Camino Ghosts полностью

Lovely glared at him for a long time as everyone strained to hear what she was about to say. She leaned an inch closer to the mike and said, “I know the spirits. I know when someone has gone onto the island.”

Monty offered a proud smile, as if he had finally cracked the witness and discredited her. “But you were on the island three weeks ago, with the archaeologists, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Some were white, some were black. Correct?”

“That’s right.”

“And no one was killed or injured, no one died, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“What happened to the curse?”

“I was there and I lifted it.”

“So you have that power?”

“I do.”

“Is the curse still lifted, or is it back on the island?”

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you go find out?”

The laughter was instant, loud, and contagious. Not a single person tried not to laugh. Judge Burch covered his mike with his hand and enjoyed the moment. All the lawyers were amused. Some of the spectators practically howled. Even Monty couldn’t help but appreciate the humor.

Judge Burch finally tapped his gavel and said, “Okay, okay. Let’s have some order. Continue, Mr. Martin.”

Monty was still chuckling when he said, “I’ll pass, but thank you.” He stopped smiling and asked, “Now, before your visit, when was the last time the curse of Dark Isle claimed a victim?”

“Last spring, about a year ago.” Her matter-of-factness slowed Monty for a second.

He sized her up, or tried to, and asked, “Okay, what happened?”

“Four men went to the island. All four were dead within a week.”

“Four white men?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you know their names?”

“No.”

“Okay. What were they doing there?”

“Don’t know.”

“All right. Were their deaths reported anywhere?”

She shrugged as if she had no way of knowing. “Can’t say.”

“What caused their deaths?”

“A bacteria got in their skin.”

The cardinal rule of trial procedure is: Never ask a question if you don’t know the answer. Monty had learned this in law school and had adhered to it strictly for almost thirty years. But, at that moment, he simply couldn’t stop.

“And this bacteria was caused by the curse?”

“That’s right.”

Gifford Knox sat in the back row and reveled in Lovely’s performance. Next to him was Thalia Chan, a reporter for The New York Times, a woman he had known for a decade. Her favorite topic was environmental problems caused by big companies, and she had written several long pieces on Gifford and his exploits. She had seen him arrested twice, hauled into court, fined, and threatened. She had seen him testify in a coal ash case. Over the course of their friendship, Gifford had fed her many stories and plenty of inside dirt that was off the record. He was her favorite “unnamed source,” and he had never leaked something that wasn’t accurate.

Gifford had told her about Dark Isle months earlier. He had outlined the key players and repeated things he’d heard over dinner and drinks. He had not told her or anyone else about his fake accident and bogus lawsuit. Even for a bigmouth like Gifford, there were some things that should be kept quiet.

A big story in the Times was coming, and no one but Gifford knew about it. He couldn’t wait.

After a day and a half on the witness stand, Lovely was excused and allowed to sit at the table between Steven and Diane. Her performance could not have been better.

Steven’s next witness was Dr. Sargent, the archaeologist from Howard University. They went through the usual back-and-forth establishing his expertise — education, training, writings, experience, and so on. Of particular interest was his work with various African burial projects, beginning in Manhattan decades earlier and continuing to the present. On a large screen mounted in front of the jury box, Dr. Sargent started with a less-than-detailed map of Dark Isle, with most of the details given by Lovely. They included the approximate area of the settlement, the rows of houses, and the cemetery. He showed color photos taken during their recent expedition. Photos of the damage and debris caused by Hurricane Leo; photos of their team clearing the brush and foliage from the burial sites; photos of the actual dig. He said they found remnants of about eighty graves, some with wooden caskets, some without. He had photos of the badly deteriorated caskets. The cemetery was about twenty feet above sea level at its highest point. Leo’s storm surge on Dark Isle had never been determined, but the National Weather Service had decided that on the north end of Camino Island it had risen to twenty-seven feet. The eye then passed directly over Dark Isle, so it was reasonable to assume that the entire island had been under water. Even the most recent graves showed signs of severe water damage. Dr. Sargent said that, in his opinion, the graves and caskets were soaked with seawater for several hours, thus seriously degrading the samples needed for DNA testing.

None of the bones and teeth matched Lovely’s sample.