Message in a Bottle

And it became clear to me that it would have been better if the bottle had been found in the United Kingdom and the weekend following my arrival back in the UK I drove to the coast and visited a beach where I could say I found the bottle. I did not want complications arising from the Government of Antigua and Barbuda claiming ownership.

Meanwhile I placed the jewels in the wall-safe of my home in Virginia Water.

A day later I sought legal advice from my solicitor friend David. I told him only of the existence of one jewel and that I had found the bottle on a beach near Brighton. I wanted advice regarding payment of inheritance tax due on the sale of the jewel and he told me that if Victoria Jamieson was living in the United States no payment would be due in the UK. Furthermore her diary was, in his opinion, in the form of a dying declaration since she believed her death to be imminent and her bequest was therefore a valid legal document. The problem might be if her husband had reported the jewel stolen since there could then be a legal tug of war over ownership between their respective heirs. With this in mind it was important to find out more about George Jamieson and I hired an American Private investigator to complete this for me. and just a week later a report was emailed to me.

"Mr George Jamieson was an infamous and extremely wealthy jewel dealer and suspected fence operating in New York City between 1905 and 1920. He married an English woman called Victoria White in June 1912, but she disappeared on the 1st of May 1915, and he was suspected of being complicit in her disappearance. Their housekeeper reported he was a violent man, but nothing could be proved. He claimed that he last saw his wife on the morning of the day of her disappearance and spent his time that day at work and the following evening and night with his mistress. He never reported the loss of any jewel that might have been "stolen" by his wife.

In August 1920 he was gunned down by persons unknown and the contents of his safe stolen. In conclusion there is no evidence that the Jewel Mrs Victoria Aston Jamieson was carrying was not her own to dispose of as she wished."

Whilst I had been waiting for the report to arrive I had not been idle, and I had taken one of the stones to a highly reputable London Jewellery auction house for valuation. I was flabbergasted when I was told that it was a 12 carat Burmese pigeon blood ruby with no evidence of heat treatment (whatever that meant) worth at least half a million pounds. Simple arithmetic implied the stones in total might be worth in excess of ten million pounds.

When in London I had visited Charing Cross Road with its plethora of book shops and had found four different books describing the Lusitania's final voyage. I started to read one of these on my train journey home.

I had also searched the records for a Victoria White, Jamieson, or Latham on the passenger manifest but there was no mention, and neither was she listed as a survivor, so I concluded that she had indeed died. It appeared that the booking clerk she had bribed had either ensured she was not listed as being onboard when the ship sailed or had listed her under a completely alias.

Interestingly the Jeffersons were listed on the passenger manifest and George survived although the bodies of his parents were never found.

Finding out who the rubies belonged to was surprisingly straightforward. Victoria's brothers both died in Flanders having never married. Her sister Emily, who married in 1920 had two sons Thomas and David although only David survived the Second World War and Thomas fathered no children. In 1960 David married and had a single child. She was a daughter called June who was born in 1962, and married in her turn in 1988, and had a single daughter called Victoria who was born in 1990. Tragically David and his wife and June and her husband were killed in a car accident in 1990 leaving Victoria an orphan and the sole surviving heir to her great-grandaunts fortune. All of this was learned by examination of the online registry office records.

I was now left with a name Victoria Alton and a date of birth. A search of Face Book and a Whitepages directory did not do the trick, so I hired a professional people finding agency to do the job for me and within ten days I had an address and a telephone number with the additional information that she was divorced with no children and worked as a schoolteacher in an infant's school. Victoria had been adopted as a baby and her surname changed to Talbot.

She now lived and worked in Liverpool.

I rang Victoria mid evening and she picked up on the third ring. I briefly explained to her who I was and that I believed she might be the heir to a considerable sum of money, and she was understandably very sceptical.

"Is this some kind of scam or con?," she asked.

"Far from it. Would you be happy to meet me at a pub or somewhere public and I can show you why I think you should inherit this money?, " I asked.

