After they returned the rental car, they took a bus to the Best Western near the Daniel K. Inouye International Airport. They figured they had less than 12 hours before they became suspects number one and two and the museum, and the police, turned their focus fully on them. They wanted to be clear off the island long before then.

Experience taught them to always travel light, usually carrying a duffel bag each, and they decided before taking the letter to pack everything they could and have it ready in the car. Now, in their hotel room, Nate showered and changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and top. Sully was in his customary Havana shirt and cargo pants and was sitting at the round table, lamp on, laptop in front of him and his leg bouncing in a sign that he was clearly impatient.

"Hurry up, Nate" he grumbled.

Nate tossed the towel he was using to dry his hair on the bed and said, "Alright, alright. Calm your horses."

From the table his phone rumbled.

"Mia again?" Sully asked.

Picking up the phone he pressed decline, "Yeah."

She has been ringing and texting constantly over the past hour.

"You're going to have to reply to her, at least give some excuse to keep the heat off us."

"I will," he said, though he didn't know what to say that wouldn't come across as either lame or guilty. Finally, he opened the messages app and typed and then put the phone down.

"What did you say?" Sully asked.

"'Sorry, my phone died. I left early'." he said and took a seat opposite his friend. He produced both envelopes and placed it on the small table sitting between them.

"As far as excuses go it's...vague."

The phone buzzed on the table, but he ignored it, "Let's see what we've got."

They leaned in and read together:

8 October, 1779

My Dear Friend,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know you are busy however I have one last mission I required of you for King and Country. It will not be easy, and it brings me great sorrow to ask this of you but you are the only man I trust to do it.

A letter has come into my possession from a monk at the Berne Abbey in the Dutch Republic which details a potentially devious plot by my predecessor, King John, to have the original Crown Jewels removed from Great Britain.

You may have heard of the Crown Jewels that were lost in 1216 by the King. The story is that King John travelled from Lincolnshire to Norfolk and proceeded to lose the Crown Jewels that were in his possession at the time. These are not the current Crown Jewels residing in the Tower of London but the first of them. It has long been accepted that he sent his baggage train along a route that was passable during low tide, however the horses were too slow and were lost when the tide came in.

You must be wondering why I would believe such a fantastical story when the original story was confirmed by witnesses. The evidence is this:

King John was not a popular man, first with his failure to reclaim Normandy from the French and then failure to implement peace with rebellious Barons via the Magna Carta which lead to a civil war. It was in this civil war that John, allegedly, lost the Crown Jewels and then died of dysentery soon after.

The letter from the monk alleges that King John schemed to take the Jewels on a ship to the Dutch Republic. The letter will explain everything in detail.

My request of you, old friend, is to investigate these allegations and, if found to be true, to recover the Crown Jewels and return them to their rightful place in the Empire. It has been over 500 years since the Jewels were lost so I do not know where this will lead you, but I trust your judgement and that you will do what you do best.

Unfortunately, the war with the American colony prevents me from sending aid. But I have sent word to the Abbey that you will be attending at your earliest convenience. This is the best I could do.

This is a mission of the utmost secrecy and only a few of my trusted advisors know. I suggest you take some of your best men, extract yourself from Hawaii in secret and head to the Dutch Republic and take up the trail.

Follow your nose my friend.

Yours faithfully,

King George III

Nate looked at Sully when he finished reading the letter and when Sully finished reading it, he looked up and said, "Well isn't that something."

"You're telling me" Nate replied. He flipped the plastic sleeve over and on the back was a second letter written in tight script:

8 March, 1778

His Royal Majesty, King George III

My Lord, my name is Brother Smit, I write to you from the Berne Abbey in Brabant, Dutch Republic.

During recent extension works of our Abbey, our carpenters discovered a room hidden behind a stone wall. This room contained a simple cot and a desk, standard for our members. Within the desk contained many notes written by a visitor to our Abbey over 500 years ago; a man named Roger of Wendover.

We have read these notes and find them to be the ramblings of a man possessed to the point that he began writing on the walls when he ran out of paper. However, they do mention the lost Jewels of England and after much debate we decided to retain the notes here at the Abbey and send word to you to decide what to do with them.

I have not sent all of the notes as we are concerned they will get damaged in the voyage to England and, while they are in good condition, they are already 500 years old so we thought it was not worth the risk.

We will keep them safely locked away in the meantime.

Awaiting your reply.

God be with You,

Brother Smit,

Berne Abbey

Beneath the letter was a small page written in scratchy script:

19 June, 1216.

I write this confession in the House of our Lord and Saviour as a means to cleanse my soul of the crimes I have committed.

