The Shell

By Jenni Boyd

Nicole Fysh, a conchologist (the study of shells), receives some holiday snaps, and discovers a rare and valuable shell amongst the images, causing her to fly to the remote north west of Australia, and find the one thing that could change her future, but she is not the only one in search of this shell, as it contains a secret. 
While diving the dangerous waters of Buccaneer Archipelago, she is attacked, and barely survives the encounter. With her life under threat, she is forced to change her appearance and identity, fleeing halfway across the country, but cannot escape those determined to obtain the shell. 
Despite her best efforts to forget what happened that fateful day, she must go back to where it all began, and is faced with the decision of who she can trust, as now the stakes have risen even higher. The life of her friend, or the shell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jenni Boyd Books
• Release date: Dec 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9780987244345

Jenni Boyd

Jenni Boyd was born in Adelaide, Australia. She has eight published books, her first being Natalia, a story of mystery, myth and girl's journey to find the truth. Her second book Missing, is set in the remote outback of Australia, cattle country. It was with this story that Jenni found her niche in writing was thrillers. Basing her stories in the remote areas of Australia, which she had travelled by 4WD, with camper trailer in tow and a satellite phone as her only means of contact. Jenni's latest release is the Steel Series, which consists of three books: Defiance of Danger, The Riddle, Rusalka. These books are not standalone and need to be read in order to fully understand the story. When not absorbed in the latest gripping page turner, or spending time with her family, Jenni loves sewing, gardening and collecting shells. Jenni is a mother of two, stepmother of three and grandmother of seven. She currently resides with her partner in the northernmost part of Queensland, Australia and commonly called crocodile territory.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The only sound to be heard was the gentle lapping of water against the boat’s hull. Visibility was minimal, as the navigational lights offered no more than a dull glow and the moon was barely a waning crescent. Despite the protection of near darkness, his hands shook as he quickly untied the rope that secured the boat’s tender to the larger vessel. He took a moment to quickly look behind him as he put a hand to his chest, reassured to feel the object was inside his lifejacket. Something so rare he felt compelled to protect, for it contained a hidden secret that he knew many would kill for, but would also cause its destruction.

His heart was racing as he turned and faced the water and then began to move hand over fist, hauling on the rope. Ever fearful of being discovered, he kept his ears peeled for any sound of movement from below the deck. A sudden change in the ocean’s current hampered his task as it pulled the small tender away from him. He planted his feet more firmly on the swim platform and leaned back against the larger vessel to gain a better purchase. The rope burned painfully at his hands as he battled a game of tug o’ war with the ocean that seemed to be winning for the prize of the small boat.

Sweat dripped in his eyes but with his small window of opportunity quickly closing, he could not take the luxury of time to wipe away the burning droplets. As he used the full weight of his body to pull the rope towards him, the object within his jacket pressed hard against his chest, inciting him to fight harder.

His focus on pulling the tender to the larger craft was so intent he did not hear the opening of the door of the cabin, nor the soft footfalls that came to the edge of the deck just above him. It was the distinct sound of a gun being cocked that alerted him to his folly and almost caused him to lose his footing.

Hand it over or become shark fodder! said a voice behind him.

As another wave pulled at the rope, he made a split second decision before using all his strength to launch off the swim platform and out into the water. With one hand on the rope, the other held tightly to the prize beneath his lifejacket as he prayed the ocean would pull him and the tender well clear of the larger vessel.

When his body came in contact with the water he felt an element of relief, as the current dragged him and the tender away into the darkness. He heard no retort, but could hear the sound the bullets made as they pelted the water. His assailant was using a silencer, which confirmed his suspicions about his treasure.

He was well aware of the dangers that lurked beneath the water, so quickly pulled himself along the rope until he felt the reassuring contact of the side of the tender. He struggled to climb over the gunwale, as his lifejacket hampered his efforts. He quickly removed his treasure, trying to keep a firm grip upon it and the boat with one hand, while releasing the fastening of the lifejacket with his free hand.

Moments later, he flung his only lifesaving device inside the boat and proceeded to haul himself over the gunwale. Simultaneously a wave pulled him back as he felt a sudden searing pain shoot through his body.

As he sank below the salty depths, he knew he did not have the strength to battle the waves or his attacker. With the acceptance of his fate, his only thought was to protect his treasure, no matter the cost.

