Pulp! 2

Chapter 5

With Edge having already exited the diner/bar, I’m stuck with the bill. I pay it and head outside to join the others. While Sarah and Edge light up once more, I give the situation a quick review inside my brain. We left SuspenseFest to come to Phoenicia to look for the legendary Dutch Schultz treasure. A situation that deep down inside, I thought rather silly. But what the hell. As Edge said, the conference wasn’t at all suspenseful, so why not head out and find something to write about?

What we found, instead, were two Russians who take the legend of the Schultz treasure so seriously, they were willing to tie us up to the train tracks so they could get their rocks off when the upstate Amtrak train ran us over on its run down to NYC.

Now we run into a woman who, in essence, followed us here and who claims to possess more knowledge about Dutch Schultz’s treasure than anyone on the planet. I can only wonder if she’s aware of the Russians? I pose the question to her.

She shakes her head.

“Can’t say I’ve seen anyone matching the description of a father and son wearing identical blue Nike tracksuits,” she says. “But I’m not surprised they’re looking for the Schultz loot. The town is always full of treasure hunters looking to score big, especially in the warm weather months. And the hunters come in all shapes and sizes. Burly bearded bikers, skinny vegetarian eating granola types, even priests and nuns. I’ve seen them all.”

“So, this isn’t your first time here in Phoenicia,” Edge says, firing up another smoke. It’s a question.

“Nope,” she answers, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “I’ve been fascinated with Schultz’s treasure for years. I wrote about it in one of my books. It wasn’t until later that I discovered the connection with my great grandfather which, of course, fascinated me even more. And now, with the discovery of the slave remains in Albany and their reburial at St. Agnes Cemetery in North Albany, I’m pretty convinced I can actually locate the lost treasure once and for all.”

“Sure, you want us along for the ride?” I say, shooting Edge a look. “Maybe you want all the loot for yourself.”

She smiles, shakes her head. “Nonsense. First, I think it will be fun for all of us to look for the treasure together. And second, I could use you guys as my bodyguards just in case those nice Russian friends you speak of should happen to turn back up.”

“She’s got a point,” Edge says, blue smoke oozing from his nostrils. Then, his eyes back on her. “Fifty/fifty,” he adds. “We split the loot fifty/fifty. Err, fifty for you, twenty-five for Baker, twenty-five for moi.”

She considers the offer, c***s her head.

She says, “Word is the treasure was worth six million in 1935. That’s about sixty million today. So, sure, fifty/fifty will be fine, so long as you protect me and assist me in finding it.” She focuses entirely on me. “I know a little bit about your talent for finding hidden antiquities, Mr. Baker. I should say you’ll make an invaluable partner.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence,” I say.

Edge holds out the hand that doesn’t hold the whiskey bottle, makes a fist.

“Give me the rock,” he says. “Just to make this partnership official.”

She makes a fist, punches it. Then, she holds the fist out to me. I punch hers. I can’t help but wonder what ever happened to a good old fashioned handshake. Times change.

“Now that we have that settled,” she says, “we have to find our way upstate without a car.”

Speaking of changing times, I pull out my smartphone. “There’s an app for that,” I say. “Uber.”