Lawrence Looks for Treasure

Part 2 - Chapter 8

8

We watched the slippers stride through the doorway, this time accompanied by pointy, brown loafers.

'This way, Mayor,' said the slippers. The loafers shuffled to the couch by the window. The slippers shuffled after.

'As I was saying, the only safe way to do it is with 50 officers. . .' the slippers began.

'Alright, Lafonte,' the loafers interrupted. 'Don't screw me around. What did Tessio find? Tell me, ya understand?'

'I ... I really cannot.'

'Wasting my time,' muttered the loafers. 'Call me when you really need my help.' And they filed out the door.

'Wait,' the slippers called.

The loafers returned.

'You can't profit by it.' said the slippers. 'Not yet anyway.'

'Lafonte, you insult me. Now I'll say it once more. What'd Tessio find? I can judge for myself if . . . any benefit . . . may arise.'

'Okay.' The slippers began. 'I will tell you.'

The loafers walked to the window, and waited silently.

'Do you remember Tessio's first discovery?' The slippers continued.

'Refresh my memory,' said the loafers.

'On the eve of war, an Aztec emperor hid his greatest treasures across the Americas. He died the following day, and his treasures were forgotten, lost for centuries. Dr. Tessio recovered one of these treasures decades ago in Texas. She's now found another, near Kinnard, no less.'

'What did she find?' The loafers asked.

'Gold ore. The Aztecs dug for gold like we dig for oil. In one mine, they found two enormous nuggets. Pure gold. four feet wide, three feet high. These were the biggest nuggets the empire had ever mined, perhaps the biggest anyone has ever mined.'

'The emperor sent these artifacts North with a small Iroquois band. But by the time the English colonized Canada, the band had died out. Perhaps by war, perhaps disease—I don't know. Either way, the nuggets were gone. Tessio has recovered one, in Terryville. She's still searching for the second.'

'How much are they worth?' the mayor asked, crossing his loafers.

'Perhaps ten million each. The gold alone is worth two and a half. Their history multiplies the value, of course. We began negotiating the price with the Smithsonian, the British Museum and a few wealthy individuals.'

The mayor didn't speak. So Chris's dad continued.

'Now that I told you, may we please proceed with the matter? What kind of security detail can you provide?'

For a moment the mayor remained silent. Finally, he spoke: "Right, right—the security detail. Take note of this, Lafonte...'

'One moment then,' said the slippers, and he walked to the desk. 'Let me get my notepad.'

We watched in terror as the slippers shuffled to where we hid. Think of something, I told myself. But nothing came to mind. I just crouched, frozen, along with Matty and Chris.

Chris's dad opened the top drawer. His slippers slid under the desk, grazing Matty's leg. Thankfully, the desk chair blocked his view of us.

'Mind getting me a drink, too,' said the mayor.

'Certainly,' said Chris's dad, as he closed the top drawer. 'One moment, I can't seem to find my notepad.' Chris's dad bent down and opened the second drawer. His stubbled neck was an inch from my face.

'A scotch, if you have,' the mayor continued.

'Why not,' Chris's dad said. 'Come to the kitchen. There must a notepad there too.' He closed the second drawer and they both left the office. We snuck out after them, not daring to look back, and see if they noticed.

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