And then I added, "I can meet you in Liverpool.You have nothing to lose."

***

Two days later in the middle of May I drove up to Liverpool and checked in to the Marriott Hotel in the city centre. I had brought with me the text of Victoria's diary, a copy of the handwritten document, copies of the ships manifest, lists of survivors, assorted reports, and the birth and death certificates proving young Victoria's right to her inheritance. I also brought the ruby I had had valued. All of these were safely locked in the hotel room-safe before I had lunch.

After lunch I had a few hours to kill. I had arranged to meet Victoria at the Philharmonic Pub near to the Liverpool University campus at six o'clock that evening and that was several hours away. I had already made up my mind what I wanted to see, and I set out by foot to the Pier Head where I stood looking across the River Mersey towards Birkenhead on the far side. Behind me in a row stood the Three Graces, The Royal Liver Building (pronounced Live-er), The Cunard Building, and The Port of Liverpool Building. These three buildings had stood on the river front for almost a century when I stood looking up at them on that Spring afternoon. Astride the Liver Building stood the two mythical liver birds the symbol of the city and of Liverpool Football Club.

The first of the two places I had come to visit was a few yards to the north of the Liver Building. It was a granite obelisk pockmarked by shrapnel from bombs dropped during the Second World War and with two of the sides having life sized figures carved into them. These originally represented the thirty two stokers and engineers who died aboard the Titanic but was later dedicated to all maritime engine room deaths. This was the Heroes of the Marine Engine Room Memorial formerly the Titanic Memorial.

Next I walked south along the waterfront passing the Cunard building on the right. This was originally the Cunard passenger terminal from which the Lusitania might have sailed if it had not been sunk. This building was completed in 1917. It was in the process of construction at the time of the Lusitania tragedy.

After a short stroll of perhaps a quarter mile I found what I was looking for. Sitting on the quay was one of the four propellors from the RMS Lusitania. The massive four bladed propellor was from the port side of the ship and had been salvaged from the wreck in 1982.

I don't know how long I stood in front of it as my thoughts turned to Victoria White, The Jeffersons, Alfred Vanderbilt and the 1200 souls lost at sea all those years before. And then I said a silent prayer for them all before heading back to my hotel.

I showered and had a change of clothes before setting off for our rendezvous at the Philharmonic Dining rooms which was about a 20 minute walk away. I took all of the documents with me in a briefcase but left the jewel in the room safe.

***

I arrived at The Philharmonic about a quarter to six and ordered myself a pint of bitter. There was a lone barman working and I told him that a young lady I didn't know would come in at around six and ask for me, and I asked him If he would point me out. Then I sat where I could see the door and the bar and waited. The pub was only moderately busy with a few people having an after work drink when promptly at six o'clock a tall, attractive, brown haired young lady entered the bar. She ordered herself a drink and spoke briefly to the barman who pointed in my direction before losing interest and turning to serve another customer.

She crossed the room towards me.

"Miss Talbot?"

"Victoria," she replied.

"I'm Jeremy Dillon, Please call me Jeremy. Take a seat. I'm very pleased to meet you. You took a little bit of finding. I'm sorry to have to ask but can I see the passport that I asked you to bring. Please don't be offended. I have to be sure you are who you say you are. And here's mine."

I gave her my passport and business card and she fumbled in her handbag and handed me a pristine new passport. The details inside confirmed what I already knew which included her name and date and place of birth.

And then I outlined to her how I came to be in Barbuda and the discovery of the bottle and the diary and the jewels inside, and how it was almost certain that the Jewels were her property since she was the only surviving relative of Victoria White.

"I have copies of the original handwritten diary in my possession this evening, but It will be easier for you to read the typewritten transcript I have here. For the time being I recommend you read pages one to five and then skip to page ten. The reason will be obvious when you get there."

Up to this point I sensed that Victoria was curious, but wary and unconvinced. After all "if something seems too good to be true then it probably is." and she was a member of a family that appeared to have been cursed by bad luck.

