The Simeon Chamber by Steve Martini

thing that can ever settle the dispute as to where Drake landed,” said Nick.
    “What’s that?”
    “Drake’s journal.”
    “Well, I would assume that he kept a ship’s log.”
    “This was no ship’s log. It was a detailed journal containing entries of the most minute 49
    details of his voyage. A personal diary, if you will, chronicling his innermost thoughts and fears, his private conversations with other officers, his dealings with indigenous peoples at each landing. There’s just one hitch.” Nick looked up at Bogardus. “Nobody knows where it is. We know the book existed because several crew members wrote and talked about it after the Hinde reached England. There are a number of theories on what happened to it. Some believe that Drake destroyed it himself in order to embellish upon the trip in later writings. Others think that it was confiscated by the king of France when Drake landed there on his return to England. The journal is reputed to have contained meticulous notes on all of the exploits of the trip, including drawings, in Drake’s own hand, in the margins. It seems the captain fancied himself a real …” Nick’s sentence trailed off and his gaze lifted to engage Sam’s eyes directly. Sam’s jaw sagged. “… artist,” Nick finished the sentence.
    Before Nick could say another word Sam had retrieved the brown leather briefcase. Nick pushed the plates to one side and mopped up the water condensation from under the glasses. Sam spread the parchments on the table and both men sat and stared in disbelief. There in the margins of each of the four pages were small, delicate ink drawings, one of a bird of prey perched on a stand, an object clutched in its talons, another showing human figures gathered behind tall grass and still another depicting a small boat or canoe. In all there were seven miniature ink drawings on the four pages. 2
     
    Threading his way through traffic onto the Bay Bridge, Bogardus wondered what connection could exist between a sixteenth-century manuscript and the disappearance of a naval officer three hundred years later. He was confident that the pages that he’d left with Nick would be deciphered by experts, but would they reveal anything?
    As he approached the Treasure Island off-ramp from the bridge, Sam moved into the right lane and took the winding road down toward the naval base. He was stopped by a marine at the gate.
    “Can I help you, sir?”
     
    Sam looked up into the bright glare of the afternoon sun and shaded his eyes with his hand. “I’m here to look at some records of a naval board of inquiry convened back during World War Two. Do you know where I can get some information?”
    “Yes sir, you might try Fleet Operations Building, the public information counter. They can probably help you.” The marine quickly gave directions, and five minutes later Sam was at the counter being assisted by a young sailor. He was ushered down a long corridor and asked to take a seat in a small reception area.
    After several minutes a young officer approached Sam.
    “Mr. Bogardus, I’m Lieutenant Keenan, attached to the Judge Advocate General’s staff, Sixth Fleet. How can I help you?”
    The officer was in his late twenties, impeccable in his attire, with straight dark hair parted neatly on the left—a preppie who had traded in his tweed jacket and argyle socks for a uniform.
    “Hello, Lieutenant.” Sam flashed a broad grin. “I’m here doing some investigation on a case.” He pulled a business card from the breast pocket of his suit coat and passed it to the officer. “I’m looking for the official records of a naval board of inquiry that convened back in 1942. It involved the loss of a naval blimp that crashed in a residential part of San Francisco. I believe the crew was lost.”
    A slight smile began to form around the corners of the officer’s mouth. “Why is everybody so excited about that blimp after all these years?
    You’re the second person to ask about