INTRODUCTION

Shell collecting became popular as far back as the 17th century, among the aristocracies, which began when the Dutch East India Company, began bringing back incredible shells never seen before. One collector valued his shells so much, that his collection was locked inside a box, which was then locked inside two more boxes, and when he died, three executors where all given separate keys that would open only one of the boxes.

One of the rarest shells in the world is a spotted Leucodon Cowrie, only three of them are known to exist, one of which was found in the stomach of a fish. In 1976, a specimen was sold for more than three times the value of a painting, by Johannes Vermeer, sold at the same time, which is now valued at around $100 million.

Russia’s Catherine the Great, and Francis I, husband of Austrian Empress Maria Theresa, were both avid shell collectors. One of their prized possessions was a rare Wentletrap, from the Philippines, which sold in the 18th century for $100,000 in today’s money.

It is also claimed in the 19th century, when the British and French set out on an expedition to explore the unknown parts of the Australian coast, a French crewman claimed that his captain was so preoccupied with discovering and collecting shells, the British were able to lay claim to the South Eastern coast of Australia.

CHAPTER ONE

Twenty-eight year old Nicole Fysh is a conchologist (the study of shells) at a struggling museum in New South Wales, Australia. Nicole knew she was not a woman that men took a second look at, although considered the fact inconsequential, as her career was her primary focus.

Standing at five feet four, with frizzy nondescript brown hair, her dress code consisted of thick black masculine style glasses, ill-fitting clothes and orthopaedic looking shoes. If a man did take the time to look at her more closely, he would see her pale skin was flawless and behind her ugly glasses were a pair of vivid green eyes.

What started out as a seemingly normal day for Nicole soon progressed to a downward spiral. It began with her being informed of possible staff cutbacks. As she was the youngest and most recently employed, her position wasn’t as secure as the more senior and learned staff. This greatly concerned her as her future depended on this job.

Nicole’s fascination with shells started at the young age of six, when she found her first shell upon the shores of Kangaroo Island, off the coast of South Australia. Her grandfather encouraged her interest by buying her, her first book on the history of shells. She repeatedly read the book from cover to cover until the pages became dog-eared, and it eventually was instrumental in her career choice.

Her young eager mind discovered that shells were not just attractive ornaments, but were used as cooking utensils, scrapers, oil lamps, boat bailers and musical instruments. They also proved to be invaluable time capsules, by preserving information about climate and conditions of the oceans, by continuously picking up sediments from the seafloor, and trapping material within their mineral makeup.

With only fifteen minutes of her workday remaining, she knew it was pointless to begin her next project, so made her way directly to the car park. As she stepped outside the building she noticed the sky had a greenish hue, with ominous dark clouds quickly gathering. She heard the distinct sound of thunder as she ran to her silver Suzuki that was barely six months old, hoping there was no hail in the threatening sky.

As she manoeuvred her car onto the highway it was as if someone had unzipped the clouds, with the sudden downpour of torrential rain. Despite her switching the windscreen wipers to full speed, they did little to help her visibility, causing her to drive at a very slow and cautious pace. Fortunately, the traffic was light and as much as she feared her car being damaged by hailstones, there was a greater concern of the car aquaplaning through the large volume of water that was pooling in sections of the road.

When Nicole finally turned in the entrance of the complex where she rented a tiny unit, the tension in her neck and shoulders was almost unbearable. As she forded the kerb she noticed a package half hanging out of her letterbox, but knew if she stopped to collect it now her car could be swamped from the rapidly increasing volume of water rushing past, so continued to the shelter of the covered car park.

She had barely parked the car when pea size pieces of hail could be heard as they hit the tin roof of the carport. Using her handbag as protection from hail hitting her head, she made a quick dash to the letterbox hoping the contents of the package were not already destroyed.

With her mail safely shoved inside her shirt, she ran for the safety of the covered stairs that led up to her second story unit, suffering at least two hits to the side of her head from the increasingly larger hailstones.

The moment she stepped inside her unit, she dropped her handbag on the table as she kicked off her sodden shoes, and then quickly stripped off her soaked clothes. Shivering from the effects of the ice-cold rain she sought the warmth of her fluffy white terry-towelling robe.

