Peg Leg's Lost Treasure

"He's supposed to meet the guy again to get the map. Dalton, I was hoping you'd be able to get some surveillance pictures of the guy for me. Even with the eye patch, if he's a known con man, I might get a hit if I run him through facial recognition.

"Jack, I was hoping you'd be able to find out more on this gold mine. He called it Peg Leg Smith's lost gold. I tried looking it up on the web and it looks like a old legend, but there's very little information on it."

"Well, first off," said Jack, "most people believe the stories. It's not like the Lost Dutchmen's. No one's ever found any evidence that one really exists, but there have been others who have found gold in that same area that Peg Leg talked about."

That caught Dave's attention. "No kidding. So, you already know something about it?"

"Yeah, I don't know that much, but I know someone who will. Jerry Fender is a historian and an expert in the Old West. The paper uses him at times to verify old documents and things. This would be right up his alley."

"That'd be great, Jack, can you talk to him?"

"Yeah, he lives just outside of Denver, but I'll call him tomorrow."

Dave looked toward Dalton. "Old buddy, do you think you'd be able to get a couple of decent shots of the guy's face without him knowing about it?"

Dalton acted as if he took offense. "That's downright insulting, Dave. How many times have I taken surveillance photos for you? Have you ever had any complaints?"

"No, of course not, but Aaron said they met at some dingy neighborhood bar on the north side. They meet at night and I don't think you're going to have a lot of light."

Dalton was grinning. "This is perfect," he said. "Nikon has a camera designed specifically for low light photography. It's not really something I need; in fact, it's no good for the studio at all. Basically, it's designed for sports and photojournalism. You can take action shots at the bottom of a coal mine at midnight with this thing. It's not cheap, so I couldn't justify the cost for what would essentially be a plaything for me, but now I have a legitimate reason to buy it," he said, widening his grin.

"Oh, Dalton, don't go out and buy something expensive just for this. Don't you have a regular camera you can use?"

"Of course I do, but lighting is always a factor when doing surveillance work at night. With that camera, it'll be a piece of cake. Don't worry, Dave. I would have bought it anyway. Now I can do it without feeling guilty, that's all."

The three friends continued to talk through another round of beers. Dalton regaled his buddies with a couple stories regarding the new addition to his family, little Lorelai, the apple of his eye.

Before leaving they all went over the plan. Dave would inform Dalton where and when Aaron would meet the one-eyed stranger again, and Jack would call Jerry Fender and see how much information he could get on the gold mine.

The next morning, while Dalton stood in his favorite camera store, writing a company check for a little over five grand, Jack was making a call.

"Hi, Jerry, it's Jack Northrupe, how are you?

"Hi, Jack, I'm fine. How's yourself?"

"Excellent," he replied. "Listen, Jerry, I know someone who thinks he may have a map to Peg Leg's gold. If I sent it to you, could you authenticate it for me?"

Jerry chuckled. "Not really."

"You're kidding, how come?"

"Because there were a bunch of phonies drawn up during that time. Peg Leg was quite a character. Legend has it he cut off his own leg after it got infected from being shot with an arrow. He was a big liar and an even bigger horse thief, but he actually did find gold. There're assay records of it; problem was, he couldn't find it again. Word got out about his strike, though, so he drew up some phony maps and sold them for a pretty penny. He was even paid to lead a couple of expeditions out there. He made sure he got paid upfront, then he'd lead them pretty far into the desert and abandon them."

"Jesus, nice guy!"

"Yeah," Jerry replied with a chuckle. "Now, if your friend has one of his maps, I can verify it because we have samples of his handwriting, but others got in on the scam as well. No one truly knows for sure, but I wouldn't doubt if there weren't fifty or sixty of those bogus maps still floating around today. Thing is, the paper and the ink will be original from that period. That's why I said I can't really authenticate it. I can verify the age of the paper and the ink, but that doesn't mean the map is real. As far as I know, there aren't any authentic maps, just a lot of phonys."

"This one is supposedly drawn by some prospector that died. There's also a diary by some doctor that's supposed to confirm everything."

"Dr. DeCourcy?"

"I have no idea. Supposedly the guy that has it is a long lost relative of this doctor's."

