Chryseis Kent marveled at how fast the Library had been restored to its original state following that harrowing winter night just a few weeks ago when a brazen thief had detonated an explosive device in the Library’s mechanical room before binding, gagging, and torturing Ms. Kent, abducting her, and stealing six of the Library’s priceless scrolls that had once belonged to Cleopatra. As she thought back to the events of that night, she unconsciously brought her hands to her ample chest and shivered while recalling what the sadistic thief had done to her nipples when she initially refused to tell him where the scrolls were hidden. The Library was a shambles that night with walls, floors and ceilings heavily damaged, and books, shelves, computer equipment and furniture destroyed.  Now, the place looked better than before and, amazingly, the repairs and restoration had all been done in just two week’s time. Thinking about it though, Ms. Kent realized that she really shouldn’t have been that surprised because her boss, Ms. Pryor, had previously remodeled other parts of the Library literally overnight.

And, it was a decision by the very same Ms. Pryor which had resulted in Ms. Kent poring over books and treatises about shipwrecks, treasure hunting and maritime law for the better part of the past ten days. Now, on Saturday night, Ms. Kent waited at the Library, which was scheduled to have its grand re-opening in two days, for the arrival of two men Ms. Pryor had ordered her to help more than a week ago. As she waited for their arrival, Chrys thought back to when she first met these two men.

Ten days ago

Chrys was going about her work in the Acquisitions Department of the Library as the reconstruction efforts went on around her when she received a terse email from her boss which stated that two of her acquaintances, a Mr. Spence and a Mr. Jones, were en route to the Library and that Ms. Kent was to do everything she could to assist them.  Chrys wondered what Ms. Pryor was up to this time, knowing from personal experience that there was more to her boss than met the eye.  She involuntarily shivered as she thought about some of her own past dealings with Ms. Pryor, but she snapped out of her reverie when two men, one carrying a small duffle bag, entered her office in the Library basement and, without a word, closed the door behind them.

The two men each appeared to be in their mid-fifties.  They were rugged, hard-looking men with close cropped gray hair and weathered skin. They dressed alike, wearing jeans, sneakers and navy blue long sleeve shirts. The shirts bore an insignia over the left breast pocket – stylized letters J and S with a gold anchor between the letters.  Each of the men handed Chrys a business card.  Mr. Jones, the one carrying the duffle bag, set the bag down on Chrys’s desk before he and Mr. Spence sat in the two visitor chairs across from her.

“Ms. Kent,” began Jones as he looked over the attractive dark haired librarian, staring for several seconds at her chest before his eyes met her gaze. “Your boss told us that we could count on you to help us with a matter that is both urgent and requires discretion.”

Chrys nodded.  “Ms. Pryor told me that I was to assist you, but she didn’t tell me who you are or what kind of assistance you needed,” replied the curvy librarian who was somewhat used to men – and even some women – admiring her figure.

“We own a company, J & S Marine Recovery,” Spence said. “He’s J and I’m S.  J & S is in the marine salvage business.  Do you know what ‘marine salvage’ is, Ms. Kent?”

Before she could respond, Jones answered the question. “Marine salvage is the process of recovering a ship, its cargo, or other property after a shipwreck or other maritime accident.  Sometimes it involves towing a damaged vessel.  Sometimes it involves re-floating a ship that has sunk or run aground. Sometimes it involves patching or repairing a damaged vessel to prevent oil and other contaminants from polluting the sea.”

Spence leaned forward from his chair and put a hand on the duffle bag.  “And sometimes, Ms. Kent, it involves recovering lost treasures from the bottom of the ocean.”  

“And that is why Ms. Pryor told us to see you, Ms. Kent,” interjected Jones. “We have recovered a lost treasure from a ship that sank in international waters and lies on the ocean floor at a depth of approximately 140 feet.  We’ve kept our find a secret because we want the exclusive salvage rights to this find. And we need your help to stake our claim.”

Spence spoke next. Chrys thought it odd how each man told part of the story, but she kept quiet and listened.  “What do you know about treasure salvage, Ms. Kent?”

