Monk was dead.
Well… not dead, but this was certainly the first time Barbossa had seen one of his crew so thoroughly… dismantled.
It was clear that someone didn't want him to talk. He must have seen something. That was Barbossa's conclusion.
He hadn't been gone more than a couple of minutes and now Monk was in pieces, stuffed into a sack and tossed out like garbage.
"Nobody heard anything? Nobody saw anything?" Barbossa interrogated. He was answered by a bunch of shaking heads. "How?!"
"We don't know, captain!" Hawksmoor jumped to the defense of his comrades. "I was the first to notice, since I was closest to the door. I heard it open, followed by the thump of the bag hitting the deck. It wasn't more than a second before I turned around, and the door was shut tight again at that point."
"And you didn't think to check inside?" Barbossa asked in faux calm.
"Of course I did, sir!" Hawksmoor claimed. "The door was locked!"
That brought Barbossa up short. "Locked?"
Hawsmoor nodded hastily.
"You're telling me that whoever picked that lock open also picked it shut again in the time it took you to check?" Barbossa clarified.
"I suppose they must have," Hawksmoor seemed to understand how flimsy that sounded, because he was shrinking in on himself. "I didn't even stop to check the bag before I tried the door, captain. I knew it couldn't have been you, and I knew that Monk shouldn't have a key."
"That's right, he doesn't," Barbossa confirmed, pulling out his ring of keys. "I have the only key to my quarters, right here. Which means, they must have picked the lock. I can accept that a particularly skilled thief might have picked it open in a minute or two, but I can't accept that they did it again in seconds."
Hawksmoor was quiet. He glanced around, clearly hoping that someone would jump to his rescue, but no such thing happened.
"M-maybe we should just ask the Turner girl, sir…?" Hawksmoor suggested quietly.
"Aye, I think that'd be wise," Barbossa concurred. He wasn't done with Hawksmoor yet, but he couldn't afford to punish him while he was this angry. If he took it too far, he'd upset the crew. Barbossa was under no illusions that, as strong as he was, his crew wouldn't revolt if they thought he was being unfair.
As for why Barbossa didn't just check his quarters right away?
What would be the point? He already knew what he'd find; the Turner girl and no one else. Jack had more than enough time to slip away by the time Barbossa arrived.
Barbossa unlocked the door and stormed inside. He was prepared to bombard the obnoxious girl with questions, but he paused at what he saw.
She was sitting on one of his waist high bookshelves, staring out the window with a far off look on her face. Her knees were pressed up against her chest with both arms wrapped around them. As clear a sign of genuine distress as he'd ever seen.
The fact that this was the first time she was acting like this grated on him somewhat. Wasn't he also a big, scary pirate?
"You ready to talk now, girl?" Barbossa announced himself, causing the girl to jerk in surprise. He hadn't been very quiet in barging in, so it was telling that she only noticed his presence now.
She stared at him, almost blankly, for a few moments. "... I thought he was trying to help me."
Barbossa grabbed hold of that lifeline with all his might. "Jack, help you? That cur only knows how to help himself. If you trust him, it's only a matter of time before you end up like our poor Monk, or worse."
She shuddered.
Oh, Jack, you've dug your own grave. Now he was going to bury you in it.
"Tell you what, Miss Turner. I might have been a bit rough with you to start with, but if you let us know everything he says to you from now on, I think we can make better arrangements," Barbossa said. "I'll post one of my most polite men at the door. If you see Jack again, just give a whistle."
*boom*
Barbossa let out a growl without intending to. That sounded like a cannon, and he'd bet a chest of Aztec gold that it wasn't pointed out at open water.
"Remember, whistle!" Barbossa reminded the girl. He waited until she nodded to show she understood before making his way out again.
"Bo'sun!" Barbossa called out.
The large dark skinned man stepped forward. "Captain."
"Round up a few good men and watch the door. Don't go inside unless you hear a whistle," Barbossa commanded, though in a polite tone.
Bo'sun was his first mate and the only man on the crew that could actually give him a good fight, one on one. He was also very loyal, or else Barbossa would have gotten rid of him not long after Jack.
"Aye, captain," Bo'sun assented and moved to find a few crewmen that had more than two brain cells to rub together, and strong arms to back it up.
Barbossa left the man to his task and went below deck to figure out what the hell Jack was up to.
…
Cherry watched Barbossa with amusement as he stomped down below deck to find her handiwork.
She wondered how many times she could get him to run back and forth chasing her tail before he gave up. She reckoned she could get him to do it three or four more times.
"What the hell…" Barbossa muttered to himself as he watched a couple of pirates scramble to plug a cannonball sized hole taking on water in the lower hull.
It was kind of pathetic how easily she could get a hold of a whole ass cannon, drag it down a level, and fire it. Sure, they were pirates, but even lazy marines had better ship security than this.
Barbossa hadn't even set up proper patrols in response to her pranks, let alone have any as standard practice!
It must be because they were undead. They thought they were invulnerable so they didn't bother guarding against anything but other ships. Hell, most of the crew hangs out on the top deck!
"This isn't Jack's work…" Barbossa spoke to himself.
Oh? Now that caught Cherry interest. Enough so that she was tempted to reveal herself just to ask. Guys like Barbossa love showing off how "clever" they are, so there was no doubt that he'd explain with the smugness of a false god.
But, no, now wasn't the time to show herself. She wouldn't do that until they at least reached their destination.
Sadly, Barbossa didn't air all his thoughts out. He did take out the compass and have a look at it again, though.
"You left this for me to find on purpose, didn't you?" Barbossa spoke to no one in particular; or perhaps he was speaking to Cherry, betting that she was listening. "You knew I'd recognize it, and that I'd make assumptions as to its function. It's a trap, to lead me where you want me to go."
'Not really,' Cherry thought. 'It's pretty funny that you think so, though.'
It'd be even funnier if Barbossa threw it away without realizing that it was actually useful for him, just out of paranoia.