"Well, to be honest, I haven't heard of any fake diaries by the doctor, but that doesn't mean there aren't any. Years after Peg Leg found it, an old prospector found it again. We know it was from the same area by the content of the ore. No one even knows the prospector's name because he was sick when he hit Los Angeles. He found Dr. DeCourcy, but he was too far gone to save. The doctor actually brought the gold into the assayer's office, saying the prospector gave it to him as payment. Of course, there was no one to dispute it, so he was able to keep it. It was about thirty-six hundred dollars; a small fortune in those days.

"Unfortunately, I don't know of any handwriting samples for him. If you want to send me the map and diary, I'll be happy to take a look at it, but as I said, all I can do is verify the age of the ink and the paper. I won't be able to tell you if it's the real McCoy or not."

"Okay, Jerry, thanks for being so honest. I'll tell this guy what you said and leave it up to him on what he wants to do."

"Good enough, Jack."

They hung up and Jack called Dave to go over Jerry's story with him. Dave, in turn, called his cousin and relayed everything to him.

By this time, Aaron was getting more and more excited over the prospect of finding another lost treasure. Hearing there were so many phony maps out there was disheartening.

He had never experienced a thrill like when he discovered the Devil's Mist off the coast of Saint Thomas in the Virgin Islands. A storm had uncovered it from a sandy grave where it had laid untouched for centuries. It was purely by luck that he had been scuba diving in that area on that day, but it turned into the adventure of a lifetime, not to mention riches beyond his wildest dreams. Now he had a chance to possibly do it again.

While the two were talking, Aaron decided he was at least going to arrange another meeting with the one-eyed John Smith and get the map and diary. Dave warned him not to give the guy any money. He said the guy might want some for security. Aaron agreed.

After calling the stranger, Aaron called Dave with the time and place of the meeting. He, in turn, called Dalton.

"I just looked it up, Dalton, it's a small neighborhood bar on Addison and Oak Park. I'm going to head on down there about an hour early and wait inside the bar. Would you be able to find a place to park and try to get some headshots of him going in and coming out?"

"Yeah, no problem, Dave."

"Does Tracy know what you're doing?"

"Of course, I don't keep anything from her. She's jealous. She wants to help," Dalton chuckled.

A few nights later, Dalton was parked on the side street overlooking Charlie's Club. Peeking out of the open rear window was his new camera equipped with the longest lens he had and zoomed all the way out to five-hundred millimeters. From that distance, he'd be able to get good head and shoulders shots. He knew Dave was already inside, but he wasn't sure about Aaron. In that neighborhood, only street parking was available, so he had to keep a keen eye open in case the subject walked passed him on the way in.

About twenty minutes early, a dark looking figure came limping around the corner, heading for the front door of the bar. Dalton looked through the eyepiece of his camera and started clicking away. He got a good look at the stranger's eyepatch when he looked around before going inside.

Once the guy disappeared behind the door, Dalton took a look at the back of his new camera. Damn, he said to himself, the pictures were sharp and clear as a bell. He readjusted himself to get a little more comfortable in the back seat and waited, but not for long. Only fifteen minutes had elapsed before the mysterious figure came back out. Again, Dalton started clicking away until his prey had disappeared around the corner again. Dalton quickly stuck his camera in the trunk and started in pursuit. His plan was to hopefully get the license number of the guy's car.

He crossed the street and let the guy get a reasonable distance ahead before starting his tail. After about a block he ducked behind a car when the stranger stopped to look around. Obviously feeling secure, the cagey character removed his eyepatch and continued to walk, minus the limp.

Dalton was getting nervous. He had followed his target for more than two blocks, had passed several empty parking spaces along the way, and they were still walking. He wondered if he was being set up or possibly lured into some kind of trap. He didn't want to stop, but he did put a little more distance between himself his tail.

Finally, almost six city blocks later, the man entered an apartment building. "Shit," Dalton cursed out loud. He still didn't have the guy's license number. Well, he did know where he lived. He'd just have to come in the morning and wait for the guy to go to work.

Dalton returned to the bar and found Dave sitting with another man who he presumed to be his cousin. After introducing the two men, Dave expressed his concern.

"Jesus, Dalton, you were gone a long time. We were getting worried. I was just about to go out and start looking for you. Did you get it?"