Chrys shook her head.  “Absolutely nothing.” She smiled as she looked from Jones to Spence and then back to Jones.  “But, I suspect you’re about to educate me?”

Jones nodded but remained serious.  It struck Chrys that neither of the men had smiled since arriving at her office.  “Courts here recognize that under the law of finds, a person who finds abandoned property, such as artifacts recovered from an abandoned shipwreck, is entitled to keep those artifacts. But, he has to possess or continuously be in the process of reducing to his possession the property he has found. If a first finder maintains possession and control over an identifiable abandoned shipwreck, that person can have the exclusive right to continue recovering artifacts from it.”

Spence picked up the lesson. “The law of finds though is different from the law of salvage.  Under salvage law, title to abandoned property lost at sea still remains in the name of the owner.  A person who locates and recovers artifacts under the law of salvage doesn’t obtain title to those artifacts but would be entitled to an award for recovering the artifacts from the wreck.  The idea is that the property owner didn’t intend to abandon the property merely because it was lost in a shipwreck.”

Chrys nodded.  “So, if I understand correctly, under one theory, you would own outright the articles you recover from a wreck if the property was deemed abandoned but under the other theory, you only would be entitled to essentially a reward, maybe a percentage of the full value for any artifacts you recover.”

“You’re very quick to grasp the concepts, Ms. Kent,” said Jones.  “The salvage award is calculated based in part on the value of the items recovered, but other factors also come into consideration such as the value of the salvage services rendered, how fast the salvage efforts are performed, the risk to the people engaged in the salvage efforts to recover the artifacts, the skill level of the salvors, and the degree of danger from further peril to the artifacts. It can get very complex to put a value on a salvage award.”

“So, it sounds to me,” said Chrys, “that it’s better for the salvor to have the law of finds apply to declare the artifacts abandoned.”

“Ms. Pryor told us you were sharp, Ms. Kent,” said Spence.

Chrys ignored the compliment. “I see why you need discretion, but why do you need my help to stake your claim?”

Jones and Spence both stood simultaneously and leaned over the desk towards Chrys.  It was Jones’s turn to speak.  “We need. . . no, we want,” he said, emphasizing the last word, “We want you to identify the shipwreck we found so we can make the claim that the contents on it have been abandoned.  An affidavit or testimony in court by the well-respected Chryseis Astynome Kent, Head Librarian from the University’s Department of Acquisitions, will give our claim significant credibility when we go to court to secure exclusive salvage rights to the wreck.”

Spence unzipped the duffle bag.  “This is just one of the many items we’ve recovered so far. We want you to identify it and tell us how it got to the bottom of the ocean.”  As he spoke, Spence reached into the bag and pulled something heavy from it which he set on Chrys’s desk -- a large bronze-cast head of a dragon.

One day ago

Chrys sat at a desk in the Library’s first floor Reference Room contemplating the results of her research into the puzzle Jones and Spence had presented to her more than a week ago.  The outcome of her efforts, however, caused her great consternation because she was concerned about how Jones and Spence would react to her conclusions. Seeking advice, Chrys had called Ms. Pryor on her boss’s private line.  Ms. Pryor’s enigmatic words still echoed in Chrys’s memory.  “You will have to call them. These are men who insist on hearing bad news at once. Maybe the news isn’t as bad as you think. Maybe, given an opportunity to speak with you in person, they can persuade you to see things differently. Tell them that we spoke and that was my advice to you.”

And so Chrys had called the telephone number on the business cards Jones and Spence had given her. Chrys told them that she believed she had answers for them but cautioned that they might not like those answers. She also let them know that she had spoken with Ms. Pryor about her findings and what Ms. Pryor had advised.  Neither Jones nor Spence revealed their thoughts to Chrys during the brief telephone call and instead they suggested that the three of them meet face to face to go over Chrys’s findings. A meeting was set for the next day – Saturday – at 8:00 PM, after all of the construction workers on the Library renovation project had gone for the day.

