“She’s probably coming back,” Jamal whispered. “Come on, let’s hit that bathroom window.”

  Joe and Jamal carefully made their way across the dark room and entered the bathroom. Joe pulled the door partly shut. The bathroom window seemed large enough for the boys to fit through, and Jamal started to open it. But the window was stuck. Joe helped, but together the boys still could not budge it.

  “It’s not locked,” Jamal whispered, “it’s just jammed.”

  Then Joe heard Peg come into the bungalow.

  With a forceful heave, Jamal and Joe pushed up on the window. The window seemed to give just a bit, although it still was not opening. Jamal let out a grunt as he pushed harder. Then he closed his eyes, angry at himself.

  Joe and Jamal froze a moment to see if Peg had heard the sound.

  “Hello!” Peg yelled from the living room. “Hello! Is anybody there?”

  Joe and Jamal looked at each other in tense silence.

  “If someone is in this place,” Peg called out, “you’d better fess up right now. I’ve got a bottle of acid in my hand.”

  Jamal held up his hands to Joe, wondering if they should declare themselves. Joe shook his head. He was thinking. It was a tight spot to be sure, but he had squirmed out of tighter before.

  “I’m warning you,” Peg called as she drew nearer to the bathroom, “this stuff will burn your face something terrible!”

  Jamal looked desperately at Joe.

  “Hello!” Peg called, slowly drawing closer. “If someone is there, you’d better tell me right now. I don’t like folks barging into my house, and I won’t hesitate to throw this acid at you.”

  As Peg spoke the last few words, Joe gave the window a powerful upward shove. This time the window slid open, the shove timed perfectly so as to be covered by the sound of Peg’s voice.

  “Hello!” Peg shouted. “Are you in the bathroom? Is that where you are?”

  First Jamal, then Joe squeezed out the window. As Peg kept calling, the boys raced across the dampened ground, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the bottle of acid. When the dense trees finally gave way to the white sand of the beach, Joe and Jamal fell on the ground, panting.

  “Hardy,” Jamal gasped, “you had me going there for a second.”

  “Stick with me, Hawkins,” Joe replied. “I’ll show you every trick in the book.”

  • • •

  Joe and Jamal met Frank at ten-thirty in front of the Parrot’s Paradise restaurant. The streets were still wet, but the rain looked as if it was gone for the night. A few people were out but not many. As the boys strolled through the village, they brought each other up to date on their recent findings.

  “So we know Pierre Montclare feels guilty about something,” Joe said. “Maybe it’s about yelling at Chrissy and maybe it’s about something else.”

  “Like trying to kill her,” Jamal said.

  “And we know Peg Riley has stolen pirate loot,” Frank said. “And we also know she keeps it at the bungalow where Chrissy was staying.”

  “In other words,” Jamal said, “based on the two encounters we just had, both Montclare and Riley seem even guiltier than before.”

  “Correct,” Frank said. “But we don’t have anything conclusive on either one of them. We’re still in the realm of guesswork. Which means we need to keep the suspect list open.”

  Across the street the boys saw a young islander man entertaining a group of tourists. His hair was in dreadlocks, and he was playing a steel drum. Though the drum was fashioned from a beat-up oil barrel, the man made the instrument sing with a sweetly musical sound.

  “Let’s look at this crime from another angle,” Frank said. “Let’s go back to the night of the attempted murder. We found Chrissy right by the water, and she later said she had swum a long way. That means she was probably thrown off a boat. Right?”

  “Right,” Jamal said, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the steel drum. “But anybody can get hold of a boat around here—Montclare, Peg, anybody.”

  “And let’s not forget our theory about Isaac and Ishmael stealing treasure at night,” Joe said. “Maybe Chrissy went by the Destiny last night for some reason and caught them in the act. Isaac and Ishmael could have thrown her off the Destiny.”

  The boys fell silent a moment, each considering this last option. Joe watched the islander, who was now singing along with his drumming. Joe found the lyrics of the song strangely appropriate.

  “I knew this girl a little while,

  But then she had to go.

  East or west, I can’t say which,

  But, oh, I liked her so.”