Ignoring her letters she picked up the parcel and saw the sender was from her friends Pip and Geoff. Despite them being nearly twice her age, they were dear friends, and she knew the parcel would contain photos and a gift from one of the many exotic places they had visited on their travels. She first poured herself a glass of white wine and then got comfortable on the couch.

It was not surprising the bubble wrapped gift contained shells, which were in the form of earrings made from tiny Australian, Pinctada Maxima pearl oyster shells. Nicole instinctively knew Pip and Geoff were in Western Australia, most likely Broome, which is the natural habitat of this shell.

She eagerly read the letter and was surprised that Geoff had not only convinced Pip to go diving, but to do so in waters prone to be inhabited by dangerous sharks. Nicole quickly picked up the photos, marvelling at the images of the coastline, proving the travel magazines hadn’t colour enhanced the ocean to try entice tourists to the warmer climate of North West Australia.

Nicole came across a photo of Pip in front of a large coral bommie, which was home to a giant Moray eel that was peeking out from its hiding place. She felt sure Geoff had superimposed Pip in the image, as she was dubious that Pip had actually gone diving, let alone pose next to something that has long canine teeth, and known to inflict a very serious wound.

With the aid of an overhead lamp and a strong magnifying glass that she used to study shell specimens, she examined the photo more closely and made two startling observations. Firstly, there was no trick photography involved, and secondly, she may have stumbled upon the discovery of a lifetime!

With shaky hands she retrieved her phone from her handbag and dialled Pip’s number. As she waited for the call to be answered, she walked towards the fridge to refresh her wine. Nicole suddenly heard Pip’s voice and quickly spoke, only to discover she was talking to her voicemail message.

Pip, it’s Nicole, call me as soon as possible, I don’t care what time of day or night, it’s urgent!

Nicole ended the call and threw the phone on the table, staring at it momentarily as she willed it to ring. Filled with a sudden sense of energy she began to pace, gulping mouthfuls of wine as the full impact of her possible discovery began to dawn on her.

With the culmination of the day’s events are things finally turning for the better, or is my imagination getting the best of me?

Realising Pip could take a while to answer her call she decided to do a little research. Quickly turning on her computer and then impatiently drummed her fingers on the desk as she waited for it to warm up.

With the computer up and running, her fingers shook as she typed. Remembering back to her university days when she had done a thesis on a similar looking object to the one in the photo. A part of her mind told her it was impossible for the object in Pip’s photo to be the same as what she studied at university. Not only was it extinct but it also dated back to the middle Jurassic period or further.

She scrolled through countless pages until she found what she was looking for. Once again she picked up Pip’s photo and looked at it with the magnifying glass while comparing it to the image on the screen. As her brain tried to process what was in front of her eyes, she reread the document.

Scientists are excited about a newly found fossilised ammonite shell. A species never discovered before with an estimation of being around 200 million years old. What adds to the rarity of this discovery is that it still has a portion of the outer shell intact.

From what Nicole could see of the shell in Pip’s photo, the markings were similar to those of the ammonite shell on her computer screen. Expelling a lungful of air as she leaned back in her chair, her mind was racing with thoughts about her future.

The shell would open doors for me that to date have been far beyond my reach. I would no longer be treated with lofty distain by my colleagues, but as a respected equal.

It had long been a dream of hers to uncover a new species, or something so ancient great studies could be made from the secrets it held.

Aside from the rarity of this ammonite shell, the value of such a find is mind boggling, although the money aspect is not what’s important.

CHAPTER TWO

The following morning Nicole woke up with her head pounding like a tom-tom. Her mouth felt as though something furry had climbed into it during the night and died. She realised she had a hangover that was high on the Richter scale, the kind Roger often talked about at work. Not being one to drink often, she had managed to polish off the entire bottle of wine waiting for Pip to return her call.

Oh my God, what if Pip rang but I didn’t hear it because I’d collapsed in a drunken stupor?

Nicole quickly sat up in bed in search of her phone, instantly realising her mistake as the room began to spin, and her stomach lurched, forcing her to make a mad dash to the bathroom. She barely reached the toilet in time as her stomach purged itself of its contents.

As Nicole slumped over the bowl of the toilet, she felt sure she was going to die, in fact welcomed it, as it was preferable to the way she was feeling right now.