She took the typewritten sheets and started to read whilst I silently looked on and sipped my pint of bitter. She read with a look of intense concentration until she suddenly looked up and said,

"Hot stuff by any standards. I see what you mean."

Then she shuffled the sheets and moved onto the entry dated the 5^th of May and read on. As she read her expression changed to one of what I thought might be quiet hope that all of this might be true. When she got to the end of the document she looked up wistfully.

"How sad."

And I nodded.

More business like I continued. "I can give you that transcript and a copy of the message that was in the bottle. I also have legal opinion regarding your claim to the jewel{s) that were in the bottle including Victoria' right of ownership to them and the fact that no inheritance tax is due. I also have all the relevant birth and death certificates. I can give you duplicates today and forward everything by e mail to you. It will make your life so much easier. And one last very important thing. Although that bottle was found in Barbuda I am reporting that I found it near Brighton. I don't imagine you want the complication of having to haggle with the Antiguan Government over the ownership of your property do you? Lastly I have brought one of the rubies with me today. It is very valuable, so I have left it in the safe back at the hotel."

Victoria gave me a long hard look across the table.

"Even if this is true, what's in it for you? Do you expect a reward.? I'm not very rich."

"But you will be. I don't want any reward. I have enough money of my own and don't need any of yours. When I found Victoria's message I felt she was speaking to me across the years and there was an obligation to trace her heir or heirs. That was effectively her dying wish. I'm sure her wealth should be yours but before I start to give you some idea of the amount of money involved I would like you to see the ruby I have had valued. And if you don't want her estate you can give it away to charity. I'm staying at the Marriott. We can walk or take a taxi. "

"Let's walk."

It was just after seven o'clock when we walked into the Marriott Lobby and then found the lounge bar. I ordered Victoria a gin and tonic and another pint for myself, and we found a secluded table in the corner of the room. Whilst she sipped nervously at her drink I went to my room to fetch the stone. Back at the bar I handed her the ruby wrapped in a white handkerchief.

"Open it in your lap. Don't let anybody see it. When you've seen enough hand it back to me and I'll take it back to the room and then we'll talk."

"OK. But why the secrecy."

"It's very valuable," Is all I said.

A short while later I returned the stone safely to my room safe and returned to the bar.

"It's beautiful," she said.

"Here's the valuation. You can check the validity by telephoning the auctioneers tomorrow. And there are twenty other stones that are all a little bigger or smaller than this one."

Victoria took the valuation and as she read it her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and finally she spoke.

"Oh fuck!"

And she started to shake.

I just sat there and waited for her to calm down and when she had stopped shaking and gathered her thoughts she spoke again,

"I need a drink. A double please."

***

At eight o'clock the following morning I was wakened by the ringing of the telephone.

"Good morning. Its Victoria. I hope I haven't woken you."

"I get up early," I lied.

"I'm sorry if I was suspicious of you last night. Can I make it up to you and buy you lunch? It's not every day that a stranger walks into their lives and tells them they've won a lottery when they weren't aware that they had a ticket."

"Of course," I replied. "It would be my pleasure."

"I'll see you at 12.30 then," she said, and the phone went dead.

I was only too happy to have lunch with her. There were details regarding her inheritance that needing ironing out and she was so very pretty.

At half past twelve precisely Victoria entered the lobby of the hotel. I was struck once again by her beauty; long brown hair, green eyes, and a figure to die for.

I had two thoughts. The first was that no teacher of mine ever looked like her and the second that she was probably now so rich that she was out of my class.

That day she was so different from the suspicious young lady I had met the evening before, and I knew that she believed me and what I had told her. Over lunch she confided in me that she had spoken to the auction house, my lawyer, and even my publishing house.

"Your secretary said you were away on business in Liverpool."

"So now what," I asked.

"Pleasure before business," she replied.