Saturday night

Chrys was waiting at the main entranceway of the Library when Mr. Jones and Mr. Spence arrived at precisely 8:00 PM.  Jones carried with him the same duffle bag he had when the three had last met. Chrys ushered the men inside the Library and locked the doors behind them. She escorted them through the main room of the Library which was nearly ready for the grand re-opening on Monday. As they walked past empty display cases, empty walls and empty hanging display systems, Chrys saw Jones cast a quizzical look at Spence.  Assuming that Jones was wondering why the main room was not yet arranged since the grand re-opening was in two days, Chrys explained, “To celebrate the Library’s re-opening, the University asked us to create a Shakespearean gallery. The designer will be here tomorrow to set up the display.  The empty showcases cases will feature manuscripts on loan from the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington. We’ll have some Elizabethan Era art hanging on the walls which we borrowed from the Met in New York City. And we had special floor to ceiling track systems put in so we can properly display some large tapestries brought over from England which were created by William Sheldon, one of the finest makers of tapestries in 16th century England.”

Jones and Spence nodded as they walked through the main room and listened to Chrys describe how the room was to be set up. “That’s fascinating, Ms. Kent,” said Spence.

“But,” continued Jones, “We are more concerned about the research you’ve conducted since we last met.”

“Of course,” said Chrys as she guided the two men into the Reference Room and gestured for them to be seated as she took her seat behind the desk.  Jones, just as he had when they first met, placed the duffle bag on the desk.

“Your conclusions, Ms. Kent?” asked Spence.

“Can we make a claim to the abandoned property under the law of finds?” asked Jones.

Chrys folded her hands on the desk and exhaled slowly.  “Mr. Spence, Mr. Jones, I don’t want to waste your time so I will, as they say, cut to the chase. I think you both are fully aware of what you have found and its significance. It took me less than twenty minutes of searching on Google to identify your artifacts.”

The two men stared at her impassively for a minute before one of them spoke. “What did you find, Ms. Kent?” asked Spence.

She nodded.  “Fine,” she said with a hint of annoyance in her voice.  “Let me tell you both a story that goes back to October 1860 during the Second Opium War in China.  After an some members of a British entourage of diplomats and troops were tortured and executed after negotiating under a flag of truce, the British retaliated by destroying the Old Summer Palace in what is now Beijing.  The Old Summer Palace was known for among other things its garden, architecture and works of art.”

Jones nodded.  “And, is there more, Ms. Kent?”

“Yes,” she answered.  “You know there is more, Mr. Jones.”  She sat back in her chair behind the desk, unbuttoned her blue blazer and smoothed out her white blouse before continuing.  “In addition to destroying the Old Summer Palace, British and French looters made off with most of the valuable property, including 12 bronze animal heads which were removed from statues representing the signs of the Chinese zodiac.  The statues were part of the Haiyantang Zodiac Fountain.

“Since then, seven of the bronze animal heads have been recovered – the rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, horse, monkey and pig.  But five remain missing – the snake, the goat, the rooster, the dog and . . . ,” she focused her eyes on the duffle bag sitting on her desk.  “The dragon.”

“Well done, Ms. Kent,” said Spence.  “And do you know the value of the bronze heads that have been recovered?”

Chrys nodded.  “I know that the ox was purchased at auction for nearly $79 million and the tiger went for close to $36 million. Some of the other pieces also went for several million dollars.  Private collectors have paid for some of the recovered artifacts and so has the Chinese government which seeks to repatriate its stolen art and cultural relics.”

“Ms. Pryor told us you were very good, Ms. Kent.  She was right,” said Jones.  “And your research is consistent with ours.  But, do you know how the dragon head found its way to the bottom of the ocean?”

Chrys smiled with a hint of satisfaction.  “So you don’t know everything.”

“If we did, Ms. Kent,” injected Spence, “We wouldn’t be here now, would we? “

Chrys nodded.  “As best I can tell, the five lost bronze zodiac heads were smuggled out of China and loaded onto a British merchant vessel that was traveling with the British fleet. I found an old log book in the online archives of the British Museum which was kept by a captain of one of the ships in the fleet that was returning to England and it told of how one of the merchant ships caught fire and exploded during the voyage back to England when the ship had made its way back to the Atlantic Ocean after rounding the Cape of Good Hope.  The log book speculates that the merchant ship’s powder stores caught fire and exploded sending the ship and all hands to the bottom of the Atlantic.”