With shaky arms she pushed herself up until she was on her feet, moving on wobbly legs across to the sink, certain she would not make it to the shower. By the time she reached the basin and grasped it with both hands, her body was covered in a film of sweat.

After rinsing her mouth and splashing her face with cold water, she slowly raised her head to look at her reflection in the mirror. It took a moment for her eyes to fully focus on the reflection that stared back at her.

Holy crap I look like shit!

Her bloodshot eyes were puffy and aside from rarely wearing makeup, she knew no amount of it was going to disguise her visible signs of her hangover. She realised this was not going to help her position at the museum, especially after yesterday’s meeting.

Of all the times for you to go on a drinking binge, she accused the face that stared back at her.

Her head was pounding so hard that she brushed back her fringe, half expecting to see physical evidence of a drum beating. To her surprise she saw a raised lump that was already darkening into a bruise.

Well Nicole Fysh for a person who hardly drinks, it looks like you pulled out all the stops this time, getting yourself so drunk you blacked out and knocked your head!

Closing her eyes, not wanting to look at herself any further, a memory of the hailstorm and getting pelted with hailstones came to her mind.

Thank God for small mercies, my brain cells are not totally destroyed from my stupidity, she said as she stepped into the shower on shaky legs.

After a long shower, which she spent most of the time sitting on the floor, she finally checked her messages to see if Pip had called. To her disappointment there was still no response.

She managed to eat a piece of toast with honey and drink half a cup of coffee. Feeling remotely human, she knew she couldn’t delay going to work any longer, as it was, she was already late.

The moment she stepped outside and into the sunshine, it was as if her eyes had become photosensitive. She madly fumbled in her handbag for a pair of sunglasses and then began what seemed a marathon walk to her car.

Oh my God, how am I going to survive this day, she said as she slumped over the steering wheel.

After finally manoeuvring her car out of the carport and onto the highway, something that normally took no effort at all, Nicole received countless blasts from car horns and rude gestures from overtaking cars. Confused, she looked at the speedometer on the dashboard and saw she was driving well under the speed limit.

Realising the last thing she needed was to be pulled over for being a traffic hazard. Knowing a police officer would take one look at her and get her to perform a breath test, which she would most likely fail.

Managing to park her car in the staff car park without incident, she then made her way inside. By the time she’d reached her desk she was bathed in a film of sweat.

Nicole, you look like crap! Did you have a big night last night?

She looked across at Roger who was eating greasy fried chicken, spitting food in all directions as he spoke, causing her stomach to churn further. Despite having worked with him for almost a year, she knew very little about him. He was a stout man of about five feet ten and guessed him to be mid to late forties, with dark unruly hair.

She knew he didn’t like her and wouldn’t put it past him to report her current condition to her superior, increasing the likelihood of her retrenchment. Instead of answering him, she pulled back her fringe to show the dark bruise on her forehead, which she had enhanced with a bit of eye shadow.

Holy crap! What happened?

He eased his overweight frame out of his chair and came over for a closer inspection.

You know that hailstorm we had yesterday?

You were out in it? he asked incredulously.

I got caught going from the carport to the stairs of my unit. There is no cover from one to the other.

Looks bad, you could have concussion.

It’s possible as I do feel a bit nauseous.

Nicole was glad she’d had the smarts to use her minor injury from the hailstorm to cover her self-inflicted stupidity.

In her duties, apart from the collection of specimens and research, Nicole was occasionally called upon to value a shell or determine its authenticity. As with priceless works of art, there were fakes or ‘doctored’ shells produced to mirror a rare specimen, increasing its value. Most of these shells originate in the Philippines and are ‘doctored’ by very skilful local craftsmen, a talent that is ever evolving.

One such shell was currently housed in a secure and temperature controlled cabinet awaiting her inspection. In her current condition, she doubted she’d be able to perform the task to the best of her ability, so decided to do a bit of research of her own, until Pip returned her call.

To anyone who happened to glance across at Nicole, she appeared to be working diligently, engrossed in studying a photo and making notes from her computer, which was often done with specimens that were too fragile to be moved from their current position.

The photo she was studying had nothing to do with work; it was the one Pip had sent her. With the aid of a much more powerful magnifying glass than the one she had at home, it appeared at least a third of the outer shell was still intact, possibly making it the rarest find of the century.