"I got the shots, yeah. That new camera is something else, but I didn't get his license," Dalton replied with obvious disappointment. "He lives in an apartment building about six blocks from here and walked all the way home."

"Shit," Dave commented.

"That's exactly what I said. I'll get up early and wait outside his place tomorrow morning. I'll get his plate number when he leaves for work."

Aaron couldn't believe he was getting so much help. Dave was his cousin, but they didn't really socialize all that much. They weren't what he'd call close. "I want to thank you guys for all this help. I wasn't expecting this. However this all turns out, when it's all over, I want all three of you guys to make me out a bill for all your work."

Dave and Dalton looked at each other. Dalton spoke for both of them. "Aaron, you should know that Dave, Jack, and I have been friends for many, many years. We have helped each other out of more scrapes than we can count. It's what friends do. Don't worry about paying us. We enjoy doing it."

"Well, Dave told me you bought an expensive camera just to take the pictures. At least let me pay for that."

"If you paid for it, I'd have to give it to you, and I'm having way too much fun with it," he said with a grin.

"No, no, I didn't mean..." Aaron started to respond before Dalton cut him off.

"Aaron, don't worry about it, it's deductible. We'll all let you take us and our wives out to dinner when it's all over, how's that?"

Aaron didn't think that was nearly enough, but he agreed.

The following morning, Dalton was parked just down the street from the apartment building, camera in hand. About seven-thirty, he got several good pictures of his target without the eyepatch, but had to alter his plans from there. As soon as he got back to his studio, he emailed the head shots to Dave. He ran them through facial recognition but got no hits.

That evening, all four of them met at Plato's Place. Dave introduced Aaron and Jack, but everyone was more interested in what Dalton had discovered.

He took several color eight by tens from a large manila envelope and pushed a couple in front of Aaron. "This is him in a suit and tie, minus the eyepatch. It looks like he may have been wearing a wig last night, too. His hair is cropped pretty short, here."

Aaron agreed. "Yeah, his hair was quite a bit longer than that and flopped down in front of his forehead." He studied the photo a little closer. "You know, he looks vaguely familiar, but I can't say for sure."

"Well," Dalton continued, "evidently the guy doesn't have a car. He had a cab waiting when he came out of his building. I followed him here," he explained as he took a couple more photos out. "I assume it's where the guy works."

Everyone saw the color drain from Aaron's face when he saw the next couple of pictures. Dave reached over and pulled the photos closer to take a look. "Isn't that where Brenda works?"

"Who's Brenda," Jack asked.

"His wife," Dave responded.

From the looks on their faces, Aaron knew what all three were thinking. "There're more business in that building besides the insurance agency. Just because this guy works in the same building doesn't mean anything. They probably don't even know each other, or maybe she's been bragging about being rich and this guy wants some of it."

"You're probably right, Aaron, but just in case I wouldn't say anything to Brenda," remarked Dave. "Does she know about all this?"

"I mentioned it that night when the guy first approached me but she didn't show much interest and hasn't said anything about it since," he replied.

"Well, at least for now, if she asks you about it, just say you still have some questions and leave it at that."

"So where do we go from here," Aaron asked.

Jack answered. "Well, do you have the map and that diary on you?"

"Oh yeah, here you go," Aaron said as he pulled the two items from his inside pocket."

"Okay, tomorrow I'll send these to Jerry by currier. Let's see what he has to say before we make our next move."

They all agreed while finishing their beers. Aaron took off right afterward. Dave, Jack, and Dalton ordered another round so they could talk further.

"Do you guys think this could just be a big ruse to get him out of town so this guy and his wife could have a fling?" Dave asked.

"If they're not already having one," Dalton commented.

Jack was still thinking. "I don't know. It sure seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a couple weeks of bumping and grinding."

"I know," Dave agreed, "but so far the guy hasn't asked for a penny. It sure seems like his main goal is to get Aaron out of town."

"Maybe she's planning to draw out what she can from the bank and take off with this guy, figuring they'll have a two week headstart by the time Aaron gets back," offered Dalton.

"That sounds more likely," agreed Jack.

