The Confederate gold that had started out from California was never recovered from its resting place on the bed of The Bay of Caves for well over a hundred years. During that time a minor legend grew up around the story of how it found its way to Yucatan, but only a few knew the truth.
Three attempts were made to raise it before the end of the century. They all failed, and those early failures cost four more lives.
The East-West criminal syndicate died along with Kwo Han and the loss of the gold, the impetus draining away. And as Richard Hunt had predicted, Han’s organisation also came to an end. Those who evaded arrest soon fell to arguing amongst themselves as to who should take over from the dead Tong Master. They created the seeds of their own destruction.
Major Ruiz rose through the ranks of the Rurales and became the youngest ranking officer to command a large district in the Province of Yucatan. His defeat of the bandits who had hired out to Kwo Han had a great influence on the criminal element in and around Agua Verde. The strength of the gangs was considerably weakened and never managed to rise again.
For four days Jason Brand lay unconscious in a small hospital at Agua Verde. Busy as he was with tedious reports he had to compile concerning the Kwo Han affair, and the American and British involvement, Richard Hunt found time to call each day to see how Brand was. So did a young Mexican girl called Angel. On the morning of the fifth day Hunt met the doctor attending Brand outside the American’s room.
‘I was about to send for you, Captain Hunt.’ The doctor was a small, precise Mexican who wore steel-rimmed spectacles and spoke excellent English.
‘Has something happened?’ Hunt asked.
The doctor nodded. ‘Si. He has recovered consciousness.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘As long as you do not stay too long. He will need a lot of rest. The blow from that axe is not the only wound I found. Señor Brand has been struck a number of times recently. Too many severe blows to the skull can damage the brain. He’s lucky to be alive. That final blow he took came near to killing him. If that blade hadn’t been deflected slightly and had struck him as intended. He needs plenty of rest to enable him to recover.’ The doctor shrugged. ‘Well, I do not think I need to explain.’
‘Has he said anything yet?’
‘No. He was still very tired when he came round. But he has been left alone for a while. Shall we go in?’
Hunt followed the doctor into the small, white-painted room. It was bare save for a single bed and a couple of chairs. An open window looked out onto the neat, quiet garden surrounding the hospital.
Jason Brand lay staring out of the window. His face looked pale and gaunt against the white bandage covering the top of his bead. Dark rings circled his sunken eyes. He looked utterly weary.
‘Hello, Jason,’ Hunt said. ‘How are you feeling?’
Brand turned to look at him, and Hunt was shocked at the empty expression in his eyes.
‘Who’re you?’ Brand asked his voice a low monotone.
Hunt glanced at the doctor. ‘Doctor?’
The doctor had already moved to Brand’s side. ‘Señor Brand, what is wrong?’
‘What did you call me? Brand? Who’s Brand?’
Hunt felt a coldness form in his stomach. He moved to where Brand could see him.
‘Jason, don’t you know me?’
Brand touched his hand to his head, his face twisting with pain.
‘Know you? Hell, why should I know you? I don’t even know who I am. Or where I am. So if you know, mister, you’d better tell me.’