The Blue Gypsy: Mystery of the Caribbean Pearl

By Thomas W. Greene

Get ready for a bumpy ride!

The Blue Gypsy is a spectacular Caribbean pearl that has been in the Williams family for over four hundred years.

For thirteen generations, the Blue Gypsy travels with Buccaneer Thomas Williamss descendants, who revere and treasure the pigeon eggsized pearl, believing it to have protective powers. However, the bloody history in which it was acquired follows it.

In 1974, the past finally catches up with Thomas Williamss heirs, and it falls to Jack Colquhoun, eleventh great-grandson of the buccaneer, his mother and pearl custodian, Lala Colquhoun, and longtime ally Spencer Duffy to cross swords with dangerous adversaries. What ensues is a fight not only for possession of the pearl but for the very wealth and continuance of their family, for possession of the pearl has never been solely about its monetary value but the Williams familys history and legacy.

As storms brew on St. Croix, in the US Virgin Islands, Lala, Jack, and Spencer are lashed by more than violent winds when they come face-to-face with the long-lost scions of the Williams family, Antonia Toset and her crazed daughter Dolores.

Unforgettable characters are brought to life as they journey through often-turbulent American and Caribbean historycharacters so dynamic the reader will not soon forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543472806

Thomas W. Greene

Thomas Greene is a name to look out for. He writes with beauty, passion, and truth. Rich in detail, with a host of characters that already loom large in American history, it is a quiet masterpiece. . . . Big themes, themes still being played out on the stages of America and the Caribbean, run deeply and quietly throughout. The characters are real, maybe people you know, but most of all, the story and the writing run true.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Thomas Greene.

Library of Congress Control Number:     2017919336

ISBN:                  Hardcover                        978-1-5434-7278-3

                            Softcover                           978-1-5434-7279-0

                            eBook                                978-1-5434-7280-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Cover art by Kimberly Conrad

https://kimberlyconradfineart.com/

Rev. date: 03/23/2018

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Epilogue

A Word From The Author

1961

Chapter 1

Dedicated to all my fellow Caribbean islanders

who suffered through the devastating

2017 hurricane season.

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CHAPTER 1

"Notice how each particle moves.

Notice how everyone has just arrived here

from a journey.

Notice how each wants a different food.

Notice how the stars vanish as the sun comes up,

and how all streams stream toward the ocean.

Look at the chefs preparing special plates

for everyone, according to what they need.

Look at this cup that can hold the ocean.

Look at those who see the face.

Look through Shams’ eyes

into the water that is

entirely jewels."

Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, The Essential Rumi

I N THE YEAR 1544, off the coast of the isle of Santa Margarita in the Gulf of Panama, an African slave discovered two pear-shaped pearls as large as pigeon eggs. One pearl, la Pelegrina , became renowned. The second pearl, la Azul Gitano , or the Blue Gypsy , traveled through time with 13 generations of Captain Thomas Williams’ descendants.

La Pelegrina adorned Mary I of England, Margaret of Austria (Queen of Spain), Elizabeth of France (Queen of Spain), Philip IV (King of Spain), Maria Theresa wife to Louis XIV of France (Holy Roman Empress), Joseph Bonaparte (elder brother of Napoleon), James Hamilton (1st Duke of Abercorn), and known cross-dresser Felix Yusupov. In 1974, an American beauty possessed the rare jewel when actor Richard Burton purchased it and gave it as a Valentine gift to his wife, Elizabeth Taylor. Taylor commissioned jewelry house Cartier to make la Pelegrina the focal point of a necklace by setting it with pearls, diamonds, and rubies.

January 31, 1671, Caribbean Sea

Before sunset, the Spanish galleon Fortuna hastened northward away from the Isthmus, laden with Spanish treasure. In the cover of darkness, she’d taken leave of her hideout amongst a canopy of palms and mangrove thickets. Bottlenose dolphins and reef sharks followed for a distance. For the next 27 hours Fortuna sailed along a well-planned route, then veered east toward the approaching Bermuda Sloop, Warrior.

28 hours out, Warrior turned west on her way for the epic rendezvous and transfer of great wealth from the Spanish Empire to 34-year-old Captain Thomas Williams.

St. Croix, US Virgin Islands, 1974

Jack Colquhoun, (11th great-grandson of buccaneer Captain Thomas Williams), and his longtime chum Spencer Duffy, touched down on St. Croix on September 7th, 1974. They stepped from an American Airline flight from Miami into a sweltering 90-degree afternoon. Trade winds at the airport were nonexistent. The air sat heavy. A calm before the storm.

