James Beckett's Gold
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: Gold or Kate? Alas, I don't own either. Rating: K Time: After Season Eight.
"There it is, Beckett. El Museo Historico de Mexico. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Kate laughed and took his hand.
"One of the reasons I love you is how excited you get over libraries and museums."
"How can anyone not get excited about museums and libraries. And look at how big this one is." He thought for a moment. "It's a shame they don't have any dinosaurs, though."
"It is a history museum, babe. But perhaps if the dinosaurs had left better records…"
"Now you're just being silly."
"I wonder where I could have picked that up from?"
"Senor Castle." Said the driver of their limousine. "Since the museum isn't officially re-opened yet, we'll be going to the employee's entrance. Doctor Arango will meet you there and begin your tour."
They pulled into the employees' entrance and found Dr. Arango waiting for them. He was a tall, well-dressed man in his early forties. His black hair and cinnamon complexion spoke of a Native American heritage. The limo stopped and the driver jumped out to open the door for Kate, only to find that Rick had beaten him to it.
"Mr. and Mrs. Castle?" Said Dr. Arango. "I'm Jaime Arango y Oviedo. On behalf of the museum, I am happy to welcome you to Mexico. I hope you had a good flight and no problems at the airport?"
"We had a wonderful flight. Of course, Beckett slept almost all of the way."
Dr. Arango suppressed an urge to panic and consulted his clipboard. It wouldn't do to mix up the name of the wife of an important donor like Richard Castle.
"I'm sorry, Senor Castle. We were informed your wife's name is Katherine. Has there been a mistake?"
"Oh, no. Kate is a retired New York Police captain. When we first met, she was a homicide detective, and I was following her around to do research on my books."
Arango nodded.
"Of course, the famous Nikki Heat books. I have read them all."
"Detectives in New York are in the habit of calling each other by their last names, so she was Beckett, and I was Castle. I've been calling her Beckett for such a long time I sometimes forget we aren't solving murders anymore."
"I am glad no mistakes were made, Senor Castle."
"Please call me Rick."
"Certainly, and will you please call me Jaime?"
"Of course."
"It is an odd coincidence. We have an exhibit featuring a man named James Beckett."
"You have an exhibit featuring my father?"
"Oh, no, Senora Castle. This James Beckett disappeared nearly a hundred and sixty years ago."
"Please call me Kate and may I call you Jaime?"
"But of course. Would you like to see the James Beckett exhibit? It's nearby."
"Yes, very much so." Rick and Kate said in unison.
Dr. Arango led them to an elevator and then down a short hallway.
"Here's the section on Mr. Beckett. That's his photograph in the center."
Castle leaned closer to get a better look.
"You know, he kind of looks like me."
"From the nose up. You can't tell anything else because of that huge beard he has." Kate said.
"Beards were in during the Civil War era." He stroked his smooth cheeks. "I wonder how I'd look with a beard like that?"
"You'd look like a man who'd never be able to kiss his wife."
"Excellent point. Excellent point indeed."
"How did a Mexican museum end up with an exhibit featuring this Mr. Beckett?" Kate asked.
"Mr. Beckett was a wealthy man who lived in Virginia at the start of your Civil War. Like a number of wealthy American southerners, he decided to sit the war out in London. However, he was asked by Confederate officials to unofficially help Confederate agents in Europe procure arms for the Confederacy. What they didn't realize was that while Mr. Beckett was a Virginian, he was very much a supporter of the Union. He became a double agent, pretending to work for the South but actually working for the Union."
"How did he become involved in Mexico?" Kate asked.
"During your Civil War, France, under the Emperor Napoleon III, invaded Mexico and set up an Empire under the rule of an Austrian member of their royal family, the Archduke Maximillian. When your Civil War ended, some high-ranking Confederates fled to Mexico either because they couldn't stand to live under their conquerors, or because they feared being charged with treason. Just before the end of your war, Mr. Beckett had helped arrange a large loan in gold from a British bank. Some ex-Confederates had dreams of setting up a new Confederacy in Mexico under the protection of France and the Mexican Empire. Several southerners in Europe wished to take the gold to Mexico to finance their dreams. Mr. Beckett went along to try to prevent any such mischief. But, in 1866, Napoleon III began withdrawing his army from Mexico. The war in Mexico was becoming increasingly unpopular in France and the US was now providing modern arms to the Republican forces under President Benito Juarez. It was obvious that the Mexican Empire was doomed, so the southerners took the gold and left Mexico City for the port of Vera Cruz. They and the gold never got there. No one knows what happened to it and them."
"Fascinating." Rick said. "Is that Mr. Beckett's diary. The blue book?"
"Yes, would you like to read it?"
"Oh, very much so." He looked at Kate. "Do you mind?"
"I'd never dream of separating you from an interesting book."
"Perhaps we could continue with the tour as planned?" Dr. Arango said.
Back at their hotel that night, Rick was curious if the Virginian James Beckett was related to Kate.
"Not that I know of. One of my dad's great aunts was very into genealogy and researched the family back to well before the settlement of the US. I read what she sent to my dad when I was in high school. There was no mention of any Becketts from Virginia."