“Is that all, Ms. Kent?” questioned Jones.

She nodded her head slowly.  “I’m afraid so.  That was the best I could find after poring through a lot of maritime records from the British navy and British Museum which I was able to access for research purposes based on my position here at the Library.”  

“Did your research find any evidence of either the British or Chinese trying to locate the sunken ship?” asked Spence.

She shook her head.  “No, I didn’t.”  She paused and looked from Spence to Jones.  “Now I’d like to ask a question.”

“What’s that, Ms. Kent?” asked Jones.

“Have you recovered the lost five bronze zodiac heads?”

“Yes, Ms. Kent, we have,” admitted Spence.  “And we will stake our claim to them as abandoned property based on your research.  We’ve prepared an Affidavit for you to sign attesting to the provenance of the five bronze zodiac heads and confirming that, as far as you can tell after having conducted extensive research, there have been no efforts by the British or Chinese to search for or locate the sunken merchant ship.  As abandoned property, we will be free to sell the bronze heads to the highest bidder.”

Jones smiled.  “And if we can recover close to $80 million for each of them from the government of China or some other collector, we will be very happy.  Certainly happier than if we only were entitled to a salvage award from the Chinese.”

Chrys frowned and shook her head.  “But these artifacts were stolen from the Chinese.  They never abandoned the property because they had no say in their removal from the fountain at Haiyantang.  You haven’t found abandoned artifacts, Mr. Jones.  You’ve recovered stolen property.”

“That’s not how we see it, Ms. Kent.  And that’s not what is going to be stated in your Affidavit,” said Spence.

“Mr. Spence, as I understand the law, Affidavits are statements under oath attesting to the truth of certain facts.  I can’t in good conscience state that these relics are abandoned property.”

Spence looked to Jones, who said to his partner, “What was it that Ms. Pryor said we should do if Ms. Kent didn’t see things our way on this issue?”

Spence smiled.  “I believe her exact words were that we “should try to persuade her to see things differently.”  The two men stood and walked around the desk where Jones grabbed Chrys by her right arm and Spence grabbed her left arm.  Simultaneously, they pulled her blazer away, leaving her in her white short sleeved blouse and the skirt which matched her now removed blazer.

She struggled but their grip was unforgiving.  “Wait!  What are you doing?” she protested loudly.

“We’re going to do what your boss advised and persuade you.  Now, move!” ordered Jones who grabbed the duffle bag off the desk with his left hand.

The two men dragged the struggling librarian out of the Reference Room and back into the main hall of the Library.  They pulled her to the location of the hanging floor to ceiling track system in front of a brick wall where Jones held out the duffle bag towards Spence.  Spence unzipped it with his free hand and took two pieces of white nylon rope from the bag.  Jones dropped the bag to the floor and took one of the lengths of rope from Spence.  “She said that this system would be used to display a tapestry,” said Spence.

“I think it can also be used to hang a librarian,” responded Jones.  Then, as if they were of one mind, Jones and Spence each tightly wound their respective pieces of rope around Chrys’s wrists before pulling her arms apart and tying the other end of each rope to the hooks hanging from the ceiling track which were intended to hold aloft the corners of a heavy English tapestry.  When they were finished, they each took two more lengths of the same rope from the duffle bag.  Each man moved behind Chrys, who was unsuccessfully struggling in her wrist bindings, and grabbed one of her ankles.  They gave her ankles the same treatment as her wrists, winding the rope several times around each angle before pulling her legs apart and tying the ends of the rope to the anchors in the floor which would have otherwise served to hold the bottom corners of a heavy tapestry. Finished, they stood back and admired the librarian who was tightly bound in a standing spread-eagle position.

“Let me go!  Untie me right now!” she yelled as she tried to pull at the ropes.  There was, however, very little slack so she accomplished nothing other than to let the men watch as her breasts swayed from side to side when she struggled.