Spencer looked back at Jack as he descended the stairs and asked, Are you kidding me? This is the entire airport?

This is it. Not much to look at but it serves its purpose.

I think I like it! Spencer shouted over the whir and sputtering as propellers wound down.

A group of taxi drivers sat off in a corner, played cards and eyed their prospects as the sweat soaked passengers retrieved Samsonite and Louis Vuitton suitcases.

Charlie, the cab driver ushered Jack and Spencer into rear seats of his 1968 blue and white Econoline van then walked off with a nod and without a word.

Spencer rummaged through his carry-on, "Jack, wait to you see what I found. Got it."

You’re joking? Is that the actual transistor radio Pops gave you in ’61? asked Jack.

"It is. For the longest time, I thought I left it in California, but the other day it dropped on my head as I packed. It actually works!" Spencer revealed as he turned the dial and tuned into the island’s weekly death notices accompanied by organ music. Spencer held the radio out the window with the antenna touching metal. He finally tuned into a station out of San Juan that played Elvis and Ruben Guevara.

A dozen songs in, Charlie returned with a skittish young couple from Kansas on their honeymoon and two college girls in skimpy cotton tube tops and well-worn scuffed Birkenstocks. The short one smelled of English leather and showed off a recent hickey.

Sorry, but the air conditioning stopped working this morning, Charlie informed.

All six passengers knew it was more than likely it hadn’t blown cold air for months. So, with windows down they headed away from the airport and through the bleak industrial section of the island on their way towards Christiansted Harbor.

At the Buccaneer Resort, the forgettable honeymooners were dropped off. Charlie took a cigarette break and trolled for passengers while Jack, Spencer and the girls perspired as they got to know one another. Sherry and Monique explained they were taking the semester off to spend a few months at Sherry’s aunt’s winter home on Solitude Bay. Sherry was a short, dark-haired girl with enormous breasts and green eyes. Monique was the opposite; tall at about six feet, b-cups, red hair, and chocolate eyes. Each girl carried one backpack and new snorkeling gear, price tags still attached. Before Charlie returned they made a date to meet in the harbor Sunday night for drinks.

"Christ it’s hot. How much further is Lookout? My damn underwear is soaked with sweat," Spencer complained as he picked his shorts out of his crack.

Jack elbowed Spencer, the girls sniggered and offered the men Virginia Slims.

Have one, we’ve come a long way baby, Monique chuckled.

Spencer grabbed one and lit up like a man possessed.

Ten miles, Jack responded and kept the knowledge to himself that the trip would take another half hour to cover the winding pot holed terrain of East End Road.

At the intersection of an unmarked gravel street in Cotton Valley, Sherry asked Charlie to drop them off.

I can take you right to the house, for no extra charge, he said.

This is fine. We can use a walk after sitting a good part of the last nine hours.

Suit yourselves, Charlie said as he hopped out and placed their luggage on the side of the road. They waved the van’s occupants off and lit more Slims.

Jack, does either one interest you?, Spence asked.

This little game of yours is getting old Spence. If I had to choose I guess Sherry, but I’d prefer the guy we dropped at the Buccaneer. Did you see the bride’s ass? Jack chided.

You’re way too fussy and why do you always go for married men or ones you know you’ll tire of. You need to start getting serious about who you date. And don’t be an ass and think you and Francine are going to pull off that asinine scheme you’re cooking up, Spencer cautioned.

On their flight from Miami, Jack had disclosed to Spencer that their close friend, Francine, and he, were planning to have a baby. Both gay, they believed they’d never have children and the more they conferred the more Jack and Francine realized they could do anything they wanted. That night they slept together and both were pleasantly surprised. The following morning was a bit awkward and they didn’t see each other or talk on the phone for another five days as planned. By the weekend both were on board with having at least one child.

Francine had grown up in Orange Beach, Alabama, a ‘stone’s throw’ from Jack’s family beach house on Perdido Key. When they first met at the 14th Street, Club Deuce, on Miami’s South Beach during a blackout, Jack was amazed to find people were born and raised in the tiny beach town. Two days after her eighteenth birthday she hitched a ride to Apalachicola and worked on an oyster boat for two years. She married the captain and was content for the first year. In their second year, her captain was struck on Commerce Street by a lumber truck. Francine was left speechless when told he left an estate worth six million, all hers, as he had no other family to speak of. One day she was happily preparing their usual Wednesday spaghetti dinner in a small cottage on Apalachicola River, the next, she was a 22-year-old widow with more money than she knew what to do with. That was until she took a trip to Miami and found a 35-hundred square foot house north of Miami Beach in Surfside.