Castle picked up the diary and began reading…..
Richmond, Virginia.
July 28, 1861.
"Jim, you can't really be considering leaving Virginia and going to London. You're needed here."
James Beckett shook his head.
"Mike, just what am I needed here for?"
"Why, for the bank and for the railroads."
"The bank is an empty shell. Most of the bank's money is in the north, in New York, Philadelphia and Boston. And they aren't going to send it back here. Once I'm in England, the Yankee banks can't legally refuse to send money to my banks in London. As far as the railroads go, I invested in them. I have no idea how to run them. And, I might add that my home, Sand Harbor, was shot to bits by artillery in some skirmish after the battle of Manassas."
"My wife Johanna and I, and our little girl, Katherine, will head for Florida. From there we'll take a fast boat to the British Bahamas and from there, sail to London. I'm sure the Confederacy will manage without me somehow."
"Michael, it might be best for us for Jim to head for London."
The speaker was a tall, grey-haired man, dressed in a style some thirty years behind the times.
"As you know, Eric Vaughn has left the State Senate of Virginia to go to London to procure weapons, and other supplies for our war efforts. He'll also be trying to arrange loans to the Confederacy. However, Vaughn is…" State Senator Hammond stopped.
"Vaughn is a firebrand for secession, but he's hardly the most diplomatic person you could send." James Beckett finished for him.
"The man is a bull in a China shop." Senator Hammond muttered. "But you have connections in London and Vaughn has none. He's been officially appointed to the job, so we can't make him work for you, but if you were to offer to assist him…"
Beckett snorted.
"Responsibility without power. If anything goes right, Vaughn will take the credit. If it goes wrong, he'll blame me."
"It is important, James."
"I'll do my best to rein in Vaughn, but I warn you that it will most definitely not be easy. You know what he's like."
Richmond, Virginia.
July 29, 1861.
"You agreed to this, Jim?" Johanna Beckett said. Her voice was soft, but Jim knew there was steel behind it. "You and I abhor this war, and slavery, the reason for it. Why would you agree to help?"
"Because I can be of help to the Union. Vaughn is likely to make a hash of everything and if I encourage him, he'll make an even bigger mess. Perhaps I can even contact the US authorities in London and give them information. Although knowing Vaughn, he'll be holding all of his conversations at full bellow. Everyone in London will know what he's doing."
"I'd better start packing, dear. I wonder what the fashions are like in London?"
"I'm sure we'll find out."
Liverpool, England
October 8, 1861.
"The Maid of Cork is the very first of her kind, gentlemen."
The man speaking was the owner and captain of the blockade runner, the Maid of Cork, one Kevin Ryan. Three men were seated in the captain's cabin of the ship.
"She's built to run the blockade the Yankees have set up around your ports. She's built for speed and nothing but speed. She has a shallow draft and can sail where normal navy vessels cannot."
"She hardly carries any damned cargo, Mr. Ryan!' Bellowed Eric Vaughn. "She's long and narrow and has huge engines and too damned little space for cargo. Dammit man, we need big ships. As big as possible to deliver what we need. I demand that you provide us with a proper ship for what we need. I absolutely demand it. Do you hear me?" Vaughn leaped to his feet as he yelled.
"I hear you and I'm ignoring you. The Maid of Cork is not a Confederate ship, it belongs to me, and it will do as I say. If you're unhappy, please feel free to cancel your contract with me and look elsewhere."
Vaughn looked like he was about to explode.
"Eric, Captain Ryan is a nautical person, and we are not. Perhaps it would be best to take his advice?" Jim Beckett said.
Vaughn glared at Beckett, then at Ryan and then sat down again.
"At least you could provide more cargo space for weapons." Vaughn said, gritting his teeth. "You're only carrying 500 Enfield rifles and a half a million percussion caps. The rest of your ship is filled with luxuries such as silk, French perfumes, Scots whisky and other fripperies. We need weapons, medicines, shoes and…everything for our army, sir. You must carry more what we need."
"I carry what will make me the most money, sir. The silk alone that I carry will profit me more than the rifles and percussion caps."
Vaughn's face was turning red. Beckett spoke just before Vaughn exploded.
"Perhaps if you could tell us the time and your route, we could alert the authorities in Charleston of your arrival?"
Ryan laughed.
"You're not a seagoing man, Mr. Beckett, are you? I need to sail across the Atlantic to the Bahamas and stop there. I'll take on more coal so that I can make a high-speed run when I need to. And, in the Bahamas I'll get the latest intelligence as to the Union navy and their patrols. I may even have to change the port that I make for if Charleston is too well guarded. Perhaps Wilmington, North Carolina or a port in Florida."
"Florida!" Vaughn roared. "There are hardly any rail connections between Florida and the main fighting fronts. It'll take forever to get our supplies there. I demand…"
Jim interrupted him.
"Eric, it's better to have a cargo landed safely in Florida than one at the bottom of the Atlantic off Charleston. Captain Ryan knows what he's doing."
Vaughn shot to his feet.
"This meeting is over." He roared and stormed out.
TBC