want you to promise me something.”
“I’m listening.”
“My story about the stranger who turned up with the Confederate gold coin wasn’t entirely true. He wasn’t a stranger. He was Jack Holman, my father, and a terrible gambler.”
“Your father found Jefferson Davis’s hidden Confederate Treasury?”
“My father thought so. He was in the process of organizing an expedition to retrieve the entire fortune when he was murdered.”
“This is why everyone’s dying all of a sudden. It’s not about the Meskwaki Gold Spring. Someone knows about the Confederate gold.” Sam stopped, his eyes fixed on Yago. “You must know that Stanford’s dead. He must’ve been dead for years.”
“Of course, I do. I’m an old man now, so unless he’s a couple decades over a hundred, he’s long gone.”
“So then, what do you want us to do?”
“If you find my father’s journal, I understand you have four days to return it to the kidnappers in exchange for your friend’s father.”
“That’s right.”
“Good. Then that means you have three days to locate the Confederate gold and remove it before you hand over the journal. I just hope you’re as good a treasure hunter as you say you are.”
Sam grinned. “So do I.”
Chapter Forty-Two
The next day Sam and Tom hiked down to the river, retrieved their dive gear, and followed the diver back through the Meskwaki Gold Spring without any problem. Virginia met them near the shore of Isle Royale. Sam removed his fins and handed them to her, before climbing the boarding ladder onto the aft deck of the Annabelle May.
Virginia waited until he removed the heavy closed-circuit rebreather system from his back before she asked, “Did you find it?”
“The Meskwaki Gold Spring?” Sam said.
“Yeah. Did it lead you to Holman’s wreck?”
“As a matter of fact, it did.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s great! Where?”
“I’ll explain on the way, but right now, we need to get moving.”
“Where are we going?”
“Duluth. There’s a floatplane waiting for us to rent.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Sam waited in the Aviation Flight School office for a rental manager to meet him. Next to him, Virginia waited impatiently. Tom had already stepped outside to enjoy the picturesque landscape of the unique amphibious air base, which accommodated both land and sea plane traffic. From where Sam was sitting, he could see the backdrop of Duluth city and the splendor of Lake Superior.
Something on the TV caught his attention.
A woman who appeared too young to be a candidate, and much too attractive, was giving a speech about her vision of Minnesota under her Senatorial leadership. She had an easy-to-watch kind of face, with an amiable smile and confident voice. She spoke intelligently and eloquently, while trying to hide the remnants of an Irish accent.
Sam listened to her speak for a while, before turning to Virginia, who was seated in the chair beside him. “Hey, for a politician, she seems all right. Much too young a candidate to be accepted by the more conservative members of the electorate — even in Minnesota that’s voted Democrat every election since 1976 — but hey, she might get in one day. I hope she wins.”
Virginia also watching the TV, turned to face him. “She already has.”
“Has what?”
Virginia smiled. “Won the position of Senator for Minnesota.”
“Senator Perry’s been dead less than three days,” Sam said. “How did she get the job so quickly?”
“Gubernatorial Appointment.”
“Of course,” Sam said, his eyes filled with a vacant expression.
Virginia sighed. “Didn’t you learn anything at that expensive private school of yours?”
“I learned how to dive on the weekends, sail in the afternoons, and fly floatplanes in the summer. What more could I have wanted to learn?”
“How about how your country’s electoral system works?”
Sam shrugged. “I think you’ve got me pegged for someone else. While I take my voting responsibilities seriously, I have zero interest in running for government.”
“Obviously not and it’s a good thing, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means if you’d paid more attention during social studies at school, you would have learned that for thirty-six states, vacancies to the U.S. Senate during a sitting member’s term, through resignation, expulsion, or death, are replaced by Gubernatorial Appointment. The remaining fourteen states require a special election to be called.”
“Sure,” Sam said, his face still not showing any sort of recognition.
“Minnesota is one of the thirty-six states that utilize Gubernatorial Appointment in this circumstance. Basically, it means the governor is allowed to appoint the interim Senator for the remainder of the term or until the following November when a formal election must be held.”
“Okay. How does the Governor choose?”
“He or she doesn’t choose so much, as refines the list of current pre-selected candidates.”
“Meaning?”
“The candidates must be of the same political party as the Senator who vacated the seat. If the vacancy occurs before a specific number of days prior to the regular primary — in Minnesota this is six weeks — the election is held the following November. If it occurs within that period of days before the regular primary, the election is held on the second November election after the vacancy occurs. And lastly, but possibly most importantly, the governor makes the appointment by selecting from a list of three provided by the party.”
A worried frown formed between his brow. “Who were the other two candidates?”
“What?” Virginia asked.
“You said the party needs to provide a list of three candidates.” Sam shifted on his seat to take another look at the new Senator. “Obviously she was one of those people. Who were the other two?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Can you find out for me?”
“Should be able to. It should be public domain.” Virginia opened her smartphone and Googled the list of possible candidates. Three names immediately came up. She ran her eyes across the list. “It says here that the three candidates included Rachel Murphy, who’s the cute, vivacious redhead and Senator Appointee, and two others. It says here, the first of the other two candidates had voluntarily excused himself from the list, citing recent diagnosis of a significant medical illness.”
“And the second pre-selected candidate?”
“A man named Malcolm Bennet.”
Sam glanced over Virginia’s shoulder at her phone, taking in the image of an elderly man with the typical stately appearance of a lifelong politician. “Why wasn’t he selected?”
“I don’t know.” Virginia clicked on the link next to the man’s name. “There’s an article here that says Mr. Malcolm Bennet stood down as a candidate after the recent loss of his son, who died of a heroin overdose in New York. Bennet is currently in the process of challenging the coroner’s findings, making a statement that his son had never touched heroin in his life and that there must be a mistake. His believes his son was murdered and he intends to find out.”