When Jack broke the news to his mother, Lala, she was thrilled. She questioned him where he’d live and raise a child, but neither Jack nor Francine had thought that far ahead.

A little conspiratorially Lala offered, I tell you what. You can have any of the homes we own or I’ll build you something. You and Spencer can work up the design and pick the location. Jack, I don’t want you to start off in your condominium 30 floors above Miami Beach. It’s not healthy and I’d be terrified the little one would fall over the edge. Children can figure out a dozen ways to kill themselves in a single day.

Francine thanked Lala and the two had a good cry together.

I don’t know how I’ll like being a grandmother but this is about you two, Lala said. I’ll come up with a nice name for him or her to call me, but grand, grandmother, and especially granny are out.

Buck Island and its reef appeared as serene and majestic as Jack remembered it back in 1963 on his only other trip to St. Croix. The sea boasted a multi-colored array of blues and greens, and a few Hobie Cats anchored off the island’s West Beach.

Where to guys? Are we getting close? Charlie asked as the Ford sunk deep in a pot hole, bounced off onto the shoulder and landed in Tan Tan bushes. We pay our road taxes to the government and they do nothing to help us taxi drivers. I go through two sets of tires and shocks every year. How do they expect us to make a living? They’re a bunch of crooks. If this weather system blows up into a hurricane, we will all be in trouble, and nothing will get repaired for years. All of us fear another big one. And the mainland, what do they ever do for us? We can’t even vote for our own president, grumbled their petulant driver as he wiped sweat from his brow with an old rag.

The three pushed the old van out of the ditch and landed at the gates to Lala’s house less than five minutes later. The padlock was shiny new and hung from ornate, freshly painted iron gates attached to pink concrete pillars. Jack removed keys from around his neck then swung the gates open. The van took the driveway’s incline begrudgingly as it jerked its way to the top of the mountain. The driveway was laid with ridged concrete and shells; on one side, the pink concrete retaining wall ran up along the cliff side with views of the south shore. On the opposite side, large coconut palms grew to 15 feet. Trade winds increased the higher they climbed, and the temperature became noticeably cooler.

Charlie hopped out and slid open the side door as though he was a bellhop at the Ritz Carlton.

As the van crept down the driveway, brake lights popped on and off. Jack and Spencer stood by their bags in a courtyard with a dormant fountain, lush Bougainvillea, groupings of small palms, gray and green leafed agave, royenii cacti and three carport bays, one of which was occupied by a new Jeep. An arched doorway in a fortress-like wall with a solid wood, medieval feel gave way to the immense expanse of the north shore. Ancient Danish brick formed a meandering walkway which led to imposing double doors. From this, the west side, the house appeared simple, even boring, and gave no hint of what would be revealed.

A six foot eight-inch dark Jamaican slunk behind the pool’s pump house with a cocked pistol aimed at Jack’s chest.

Two years before the rendezvous of the Warrior and Fortuna

The sleepy little town of Portobelo, on the Spanish Main, July 1668

When Buccaneer Thomas Williams came to the attention of the infamous pirate Captain Henry Morgan, Morgan discovered Williams was also of Welsh decent and the two became confidants and allies. The two, along with their privateers, captured Portobelo and held the town for ransom. Williams’ wife, Cataline Pacheco, from a Spanish noble family, acted as liaison between the pirates and the President of Panama, Don Agustin de Bracamonte. Bracamonte accepted the terms set forth by Morgan and the prize consisted of a massive sum of nearly a quarter of a million pesos. A deal was struck between the two privateers; Williams, for his part, received enough silver to purchase the Bermuda Sloop Warrior, man the ship, and then some. Morgan split the remainder of booty with his privateers, and seized a bit extra for himself.

Williams sailed his new ship to the French island of St. Croix, southeast of Jamaica. There he purchased nearly 1,600 acres along its south shore. In April 1669, word came Morgan needed his assistance to escape from a trap set by Spain’s Armada de Barlovento. Williams immediately set sail to the lagoon of Maracaibo. Due to his daring, and the sheer incompetence of the Spanish, the tide turned, and led to the complete destruction of the armada. Spain’s colonial possessions were now ripe for the picking. Their defenses down.

Sack of Panama

In the year 1654, 17-year-old Welsh born Thomas Williams, cousin of the Duke of Hamilton, married 15-year-old Cataline Pacheco, of Spanish noble blood. Before the year was out, Cataline gave birth to a boy they named Steffan. The following year Thomas set sail aboard a frigate of the English Royal Navy.

