“In 1931 Holman reportedly found the Meskwaki Gold Spring. He even brought back some small pieces of gold to prove it. Apparently, before he could bring a team in to recoup the gold, he had an accident and crashed. But others have suggested that maybe he was killed, his floatplane intentionally shot down.”
“Because of the gold?”
Senator Perry nodded. “Some think it could have been because of the gold, but others think it might have been a rival bootlegging mob. They killed him in a violent organized crime driven turf-war.”
“And your son thinks something from the wreck of the J. F. Johnson revealed the truth?”
“It appears so.”
Tom said, “And it will change history…”
“What happened to Holman?”
“He found it, but apparently there was too much for him to carry out on his little plane, so he sent a team back to Oshkosh, Wisconsin to bring in an expedition to retrieve the gold.”
Sam smiled. “Let me guess. They came in on board the J.F Johnson?”
The Senator nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“So, you think your son might have found this gold?”
“I don’t know, but that’s why you two fine gentlemen are here.”
A silence hung in the air as Sam and Tom mulled over what the Senator had said. Tom gave Sam a look which intoned he was interested and Sam should start asking some questions.
Sam finally broke the silence. “Sir, do you want to start from the beginning here?”
Senator Perry sighed. He rose from his chair and moved to a sideboard where a pair of crystal decanters stood on a silver platter with matching heavy based whisky glasses. He poured himself 3 fingers and raised the decanter to the two men in offer. Again, both waved a polite no thank you.
Sam was struck by the size of the man, he was overweight, and on his frame, Sam guessed his weight at around 400 pounds. A big man. Probably once a powerful man, but now political luncheons as a way of life had taken their toll. His skin was red compared to the light tan of his suit, and his fingers thick and bloated.
Replacing the crystal stopper, the Senator spoke “I blame myself. If my wife, God rest her soul, was still alive today, none of this ever would have happened.”
Sam made a thin-lipped smile. “Go on.”
“We’re a wealthy family. Always have been. My grandfather worked hard, so did my father. I went to Stanford Law for the betterment of my fellow Americans.”
“But your son wasn’t interested in the family tradition?”
The Senator sighed, heavily. “No. Fact is, my son’s an incredibly intelligent man and a lousy student.”
Sam and Tom remained silent.
The Senator finally continued. “He completed school as a solid C average student. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t disappointed, but after my wife passed away, I viewed things very differently.”
“You wanted him to go to university?”
“Of course I wanted him to go to university. We’re Perrys, we all have law degrees. But my son was never going to get through law. He might have achieved a C average in high school simply by showing up, but not law. No, I could have paid to get him in of course, but he never would have completed it.”
“So, what happened?”
The Senator expelled a deep breath of air. “Well, I gave him something none of the Perry fathers gave their sons.”
“What was that?”
“I let him choose what he wanted to do.” The Senator studied their impassive faces, searching for signs of a rebuke. When none were forthcoming, he continued. “We come from old money. That was never my concern for my son. Fact was, he never had to work a day in his life. I told him as much. I didn’t even care. Hell, my wife was a good woman, a hard-working person, and look what happened to her — she died before she got to have any time for herself. So I let my son choose.”
“What did he choose?”
“Well, like his hero Mr. Jack Holman he bought himself a floatplane.” The Senator paused again, his eyes squeezed tight as though the memories alone were painful. “He started spending a lot of time flying and diving the Great Lakes.”
“What was he looking for?” Sam asked.
“Nothing really. A good time. He saw himself as an adventurer. A wild treasure hunter. It was all fun and games. I figured I’d let him go and enjoy himself. At least he was doing something. He got his pilot’s license with a floatplane endorsement. Then his diving ticket. He told me he got into something called tech-diving, which went well and beyond the depth of recreational divers.”
“And that’s what brought him out here?” Sam asked.
The Senator nodded. “Yes. I believe he came up here to search for something related to that damned ship. But what he found on board led him to something completely different, where no one has seen him for nearly three weeks.”
“Why us?” Sam asked.
"Mr. Reilly your reputation precedes you as one of the most inventive and indeed successful treasure hunters on the globe. You may name your price, Sir, and I will meet it if you are successful. My interest is with the welfare and whereabouts of my son, but I also believe there's a decent chance you may find a prize to equal any of your previous conquests during the course of the investigation.” The Senator turned to face him. “I need your help.”
“But you’re already rich,” Sam said. “You’re not interested in the gold.”
“No. I’ve lost my son. All I’m interested in is my son.”
“What about the Police? Have you filed a missing-persons?”
“They’re not interested. There’s no sign he’s dead. He just hasn’t made contact with anyone for three weeks.”
“Is that unusual for him?”
“It is. He usually asks me to send money to his bank account when it runs out, which it does often.”
“He spends big?” Sam asked.
The Senator sighed, sheepishly. “I send him what he needs and not a penny more. He has a shared bank account. I deposit money when he runs out.”
“You keep him on a short financial leash?”
The Senator nodded. “It’s the only way I can be certain he’ll be in contact with me.”
Sam nodded, it was a noncommitted gesture. He wasn’t there to judge, just to find the kid. “What about the bank account?”
“What about it?”
“You said it was a joint account?”
“Yeah, why?”
“So, you can see if he’s been spending anything lately?”
“Yeah. There’s nothing.”
“When was the last withdrawal?”
“Three weeks ago. It was a mighty big one, too. Nearly two hundred thousand dollars in cash, leaving the account nearly empty.” The Senator shook his head. “I expected my son to ask for more money — I’d even prepared my response that he was being frivolous and I was tempted to cut him off — but instead, he never called.”
“What would your son have wanted with two hundred grand?”
“I have no idea.”
Sam looked at the photograph of the old shipwreck. “Look. From what you’ve told me, your son was involved in a lot of high risk-taking activities. Flying floatplanes through the alpine lakes, and tech-diving wrecks are both pretty dangerous activities.”
“I know what you think,” Senator Perry sighed, heavily. “My son’s most likely dead.”
Sam nodded. “It’s a possibility.”
“I can’t explain it. But I don’t think my son’s dead.” The Senator put his palms outward in a placating gesture. “I know, you’re going to assume I’m a father who lost his son, and is hoping for the best. But I just know, the way only a father could, that my son is still alive.”
“What do you think happened?”
“My guess. He found a new lead on board the J.F. Johnson shipwreck, and that led him off on a completely different tangent.”