Over lunch I got to learn a little more about her. Her foster parents lived on the Wirral, and she had been brought up there. She loved Liverpool and was an avid Liverpool supporter and lived alone in a small house in Anfield following a messy divorce from a violent husband. Fortunately, she had no children although she loved teaching the reception class in a local school. And she let it slip she had no significant other and I did the same, and she smiled.

"Jeremy.. I'm scared. Last night when I got home I almost hoped that this was a hoax. Before yesterday evening I had my contented humdrum life and then you turned up and turned everything upside down. And now I'm scared of having so much money that I won't know what to do with it. I know it's going to change my life for ever. How can I carry on teaching when I have millions in the bank? I thought to myself why is he so damn honest. You could have kept it for yourself, and nobody would have known."

"But I would have," I replied.

Over coffee we discussed next steps. I advised her to engage a solicitor to act on her behalf and asked her how she would like to receive the rubies.

"They are safer with you for now," she said.

"But I suppose I will need to sell them. They might be safer at an auction house for safe keeping."

Then she paused and took a deep breath before she spoke again.

"You've already done so much for me, but can I impose a little further. I'd like you to help me with the sale. I've no one I can trust to do this. My parents are simple folk and wouldn't know where to start. I would offer to pay you, but I think I know what you would say."

"You know I'll help. Can you take some time off work and come to London? And we can start the ball rolling. I'd like the jewels off my hands, and we can take them to an auctioneers together. You can stay at my house if you'd like. I have a spare room. If you prefer there's a good hotel close by. Its Tuesday today. We can take the jewels to London on Thursday. I'll make an appointment if you like."

***

I returned home later that day. Victoria spoke to her head teacher and was able to travel to Virginia Water the following day. I picked her up at the station in the mid-afternoon and took her to Great Fosters Hotel where I had booked her in until the following Sunday morning. Whilst I waited in the bar she checked in, showered, and changed clothes, and then we returned home for her to finally see her inheritance.

She sat in my lounge whilst I fetched the jewels and a large gin and tonic. Then I placed the rubies one by one in front of her. She silently watched me count them out and then softly spoke.

"Oh fuck!"

We took the Jewels to town the following morning and it was with some relief that I left them with the auctioneers. We were informed that once it was established that they were Victoria's to sell the best way forward was by public auction. In the meantime all we could do was wait.

That evening we went for dinner together and then afterwards walked in the hotel gardens when Victoria took my hand in hers. A little later we kissed for the first time and the following morning she booked out of the hotel and came to stay with me. The next two days we spent a great deal of the time in bed. In between we went for walks, visited the pub, or ate out at restaurants. On Sunday Victoria returned to Liverpool but with the promise to return the following weekend and to resign from her job at the end of the Summer term in July.

In late July 2015 Victoria came to live with me.

***

The months rolled by, and Victoria's ownership of the jewels was established. Extensive enquiries in New York established that George Jamieson had no heirs and went to his grave unloved and unmourned. There was no record of his birth in the United States or immigration from Europe and no living relatives who might lay claim to the rubies could be found. It was possible that George Jamieson was an alias. The rubies may or may not have been stolen by Victoria from George, but she was his wife and had legal claim to shared property. How the stones came into the possession of Victoria would never be known.

All of this made for a great story and the auction of the twenty one Burmese pigeon blood rubies was well publicised and the story of the Lusitania widely retold. Many rumours circulated regarding the details of Victoria's last message, and we were offered a large amount of money to publish its contents. Needless to say we refused.

In June 2016 over a year since I found the bottle the auction was held. Victoria and I sat at the room as the first lot went under the hammer. It was the stone originally estimated at half a million pounds plus and the hammer came down at two million dollars. And so it went on. Each lot more eagerly bid on than the next until finally a perfect eight carat square cut stone sold for fourteen million dollars.

As Victoria sat in stunned silence I had kept a note of the winning bids and, after factoring in sellers fees, I whispered in her ear.

I reckon you're about fifty million dollars or maybe forty million pounds richer.

She very softly whispered, "Oh fuck."

***