  Joe pictured Chrissy in his mind. He saw her lying in the hospital bed with her long chestnut hair draped over the pillow. Then he found himself wondering where she was at the moment. Was she on the island? Was she far away? Was she still alive?

  Frank was having similar thoughts about Chrissy and feeling bad that he and Joe had not been able to crack the case yet. Who was after her? And why? And what happened to her the other night? Then he realized something.

  “You know,” Frank said. “Chrissy couldn’t have been thrown off the Destiny. The boat is anchored south of where we found her, and the current in the water runs southward. That means it would be impossible for Chrissy to have ended up where we found her. If she was thrown off a boat, and she probably was, it must have been another boat.”

  “Good point,” Joe said. “All the same, I’d like to know if Isaac and Ishmael are stealing treasure. If they are, we should definitely find a way to investigate them further. Maybe they’ve even got a racket going with Peg.”

  “Here’s an idea,” Jamal said. “The weather seems to have cleared up. Why don’t I pick up my uncle’s plane and we can fly over the Destiny tonight? If Isaac and Ishmael are diving for treasure at night, they’ll need to have lights in the water. We should be able to spot the lights from the air. What do you say?”

  “I say you’re an awfully handy fellow to have around, Jamal,” Frank said. “Let’s do it.”

  The boys drove to the southern tip of the island, where the airport was located. Jamal filed a flight plan and carefully checked the Cessna-172 plane that belonged to his uncle. Moments later he expertly guided the plane into the sky. The boys wore headsets with microphones so they could communicate over the engine noise. Lights twinkled around the perimeter of the island, most of the hotels and larger villages being near the shore.

  Soon the plane was droning over the dark and peaceful Caribbean Sea. Seated next to Jamal, Frank was drawing lines on the map as he continually checked the plane’s compass. Through a cloud, Joe glimpsed the ghostlike outline of a crescent moon. “Are we close to the ship?” Joe asked from the backseat.

  “In less than a minute,” Frank spoke into his mike, “we should be right over the Destiny.”

  A minute passed, but the boys saw no sign of the Destiny at the dive site. There was nothing beneath the plane’s wings but the dark expanse of sea. Jamal flew the Cessna up and down the general area in case Frank’s calculations had been slightly off.

  “There’s nothing down there but water and more water,” Jamal told Frank after several minutes of reconnaissance. “Your navigation may have been a little faulty, but we’ve combed the entire southern section of the reef.”

  “This is very puzzling,” Frank said, rubbing his forehead. “Let’s go back to my first guess.”

  Jamal banked the plane and circled back to the site where Frank originally thought the Destiny should have been located. This time Jamal flew the plane lower and switched on the landing lights. The boys carefully watched the water, which was now illuminated by a strong beam of light coming from the Cessna.

  “Look to the right!” Joe called, peering out his window.

  Frank looked down and spotted a bright orange plastic buoy floating in the water, and he noticed there was a black skull and crossbones painted on it. “That should be the right spot,” Frank said, glancing at his map. “Maybe Flask moved the boat and left the buoy as a marker.”

  “I seriously doubt it,” Joe said. “Flask told us the Destiny always stays on the treasure site. He knows if he moves the boat, there’s a chance someone will come in at night and raid the place.”

  “Then what could have happened to the boat?” Jamal asked, banking the plane to circle back.

  “Maybe the ghost of Rebecca took it,” Joe joked, tilting sideways with the banking plane.

  “I might agree with you,” Jamal said as he leveled the plane, “except she wouldn’t have left a buoy to mark the spot, would she?”

  “I’m afraid we’re faced with only one conclusion,” Frank said thoughtfully. “Someone has stolen, or at least borrowed, the Destiny.”

  “Who would do that?” Joe asked.

  “I don’t know,” Frank said, looking at the black skull and crossbones on the buoy. “But I’ve got a feeling these waters hold a lot of secrets.”

  11 Something Fishy

  * * *

  “Why don’t I fly around, and maybe we’ll spot the Destiny somewhere else,” Jamal said.

  “Just don’t try any more of those fancy acrobatics,” Joe said. “My stomach is still pretty full from dinner.”

