“It’s too much of a coincidence,” he said, gazing across the top of his big brandy snifter at Janice the grave robber, Ernest the celebrity impersonator, and a rough-looking woman in brightly colored pants with too many pockets who said her name was Bonnie. “They are plucked from the sea and taken to the very island we’ve been looking for. I don’t like the odds of that one bit. It feels like a setup.” “How could it possibly be a setup?” Janice asked. “No one knew where this island was. That’s why everyone was looking for it in the first place! And you said yourself you wanted them to find it first.” Sir Edmund snorted and didn’t answer. He stood and paced across the thick carpet on the floor of his cabin. He studied a large wall map and twirled the end of his mustache with one hand, swirling the brandy in his glass with the other. Ernest and Janice waited patiently for him to finish his thoughts. Bonnie, however, did not. “So when do I get my revenge on Big Bart?”
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