What’s got you hyperventilating? asked Roger, standing directly behind her.

He gave her such a fright she almost jumped out of her chair, and her first instinct was to cover the photo and close the program on the computer, which he immediately noticed.

You know it’s not polite to sneak up on people like that, she responded curtly.

Firstly, I didn’t sneak up on you. I came over to tell you that your handbag is ringing.

What? Oh my God!

By the time she fumbled the phone out of her bag the ringing had stopped, the caller had been Pip.

Well? asked Roger.

Nicole looked up at him questioningly.

The photo, what’s so special about it? he asked.

She looked down at the photo and knew he was close enough to have seen the image. Filled with a sudden sense of panic that her life-changing discovery would be snatched from her, she was unable to speak. His eyes narrowed as he stared back at her, and Nicole realised her mistake. She looked back down at the photo and tried to force a smile.

I know you’ll think it silly, but my friend who said she would never go diving, sent me a photo of her doing just that. So I figured it was a bit of trick photography, the reason for the magnifying glass.

And?

She really did go diving.

You know I consider myself bit of a photography buff, it’s amazing what you can do to images today. If you let me take a look at it I’ll be able to confirm whether it is a fake or not, he said as he leaned in to pick up the photo.

No you can’t!

Her abrupt response caused Roger to step back and look at her strangely.

Sorry, but I know my friend would not like me showing her photo to anyone else.

How would she know?

Thanks for the offer Roger, but I think my friend would prefer I believe the photo is legit.

Nicole smiled and waited for him to leave, before shoving the photo in her handbag. She had to ring Pip, but wasn’t about to risk her conversation being overheard. As she’d skipped lunch, she decided to take her titled break now. Once outside the building and felt sure she was alone, Nicole dialled Pip’s number, which was answered almost instantly.

Nicole what’s wrong, you said it was urgent and then when you didn’t answer my call, I was worried sick!

Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. The reason I wanted to speak to you is about the photo of you with the Moray eel…

Don’t tell me this great urgency is a lecture about the dangerous…

No not at all. In fact it is about something else that I saw in the photo. Do you think you can remember the exact spot this picture was taken?

Ah, I don’t know, I’d have to ask Geoff. Why, what’s in the photo that I didn’t see?

Something that is very old and rare. In fact if it is what I think it is, there is only one other of its kind in the world!

Are you talking about treasure? asked Pip excitedly.

In a sense, but you must not breathe a word of this to anyone!

I’ll have to tell Geoff.

Yes of course but no one else. Now are you still in Broome?

Yes, but we were planning to leave the day after tomorrow, although we can always change our plans. Something tells me you will be on the next available flight with your dive gear in your luggage.

You bet. I will call you when I have my flight details.

What about your job, do you think they will give you the time off?

I’ll think of something, if they don’t, I will hand in my resignation.

Are you serious, what the hell was in that photo?

I’ll show you what I saw when I get there.

Can’t you tell me now over the phone, the curiosity is killing me?

Sorry Pip, you’ll just have to wait. I have a flight to book and need to come up with a plausible excuse why I’m suddenly taking leave time.

Nicole rang off before Pip could question her further and made her way back inside to her desk. As soon as she sat down she knew someone had been through her things. The cup that housed her various pens, pencils and highlighters was not in its usual position, and the magnifying glass had also been moved. Her eyes moved to the envelope containing the photos and noticed they were no longer neatly nestled within, but more a haphazard arrangement as though they had been hastily shoved back in.

Nicole looked across at Roger, who suddenly picked up the phone and turned away. Her heart pounded hard against her chest as she was overcome with a sense of panic.

Did he see what I saw in the photo?

Her hand gripped tighter on her handbag that was in her lap, and then relaxed as she realised the photo was in her handbag. Then another thought came to mind, causing her to go through all the photos again, viewing them more carefully. There was an image of a coral bommie with the same vibrant red coral, one she hadn’t studied closely before because Pip was not in it.

Quickly grabbing the magnifying glass she studied the image more intently. The photo had been taken from a different angle, so took her time to scrutinize every aspect of it. Her heart felt as if it had jumped in her throat when she saw a partially hidden shell. Trying to quell her rising panic she hastily pulled the other photo out of her bag and compared the two.

Is this the same shell?