  “I won’t, Ace,” Jamal promised.

  As Jamal flew the plane north, Joe spotted a luxury yacht on the water. “Sometimes I think it would be nice to be rich,” he said, watching a group of people partying on the deck.

  “Rich people have problems, too,” Frank said, studying his map. “Look at Pierre Montclare.”

  “You mean the banana man?” Jamal said humorously.

  After seeing the yacht the boys saw no other vessels on the water for a while. On the map Frank saw the southern section of Skeleton Reef, where the Destiny was supposed to be anchored. There was a gap between the southern and northern sections of the reef.

  “Take a look at two o’clock,” Joe said as the plane flew above the northern section.

  Up ahead, slightly to the right, Frank spotted a vessel that resembled the Destiny. As the plane flew closer, he glimpsed a Jolly Roger flag on the masthead. “Bingo,” Frank said. “That’s her.”

  Near the port side of the boat, Joe saw a dim glow of light in the darkened sea. “I think that’s a diving light in the water,” he said as the Cessna passed over the top of the Destiny. “Do you see anyone on deck?”

  “Not yet,” Frank answered.

  “I’ll take us back around,” Jamal said. “Look hard, though, because I don’t want to turn the landing lights on. No point in giving ourselves away.”

  Jamal flew the Cessna in a wide, easy circle over the Destiny. Watching closely through the window, Frank saw two muscular men sitting on the Destiny’s top deck. “Yup, that’s definitely Isaac and Ishmael down there,” Frank said.

  “Do you think they’re the ones doing the diving?” Jamal asked.

  “I doubt it,” Frank said, his head pressed against his window. “The lights are still in the water, but Isaac and Ishmael aren’t wearing any scuba gear. They seem to be just hanging out. I would guess there are one or more other people in the water right now.”

  “I wonder who,” Joe said.

  “That’s just one more underwater secret,” Frank said. “Jamal, make another circle. I want to see if anyone else is anywhere on deck.”

  “I’ll fly a bit lower,” Jamal said. “Maybe they’ll think we’re just interested in getting a look at the boat with the nifty pirate flag.”

  As Jamal continued banking the plane in a wide circle, he angled down to a slightly lower altitude. Frank scanned the entire Destiny in search of somebody new but saw no other people above decks. Then, as Frank’s eyes roamed back over the top deck, he saw that Isaac and Ishmael were aiming rifles at the Cessna.

  “Jamal, watch it!” Frank exclaimed. “They’re pointing rifles at us!”

  Two gunshots pierced the peaceful night.

  Jamal spun the wheel, banking the plane until it was almost flying on its side.

  “What are you doing?” Joe shouted, slamming against the side of the cabin.

  “He’s narrowing their target,” Frank said. “If a bullet hits us in the wrong place, we could be in big trouble.”

  Two more shots exploded. Joe winced when he heard a bullet ching against the wing beneath him.

  “I think one hit the port wing!” he shouted.

  “That should be okay,” Jamal said. “Hang on!” He quickly leveled out the plane, but just as Frank and Joe returned to normal positions, Jamal pulled back on the wheel and sent the plane angling steeply upward. Joe felt his stomach doing a back-flip as the plane swiftly ascended.

  “You can relax now,” Jamal said as he leveled the plane again. “We’re out of gunshot range.”

  “Well, we got some acrobatics after all;” Joe said as his stomach slowly settled.

  “They must have suspected we were snooping on them,” Jamal said, flying the plane away from the Destiny. “Fortunately they have no way of knowing who was in the plane.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Frank told the others. “One of the people on or under the Destiny might be the person who sent us the black spot a few hours ago. He might be keeping track of our every move.”.

  “There’s something fishy going on down there,” Joe said, looking back at the distant spot where the water faintly glowed.

  “Fishy is right,” Frank said. “But what is it?”

  “For some reason,” Jamal said as he veered the plane eastward, “some people are moving the Destiny to the northern section of Skeleton Reef. And they’re diving there. Why? For recreation? Doubtful. They’re probably looking for something on that part of the reef.”