Spence reached into the bag again and took out two pieces of white cloth.  He handed one to Jones and kept the other for himself.  “You’re supposed to be quiet in the Library, Ms. Kent,” said Spence as he balled up his piece of cloth and pushed it into Chrys’s mouth. She tried to dislodge it with her tongue but, before she could, Jones cleaved the strip of cloth he held into her mouth and pulled the ends of it behind her head where he knotted them together.  Chrys could still make noise, but the gag she now wore insured that her cries would not be heard by anyone other than her captors.

“Now, let’s see about persuading her,” said Jones who circled around to face Chrys.  He took hold of her blouse and pulled it apart, sending its buttons flying across the marble floor of the Library.  He left the bottom of the blouse tucked into the top of her skirt but pulled the rest of the blouse open so that Chrys’s breasts were completely exposed.  

“Nice of her to have skipped wearing a bra today,” observed Spence as he reached out and cupped Chrys’s left breast.

“Indeed,” said Jones, who cupped her right breast.

“Ms. Pryor said that she had very sensitive nipples, didn’t she?” asked Spence.

“Yes, she did,” replied Jones.  Simultaneously, both men began to play with Chrys’s nipples, rubbing them between their fingers, pulling at them, pinching them, licking them.  She responded almost immediately to their touch, moaning as her struggles grew weaker while her nipples grew hard.  As Jones licked and sucked on Chrys’s right nipple, Spence rolled her left one with his fingers and fondled her fleshy breast.  After several minutes, and without exchanging a word between them, Spence began to lick and suck Chrys’s left nipple while Jones rubbed and played with her right nipple and breast.  Chrys moaned helplessly behind the gag as she watched the two men tease and molest her breasts and nipples.

“I don’t think she’s been persuaded yet,” said Spence after he lifted his mouth from Chrys’s breast.

“Probably not,” agreed Jones.  “So let’s try a different tack.”  He reached for her skirt and, using a switchblade that he took from his pocket, he began cutting away at the skirt, leaving the skirt around her waist but making a jagged rip which exposed the trapped librarian’s white panties.

Spence smiled as he watched Jones at work.  He then reached into the bag and, as he and Jones stood in front of Chrys, he took out a multi-fronded black leather flogger and a riding crop.  He held both implements out to Jones.  “Your choice,” offered Spence.  Jones took the riding crop, leaving Spence with the flogger.  Chrys stared at them with her eyes opened wide, shaking her head violently from side to side.

Jones drew back his arm and smacked the flat edge of the riding crop against Chrys’s right breast.  She howled from behind the gag and tears welled in the corners of her eyes.  Jones nodded to Spence, who, swung the flogger first at her right breast and then at her left.  She made a muffled cry again as the tears began to flow.  It continued like this for several minutes with Jones alternating strikes of the crop at her left breast and right breast and, for every strike of the crop, Spence struck both of her breasts with the flogger.  After Jones administered precise strikes with the crop at each of Chrys’s hard nipples, he asked, “Do you think she’s persuaded yet?”

Spence shook his head.  “Not yet.”  Jones took his cue but this time, but, rather than swinging the crop at Chrys’s breasts, he lowered it to between her spread legs and then gave an upward flick of his wrist to strike her sex. Chrys shrieked in pain as she watched Spence move in front of her with the flogger.  She shook her head and made muffled pleas from behind the gag, but Spence ignored her.  He didn’t hit her though with the flogger as she expected.  Instead, he move d the handle of the flogger between her legs and rubbed it hard back and forth against her panties.  Almost instantly, Chrys’s breathing became labored and her cries of pain turned to moans of pleasure.  “Ms. Pryor said she was sensitive down there too.”

“Looks like she was right,” agreed Jones as he watched Spence work Chrys’s sex with the handle of the flogger.  After a few minutes, Jones said, “Let me have a turn.”  

Spence stepped aside and Jones began rubbing Chrys’s panties with the long rounded shaft of the crop.  Chrys’s moans increased as she felt the crop rub her sensitive nether region.  She could feel her panties being pushed inside her by Jones’s deft handling of the crop and she blushed as she realized that her panties were going to be damp as a result of this use of the crop.  She closed her eyes and, despite herself, she moaned with pleasure.  She soon found herself trying to grind against the edge of the shaft.  Jones noticed this too and gave her a wink and a knowing smile right before he lowered the crop from her sex and swung it upward to hit her with it again.  She went from pleasure to pain in a matter of seconds, writhing against the restraints which held her in place and left her completely at the mercy of the two men.