"That place isn't all that far from my studio. I can run by there around noon a few times and see if I can catch the two together," volunteered Dalton. "If they are having an affair, I doubt they'd let lunch hours go to waste." On that note, they finished their beers and headed home.

The very next day, Dalton spotted his suspect leaving work around noon and tailed him to a small restaurant about a mile away. He followed him inside and sat at the counter. His target sat at a small table just a few feet away. Dalton noticed the waitress left two menus. A couple minutes later, he saw a pretty woman in her thirties, enter the restaurant. She walked straight up to the table and bent down for a kiss before sitting. Unfortunately, Dalton wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying. He ordered coffee and sat trying to observe their body language. After seeing enough, he paid his check and went back to his car to lay in wait with his camera.

Jack had plans for that evening, so it was a couple of nights before all four to get together again. Aaron got nervous when he saw Dalton sit down with another manila envelope. He removed the first picture showing a woman and their guy simply walking out of the restaurant together. "Is this your wife?" he asked Aaron.

Aaron looked at the platonic photo. "Yes, that's her, but this doesn't prove any..."

"I'm sorry," Dalton said in a sad voice as he passed the second shot over.

Aaron looked at the photo of his wife passionately kissing the other man. He wiped away some welled up tears from his eyes and pushed the two pictures back toward Dalton.

"Son of a bitch," he softly cried. "I had no idea."

Dalton was the only one there who could empathize. "I'm really sorry, Aaron. It happened to me once. I know how much it hurts."

A blanket of gloom covered the table. They could see the pain in Aaron's face. They all took a couple sips from their beers without a word being spoken. Dave was the first to break the silence as he looked over at Jack.

"Have you heard anything from Jerry?"

"Yeah," Jack replied. "It's just like he said over the phone. The paper and ink are from that time period, but as far as he knows there are no handwriting samples of either the old prospector's or the doctor's, so there's no way to authenticate anything."

"Come on, guys, with what we know now, there's no way that map is real anyway," Dalton said, stating the obvious. "You guys really think that jackass would be trying to pawn it off, if it was real?"

"Kill joy," laughed Dave. Everyone had a chuckle before Dave got more serious. "Aaron, originally we thought they were trying to get you out of town for two or three weeks so they could be together with no worries of getting caught," he started reluctantly. "But, well, Jack thinks there's more to it than that, and I think he has a point."

"What do you mean?" Aaron cautiously asked.

"The wig, the eyepatch, the map, it's all just too damned elaborate," Jack confirmed.

Dave chimed in again. "Aaron, how much money could Brenda get her hands on?"

Aaron had to think for a few seconds. "Ah, I don't know, maybe twenty grand, no more than thirty."

"That's it? Are you sure? Isn't there some way she could clean you out if she really wanted... maybe by forging your signature?"

"No, not at all. Everything we have is locked up in securities and a trust I set up. I deal with one guy: my broker. He knows my signature inside and out and would never release funds without hearing from me, personally."

All three looked at each other. "How well do you know this broker?"

"I've known him since we were kids. There's no way he'd screw me if that's what you're thinking."

"There's got to be more to it," Jack reiterated.

"Jack, what else could it be? They want him out of town so they can have two or three weeks together, it's the only thing that makes sense," Dave responded.

"He's not convinced," Dalton said with a smile. Everyone saw Jack was deep in thought. He finally looked over to Dalton.

"Would you be available tomorrow or the next day between noon and one?"

"Ah," Dalton thought for just a second, "not tomorrow, I have an all-day shoot. I'd be free for a while on Friday though. What do you have in mind?"

"We need to change tactics," he said. "We need to give the two lovers something to talk about at lunch. Dalton, I need you outside with my laptop so I can bug their table."

Dave comically stuck his fingers in his ears. "I didn't hear that," he joked.

"How are you going to bug their table?" Aaron asked. He was new to the group and had no idea he was dealing with a twenty-five-year veteran investigative reporter who had been responsible for busting numerous crimes wide open.

"I have my ways," is all he said in response. He looked back at Dalton again. "You and I will need to meet early so I can show you how to use the software on my laptop. Not only does it record audio of their conversation, but it'll use voice recognition to write a complete transcript with a time and date stamp. We just have to set it up for two subjects so it knows how to distinguish the voices."