  “Remember when we met Ted last night?” Joe said. “He mentioned there were plenty of wrecks out here. Maybe there’s another pirate ship down below. Or maybe another kind of boat sank with valuable cargo. And from what I understand, you need government permission to go digging in the reef. So whoever is diving off the Destiny right now may actually be committing a crime.”

  “If something illegal is going on down there, and Chrissy found out about it . . . ” Frank paused, then said excitedly, “Wait. If last night the Destiny was where we just saw it, Chrissy could have been thrown off the ship and ended up where we found her. The Destiny is now north of where Chrissy washed up, and, as I said earlier, the current runs southward. This is all hypothetical, of course, but it’s food for thought.”

  “Yes, it is,” Joe remarked. “Real fishy food.”

  Minutes later Jamal glided in for a landing at the airport. After touching down, he taxied the Cessna from the runway to a concrete strip where most of the lightplanes were parked. Several metal airplane hangars stood on one side of the strip, and a forest of green vegetation loomed on the other side.

  The boys climbed from the Cessna, and Joe noticed the only people in the area were two men standing by a deluxe lightplane parked at the opposite end of the strip. Something about one of the men caught Joe’s eye. “Hey,” he told Frank, “isn’t that Sandy Flask over there?”

  “It sure is,” Frank said.

  Frank, Joe, and Jamal watched the two men a few moments. Flask was talking with a silver-haired man in a navy blazer and white pants. The captain opened a battered suitcase and pulled out several clear plastic bags. Flask opened one of the bags and lifted a small object out of it. The object glittered in a spill of light cast by an overhead lamppost.

  “That’s gold!” Jamal exclaimed. “Nothing else catches the light that way. Could that be something from the Laughing Moon site?”

  “It shouldn’t be,” Frank said. “Flask isn’t allowed to take anything found on the site. The archaeologist is supposed to be in charge of everything.”

  “That didn’t stop Peg Riley,” Joe said. “Come on. I want a closer look.”

  Joe led Frank and Jamal into the dense region of trees and shrubbery just beyond the concrete. Camouflaged by the greenery, the boys walked a short distance, then hid in the trees not far from where Flask and the man were standing.

  Flask was pulling objects from the bags and laying them on the airplane wing. Joe saw gold and silver coins, gold ingots, fragments of a teapot, an antiquated pistol, balls of lead, a gold chain with a dragon medallion. “Whoa,” Joe whispered. “Some of that stuff is what I saw Peg Riley burying tonight.”

  “Why would Flask have it?” Frank asked.

  “Maybe Peg was stealing the booty for him,” Joe said. “Maybe Flask doesn’t want to play by the government’s rules and wait several years before any of the relics can be sold. After all, he’s already poured four years of his life into finding the Laughing Moon site. And maybe he’s not too thrilled about getting only twenty percent of the profits.”

  “Do you really think he would steal from his own expedition?” Frank asked, keeping his eyes on the pirate treasures. The man with silver hair was examining them, obviously impressed.

  “Just because he’s a captain doesn’t mean he can’t be greedy,” Joe said. “In fact, he probably feels he has more right to those relics than anybody.”

  “And you said the guy is obsessed with pirates,” Jamal said. “Maybe the old geezer is something of a pirate himself. You know, he kind of looks like one.”

  “Or maybe we’re jumping to some big conclusions here,” Frank said.

  Flask turned suddenly and looked right in the direction where Jamal and the Hardys were hiding.

  “Shhh,” Jamal said. “Nobody move.”

  “We’re not,” Frank whispered back.

  Flask was scanning the greenery as if searching for an enemy ship on the horizon, and Frank had a feeling that Flask’s experienced eyes never missed a trick. “Peekaboo, I see you,” Flask called after a few moments. “Now, why don’t you fellows come out of there? Whoever you are.”

  “Stay,” Joe whispered to his companions. “If he wants to come for us, let him. We’ve got him outnumbered.”

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me,” Flask called again. “Maybe I need to speak a little louder.” Flask reached around to the back of his pants and pulled out a small automatic pistol. “Now step on out of there, you rascals,” Flask ordered. “Immediately!”