Cataline Williams and her son, resided in Panama City, and lived a life of spoiled existence among her extensive and titled Spanish family, (she also pumped the blood of the Incas, which mixed to produce a short, dumpy, dark-haired bitch). Her son, Steffan, was considered by most to be ‘touched,’ slow to learn and lacking a center of gravity. He knew very little of the world but what Cataline deemed for him. She filled his head with things of beauty that only a reunion with his father could provide. Weeks before the reconciliation, a messenger arrived at her villa on the outskirts of Panama City with a brief note from her husband.

My dearest wife, I am thankful you and Steffan have decided to join me. I am sailing to Jamaica, and once business is done we will set sail for you. I am anxious to visit with your family. I hope they have been well since my last trip.

If necessary, be ready to depart the city without notice.

Your Beloved Thomas

Cataline heard of her husband’s latest raids and was shrewd enough to know he was a wealthy man. She wanted her fair share, and she would get it, if not for her, then for their son. He was old enough to join the family business and command a ship of his own. An expensive pursuit.

Steffan was a brawler, always using his physical assets when he believed his mental deficiencies were mocked. He led a group of wealthy boy drunks that terrorized Panama City. The Spanish government would be happy to see him go, but Cataline would be missed for her extravagances and how, on her forays, she loved to share her wealth with every butcher, baker, dressmaker, and jewelry merchant. Always weighted down with pearl necklaces, gaudy gold chains, rings on all fingers, people puzzled how the short stocky woman managed it.

There was one trophy she valued over all others; la Azul Gitano. At the time, it was a pearl necklace joined by small, spherical, gold beads that were threaded from small to large in eight parallel rows, and hung around the neck and upon the bosom of the governor’s wife. Only once did Cataline witness the vision of the pearl’s blue light; along the coast the sea captured the brilliance from within which appeared to beat as a heart does. Then it became still.

Cataline made sure the governor’s wife entrusted Cataline’s devoted Jesuit with the pearl’s safety. The necklace was part of the treasure she’d ferry away aboard her husband’s sloop.

Weeks before Panama was conquered and burned to the ground, most of the city’s wealth had slipped away. Much of the booty was secured in large, cast iron chests or carried away in sacks. Treasures were sent on boats down the Chagres then north along the coast and finally transferred to the Fortuna. Neither the Spanish government nor Henry Morgan knew the Fortuna’s conspiratorial course of action.

Captain Thomas Williams, along with his wife’s family and Spanish Captain Castillion, set the scheme in motion as soon as word came to the isthmus of Morgan’s plans. The governor consigned over a third of the treasury’s jewels, precious artifacts, silver and gold coin to the schemers. He and his ministers mistakenly believed Fortuna would hide out until word came it was safe to set sail for Spain.

Thomas Williams’ Warrior sailed to rendezvous with French privateer ship Le Cerf Volant that was commandeered and renamed Satisfaction by her legendary owner, Captain Morgan. The two ships met up on October 24th, 1670 off the coast of Tortuga. The scene was blood-tingling, as nearly 80 percent of all Caribbean privateers had amassed. Word circulated that the successful Captain Morgan was about to make a play for Panama, the second largest city in the western hemisphere. The enormous wealth believed to be held there was the simple reason every buccaneer, pirate and privateer wanted to take part in the raid.

Prior to setting sail for Panama, the pirate fleet of over 2,000 men and 37 ships looted St. Catherine’s. They came away with four dozen cannons, nearly 200 muskets and over 30,000 pounds of gunpowder.

The goal was not straightforward. Panama hunkered down on the western side of the isthmus and the best route would take them up the Chagres River where a considerable fortress defended the mouth. The Spaniards had plenty of time to prepare and chose a ‘scorched earth policy’ should the pirates conquer the fort. Before villagers deserted they stripped the land of everything useful, especially food stuff.

Late January in the year 1671, Thomas set sail for Panama with Captain Morgan, on as fine a day as God bestows upon man.

In merely nine days Morgan and Williams, along with criminals, Englishmen, Dutch, French, blacks, Indians, and renegade Spaniards captured the city which had been defended by one of the most feared armies ever assembled.

When Morgan and Williams reached the east coast of the isthmus with boatloads full of booty, it was split between the men. Morgan was celebrated for his trustworthiness but this one time he and his captains took the greater portion of treasure, and left less than a tenth of what was expected to be split between the remainder of the crews. Morgan recognized this would be his last battle so he chose to gamble with his reputation and his life.

The two buccaneers then bid their ‘goodbyes’. Each believed they would never see the other again. With nearly half the men he assembled, Williams set sail towards the northeast. He told his crew and all that listened, they would sail to Porta Prince, settle in, and make plans for their future.