I, Roger, born of Wendover, Great Britain and chronicler of St Albans Abbey confess to conspiring with my Lord, King John Lackland (now deceased) to steal and secrete away the Crown Jewels of Great Britain.

My Lord King instructed me to take the Jewels during a time when he was away from his baggage during the war. I achieved this by stealing them from his baggage train during a particularly difficult trek across the estuary near Norfolk. I then proclaimed the jewels were lost along with the rest of the baggage to whirlpools and quicksand, verified and chronicled by witnesses.

The intention was for King John to sneak away, meeting me in Norfolk and sail to Deventer, Netherlands and seek move further East from there. However, my liege fell ill and sent word for me to continue my journey to the Netherlands and to send word for him on my location when I arrived.

It was with great sorrow that I learned of his untimely passing and with nothing else to do, I have decided to stay at the Abbey with the Jewels in my possession, though safely hidden.

I write this to cleanse my soul. I will return the Jewels and myself to Great Britain to face my crimes once I have satisfactorily repented my sins to God.

Roger, born of Wendover.

"Well isn't that something" Sully repeating his earlier sentiment.

Nate merely nodded, re-reading the letters again.

"And that Spence guy thinks it's legit?"

"That's what he said" Nate murmured as he continued reading. "I can see what he meant when he said this isn't James Bond, this is unreal."

Sully sat back in his chair, hands linked on the back of his head, and asked, "What do you think?"

Nate put the letter back on the table, "Honestly, it seems far-fetched. I mean, Cook died here. There's a monument for him on the big Island, but this is saying it's all a hoax, some big conspiracy to cover up his search for the Crown Jewels? It's a stretch, Sully."

"C'mon Nate, stranger things have happened."

Nate got up from his chair and went to his bed where he sat, he was unsure what to think. This was a significant find and maybe one of the most important finds for British history. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together the puzzle that was set before him. He tried to think about how he would have done it. How would he have created a misdirection so great that no one has ever discovered the lie?

He sat up. "Okay. Let's assume this is true. Cook gets the letter, takes some men and heads for the Netherlands and searches for the Crown Jewels - which I assume he either didn't find, or didn't return it - how did he get out of Hawaii?

"It was reported that he was killed here by the natives, witnessed by his own men."

Sully shrugged, "He fakes his death."

Nate just gave him a blank look.

"C'mon Nate, people have been faking their deaths for centuries. To get out of debt, marriages, crimes, whatever. John Stonehouse did it, John Darwin, Ken Kesey. This isn't any different, really."

Sully picked up the letter and was smacking it with the back of his hand, "The King of England believed they were stolen, and he sent his best guy to look for it. Nate, I've been in this business a lot longer than you have and my gut is telling me the pieces fit.

"We know that the letter is real which means George sent Cook on a secret mission to search for the Crown Jewels. King George wants this done in secret, so Cook fakes his own death, or he sneaks off and they assume he is dead, or whatever and heads to the Netherlands. We know he didn't find them otherwise they wouldn't be lost so they are still out there somewhere."

"That's the other thing" Nate interjected. "Cook was 50 when he died. Supposedly died" he amended before Sully could. "A trip to the Netherlands for a 50-year-old back then isn't exactly first class, even for a Captain. And surely there would be a record of a British ship arriving there."

Sully snorted, "Just grease some palms and they look the other way. It works now, it would definitely work back then."

"Ok" Nate conceded the point. It made sense and it could have worked. "Let's say you're right and Cook leaves Hawaii, goes to the Netherlands and chases after the Crown Jewels, it's a trail that is 800 years old by now, the chances we find anything are slim-to-nothing. We don't even know if the Abbey is still standing."

Sully sat at the table and quickly typed something into the laptop, "Ahuh" he announced triumphantly.

"What?" Nate asked.

He stood up, walked over to Nate and clapped Nate on the shoulder, "Berne Abbey is still standing."

Nate groaned.

Sully laughed, "Look kid, I'm not saying it's a sure thing here. But they're out there somewhere, so let's go to Berne Abbey and snoop around a bit. Check out their records and see what Roger of Wendover had to say. If we find nothing, then so be it. You said you wanted to get away, so instead of Spain we spend some time in Holland while we find our next job.

"But if there is something, if there is a trail to pick up, we will uncover not only one of the greatest lost treasures on the planet but also one of the greatest cover ups in history."

Nate raised his eyebrows, the idea was certainly appealing when he put it like that, "Sully, I've never seen you so passionate about something before." He pretended to wipe away a tear, "It's beautiful."

Sully tossed a pen at Nate and he laughed. "Alright. Alright, we'll go. If anything, I get to tell you I told you so."