The next hour was a blur of pain and pleasure for the helpless librarian as Jones and Spence took turns inflicting intense pain or pleasure to her trapped body.  As one of them rubbed her nipples, the other would flog her sex; as one rubbed her sex with his hand, the other would strike her breasts with the crop or flogger.  In this way, she was constantly moaning with pleasure or crying in pain.  But they were careful enough not to drive her over the edge with an orgasm or make her pass out from the pain. Finally, they stopped and looked at Chrys, who was a sweaty mess with bright red marks on both her breasts and her upper inner thighs.  “I think maybe now she’s persuaded,” said Spence.

Jones looked at Chrys.  “Will you sign the Affidavit now for us, Ms. Kent?”

Chrys hung in her bonds and weakly nodded, mumbling something indecipherable from behind her gag.  She was exhausted, in pain and also in need of sexual relief as a result of the treatment Jones and Spence had inflicted on her.  Broken, she just continued to weakly nod her head up and down.

Spence untied her right wrist from the tapestry hook and pressed a blue pen into her hand as Jones reached into the duffle bag and took out a clipboard with an official looking document attached to it.  It was titled “Affidavit of Chryseis Astynome Kent, Head Librarian, Department of Acquisitions” and it attested to all that Jones and Spence needed Chrys to say in order for them to stake their abandoned property claim to the five bronze zodiac heads.  

“Sign it, Ms. Kent,” instructed Spence.  Chrys did the best she could to legibly sign the Affidavit as the clipboard was held close to her.

“Thank you, Ms. Kent.  We appreciate your assistance,” said Jones, who replaced the clipboard and Affidavit in the duffle bag.  

“But,” added Spence, “Before we go, we want to impress upon you the need for you to exercise the utmost discretion when it comes to our meeting here tonight.”  He reached into the duffle bag and removed several items, handing two to Jones and keeping one to himself.

Jones took the two items – stainless steel clothespins – and clipped them to the base of Chrys’s nipples. She yelled in pain but the gag continued to muffle her noises.  As Jones applied the second peg to her nipple, Spence took his item – a battery-operated Hitachi wand – and, after turning it onto its highest settling, slid the bulbous head of the wand down and into Chrys’s panties, leaving the end of the wand protruding upward under her skirt.  Chrys didn’t know whether to cry from the pain in her nipples or moan with pleasure as the wand brought forth an orgasm from her.

“We will let Ms. Pryor know how helpful you were, Ms. Kent,” said Jones as he picked up the duffle bag and walked to the Library’s entrance.

“And we wish you the best with your grand re-opening,” said Spence as he cast a last look at the beautiful and helpless librarian before he followed Jones out of the Library, making sure the door was locked behind them.

*******

Notes about Treasure Trail:  The idea for this story came to me, in part, from a real lawsuit in which I represented a salvage company back in 1987 that was trying to stake a claim to a sunken ship that contained plunder from China following The Boxer Rebellion (1899-1901).  For a host of reasons, including the eventual running out of money to fund the venture, we did not prevail on our claim and, to this day, as far as I know, that ship and most of its cargo remains buried under sea and sand in the Atlantic.

I did my best to accurately describe the “law of salvage” and the “law of finds” but would-be treasure hunters should not rely on the law as I described it in this story and should hire their own lawyers to give a proper opinion on the state of those laws today.

The British and French did, in fact destroy and allegedly plunder the Old Summer Palace during the Second Opium War in China during the 1860s in retaliation for the torture and execution of diplomats and troops.  Likewise, there was an actual Haiyantang Zodiac Clock with 12 bronze animal heads which were removed at that time from statues around the clock.  Seven of those bronze heads have been located and have sold at auction for an exorbitant amount of money and some of the statue heads have been repatriated to China.  

The remaining five bronze animal heads have never been located to date by the fictional Jones and Spence or anyone else as far as I know.