Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(62)

Matthias took the metal box. It was not very large. He could hold it easily in one hand.

They were standing in Chester’s workshop. They were not alone. Luther and Oliver Ward were also there. Futuro lay in neatly arranged pieces on a drop cloth that had been spread out on the floor.

It had taken hours to untangle the nest of wiring inside the robot. He and Chester had worked slowly and methodically so as to avoid accidentally destroying or overlooking something that might be significant. The metal box had been hidden in the nest of wires that had filled the interior of one of the robot’s aluminum legs.

Luther eyed the box. “Don’t keep us in suspense. Open the damn thing.”

Matthias unlatched the box and raised the lid. At the sight of the four small, wheel-shaped metal discs inside, a whisper of certainty swept through him.

“We just found the missing keys,” he said.

Chester peered into the box. He whistled softly.

“Son of a gun,” he said. “The rotors.”

Oliver Ward studied the discs. Each was marked with a series of letters and numbers.

“I’m no expert on cipher machines,” he said, “but I do know that the rotors are the guts of the things.”

“Yes,” Matthias said. “It’s the wiring inside the rotors that make it possible to swap out the letters and numbers so that messages are encrypted as they are typed. Once you know how a machine is wired, you’ve got a good chance of cracking any code typed on it, or on one of similar design.”

“Pickwell removed the rotors of the Ares and hid them inside Futuro,” Luther said.

“He brought the cipher machine to Burning Cove inside a suitcase that was never out of his sight,” Matthias said. “But he hid the rotors inside the robot. He probably figured that was the last place anyone would look for them. And no one was going to run off with a two-hundred-pound robot. He checked into the Hidden Beach Inn with the suitcase and took it to the Palace. The plan must have involved swapping the Ares suitcase for one that contained payment for the machine.”

“Pickwell probably realized that the moment when the two suitcases were exchanged was the one moment when he would lose control of the deal,” Luther said. “Either he was afraid that he wouldn’t get his money or else he wanted to hold out for more cash.”

“You ask me, I’d say he didn’t change his mind for either of those reasons,” Chester said. He contemplated the various parts of Futuro arrayed on the drop cloth. “Got a hunch Pickwell planned to cheat the buyer all along. Probably hoped whoever grabbed the suitcase wouldn’t realize the rotors were missing until it was too late.”

Oliver glanced at him. “Because, in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to betray his country?”

“Nope.” Chester shook his head. “Because he figured he could create his own version of the cipher machine using those rotors. He probably had visions of presenting it to the government as a whole new encryption device. That way his reputation as a brilliant inventor would have been established beyond any doubt.”

“If the world does go to war,” Luther said, “cipher machines will be a hell of a lot more important than robots that can carry suitcases.”

“The country that controls the most advanced cipher machines will have a huge advantage,” Matthias said. “The inventor of the Ares would have been treated as an invaluable asset. Hell, the government would have set him up in his own lab and given him an unlimited budget. Dr. Norman Pickwell would finally have obtained the fame and fortune that he wanted so badly.”

Oliver looked at Luther. “At least you can be sure that the cipher machine is useless to Smith. No one is going to buy the thing from him, not without the rotors.”

“It’s not just the cipher machine we’re after,” Luther said. “We also want Smith.”

Oliver nodded. “Goes without saying. So, is there a new plan?”

“I’d say it’s past time to work on one,” Matthias said.

“I agree,” Luther said. He headed for the door. “What do you say to a round of golf, Matthias?”

“Great idea.”





Chapter 41


Amalie Vaughn did not recognize him.

A thrill of excitement flashed through Eugene Fenwick. He had to suppress a giggle. It was all he could do not to stare at the Flying Princess. She was at the front desk, greeting the crowd of about twenty people who had arrived for the tour.

It had taken a lot of nerve to sign up for the event, but his new partner, Mummy Mask, had been right, there was no way Amalie Vaughn could recognize him. After all, he had never worked as a rigger for the Ramsey Circus. It was Marcus Harding who had taken that job and selected the flyer. Eugene had killed time doing odd jobs around town while he waited for the final performance.

Still, the thought of coming face-to-face with Vaughn this afternoon had made him very nervous. But now the moment had arrived and it was clear that she did not have a clue as to his identity. Eugene suppressed another giggle. She had actually smiled at him. She did not know it yet, but the two of them shared an intimate connection. She belonged to him.

This was so much more gratifying than poring over the press clippings and advertising posters that featured her picture. Standing less than ten feet away and knowing that he held her life in his hands and that her final flight would be for him and him alone was incredibly intoxicating.