Caribbean Sea, February 2, 1671

The Warrior and Fortuna anchored broadside to one another. Grappling hooks were thrown and the two ships brought together. Three ragged men from the Warrior climbed aboard Fortuna, each with a large gunny sack thrown over a shoulder. Six of the crew of the Fortuna maneuvered three substantial, wrought iron Armada Boxes aboard the Warrior. The ships separated and bobbed at anchor under a blazing sun. While the two captains inspected their loot, most of the crews took shelter and a siesta. Others, cutlasses and pistols at hand, stood on high alert.

Away from prying eyes, Captain Williams inserted a key into the first lid, turned and activated spring-loaded bolts. The chest was heaped high with jewelry on a bed of Spanish Gold Escudos and silver ‘pieces of eight.’

Thomas found an envelope with the Spanish Empire’s deep red wax seal folded into an intricate design. With his knife, he broke the seal and removed a letter. He scanned the partial list of the chest’s contents…

Necklaces

8 Emerald & Diamond

12 Pearl & Ruby

23 Pearl & Emerald

20 Pearl & Gold Beads

39 Gold Chains

108 Rings

148 Ear Pendants

31 Diamond & Emerald Crosses

39 Diamond & Ruby Crosses

207 Loose Emeralds

429 Loose Diamonds

188 Loose Sapphires

La Azul Git.ano

The second chest did not contain a similar list and appeared hastily thrown together. Atop more gold and silver coins he found emerald and gold necklaces, necklaces of baroque pearls with square and rectangular emeralds, cross-pendants set with emeralds and embellished with pearl drops and magnificent emerald-studded collars.

Thomas knelt before the third and largest chest, crossed himself, put his hands together in prayer, Por favor querido Dios, he whispered. The bolts sprung open, Thomas lifted the lid and sat motionless, in disbelief of what he came face to face with. GOLD! Incan treasure. Gold figures of all sizes depicting birds, men and monkeys. He marveled at a mantle decorated with thousands of gold pieces, a gold sculptural vessel head with the face of God Naymlap, earflaps made of chrysocola and gold, ceremonial vases of gold sheet inlaid with chrysocola, gold bracelets, gold funerary masks inlaid with stones, ceremonial knives, necklaces, scepters and solid gold irregular shaped orbs.

God damn! They knew how to work metals magnificently! mused Thomas as he scanned intricate embossing, engraving, welding and alloying. Their skills bespoke of unmatched artisanship.

Captain Thomas Williams stood on deck, waved, and nodded at the Fortuna. A bulkhead opened on Fortuna and out stepped 17-year-old Steffan Williams who reached out a hand to help his mother, Cataline, to the deck. Cataline cried as she scanned the scene and looked south towards Panama. She and a Jesuit hugged and kissed. He wore a cassock buttoned at the neck, a cincture at the waist and Canterbury Cap.

Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve loved Panama since I arrived at three years of age, and it breaks my heart to leave, but I must do what I must do. As you can see, my husband Thomas is waiting. Please wish us luck because Steffan and I will need it, Cataline pleaded with the Jesuit.

Dear woman, you have the strength within you, now go, he reassured her as he slipped a small pouch containing la Azul Gitano into her hand. God is with you.

Unlike her son, Cataline was dressed for travel. She wore a long, mannish coat with wide cuffs and a matching petticoat over a high-necked bodice with long tight sleeves, a lace-trimmed cravat, and a tricorne hat with ostrich plumes. Steffan was rather a dandy in his blue waistcoat with wide buttonholes, white boot hose over scarlet stockings and low shoes, and an elaborate wig draped half way down his back.

Together on Warrior, the three gave the sense of a pleasurable reunion.

CHAPTER 2

Betrayal…is my favorite subject.

Norman Jewison

A FTER THE MEETING between Thomas, his wife and child, they feasted. As Thomas rose to retire for the night he demanded the necklace from Cataline.

What necklace? Cataline asked.

You know what necklace. I saw that Jesuit hand it to you.

You’re mistaken Thomas.

Kimball! Kimball! Get over here. I want you to go to my wife’s accommodations and rip it apart if you must. You’re looking for a pearl the size of a pigeon’s egg.

Stop this husband. Are you accusing me of thievery? That necklace is in one of your chests. I saw it put there with my own eyes.

Go Kimball, and make good time of it.

And he did. He found it deep in the toe of one of Steffan’s shoes. Cataline wanted to kill her husband. She envisioned him tied to the ground, slits cut in his stomach and starving rats inside those slits eating him from the inside. In ecstasy, she’d watch his agonizing pain and eventual death.

Thomas let out a belch, pushed the table against his wife