Nicole knew the only way to dispel any doubts was to study the second photo more closely, which meant she needed to enlarge the image. After quickly logging back into her computer, she placed the photo in the scanner to obtain a digital copy. Once that was done she enlarged the image until the object was the only thing visible on the screen. Her stomach felt like it plummeted.

Oh my God, what if Roger saw this?

Nicole looked up and caught Roger looking at her, before he quickly turned away.

I have to book a flight now!

When she checked for available flights she saw there was one seat available for the following day, but the price nearly made her gag.

God I can fly overseas and book accommodation for less. The following week is less expensive, but can I risk waiting that long?

After checking her bank balance, which would be severely depleted if she booked the next day’s flight, Nicole knew she also had to factor in the hiring of a boat, dive tanks and accommodation. She was not sure if her savings would stretch that far. Her finger hovered over the button on the mouse as she struggled to make a decision.

I have my credit card as backup, but then maybe it is better to wait.

Nicole once again glanced across at Roger and noticed he’d adjusted his computer screen, so it was no longer visible to her, sending her active imagination into overdrive.

What if Roger had seen the other image and he is booking his own trip this very minute?

Nicole quickly went back into the airline site, sure to discover the flight was now gone because Roger had booked it. To her relief it was still available and quickly selected it. As she tried to type in her details her hands shook so much it was as if her fingers were all thumbs. Her panic heightened, as she knew one only had a certain amount of time to complete the transaction, before the site logged out. When she finally made it to the payment stage she realised she didn’t have her credit card ready and almost upended her handbag in her haste to find it.

Sensing without looking around the room that her erratic behaviour was drawing attention, she took some deep breaths to calm herself. After typing in her credit card details she crossed her fingers and waited. Finally the screen said her transaction was successful.

Now she had the task of informing her boss that she had to take holiday leave as of tomorrow, and didn’t know when she would be back. After first ensuring her handbag and any photos were securely locked in her drawer, she made her way to the boss’s office.

She hesitated for a few moments before knocking, going over in her mind what she was going to say.

Come in.

The moment Nicole pushed open the door and saw the look of annoyance on his face, her bravado took a sudden nosedive.

What the hell happened to you? he asked rudely before she had a chance to speak.

I got hit by a piece of hail, she said nervously.

What sort of idiot goes outside in the middle of a hailstorm?

I had no choice, there is no cover from the carport to the stairs of my unit.

Then why the hell didn’t you stay in the carport until it passed?

She knew there was logic in his question but wasn’t about to explain she had to retrieve what was in her mailbox.

Um, the reason I am here is that I need to take leave of absence as of tomorrow.

You know you can’t take leave when you feel like it. Fill out a leave form like everyone else, and you will be notified if the selected time is approved or disapproved.

I’m sorry but I can’t do that…

Why the hell not?

It’s an emergency, my flight is already booked. I leave tomorrow.

As he stared across at her he made no effort to disguise his dislike for her, which made her wonder why he had ever hired her in the first place.

I have a friend who is dying, she has no family. I’m all she has…

Nicole did her best to make it look as if she was struggling to contain her tears.

How long do you plan on being away?

I don’t know, it could be a couple of days, or a couple of weeks…

Weeks?

Well, she hasn’t exactly been given an actual date of her death.

He looked at her for a moment.

I will allow you ten days, nothing more.

Thank you.

He nodded his head and then turned back to his computer, letting her know she was dismissed. She looked at her watch as she walked back to her desk, noting it was four o’clock.

I’ve got one hour to do some actual work before I leave for the trip of a lifetime. If things pan out as I hope, I won’t be coming

back here. I will no longer have to deal with a boss who is a chauvinistic pig! Nicole Fysh will be a sort after conchologist. I’ll be able to choose any facility in the world to continue my passion.

A smile came to Nicole’s face as she visualised her dream coming true, which would not only be the turning point in her career of conchology, but attract the attention of geologists, archaeologists and geoscientists.

Perhaps it would be wiser for me to finish my day doing further research on my new project, in preparation for my trip tomorrow.

CHAPTER THREE

As the plane took to the skies, Nicole’s excitement began to dim at the thought of how much money she had spent on her flight. Berating herself for not taking time to think everything through with a clear head. Her thoughts bounced back and forth with the pros and cons of her hasty decision, trying to focus on the positives.

What if I’d held off for a week and