Grace and Disgrace (9 page)

“Do you make it a practice to leave your flat unlocked?” asked Tuohay. Eliza started, her keys clattering to the floor.

“Jesus, Jack.” Eliza stared at her friend. “Are you trying to frighten me to death?”

“There are far more efficient ways to dispatch of someone than fright,” replied Tuohay.

Eliza bent down for her keys. Her cheeks were flushed, but she kept her composure as she straightened up. “I assume this is not a breakfast call.”

“I am afraid not. You were out all night, I take it?”

Eliza stood facing Tuohay as if unsure of how to answer. Finally, she laughed and pulled her coat off. Casting a sidelong glance at him, she sank into an armchair. “I have a private life, you know.”

“Point taken.”

“In case it is not painfully obvious, I am a solitary woman who lives on her own. And as you may have guessed, my neighbors do not approve. Nor do my friends, or old classmates at Radcliffe, colleagues, strangers, you name it. First in New York, and now here.”

Tuohay rubbed his eyes. “Breaking the mold, as they say.”

“Is that what it’s called?” A loose strand of hair fell across her eyes. “Jack, what are you doing here? And I don’t think you want to hear what my imagination is coming up with.”

“No, I do not suppose that I do,” Tuohay admitted. “I apologize. I realize this is highly inappropriate.”

Eliza smiled despite the concern in her eyes. “Yes it is. Now what is it about? You have me worried.”

“I doubt that what I say next will dispel that notion.” Tuohay paused. “I came here to make sure you were safe.”

“And why is that?” Her tone was suddenly careful.

There was an intruder in my room tonight—last night, that is. You get my meaning.”

Eliza’s eyes widened. “While you were
there
? Asleep?”

“Yes. But I woke up, to both his and my chagrin, I assure you.”

“Did you get a clear look?”

“Not clear enough to positively identify him—or her. I gave chase but he escaped. I then came directly here, for I am certain if he was in a bother about me, he will not leave my closest colleagues alone.”

“What about John?”

“Eldredge went straight to his mum’s and is returning in the morning, so I am certain he is fine. However, now that I see that you are safe, I plan on checking his apartment.”

“You are sure this intruder is connected to the case?”

“Coincidences, my dear Eliza.”

Eliza frowned thoughtfully at her shoes, and as if an afterthought, slipped them off. “Right.
There are no coincidences
. Your favorite turn of phrase.”

A gentle light filled the room as Eliza turned a gas lamp on, and Tuohay regarded her for a quiet moment. Her azure evening dress was slightly rumpled, the gold lace along the hem and sleeves gleaming in the new light. Her lipstick had been wiped clean save a few traces at the corners. Her hair, jauntily rouge, had been set into a rising swirl of interlaced braids, many of which had unraveled and now hung as wayward curls. A scent of lavender touched his senses softly.

“I have just now realized how truly scandalous it is that I am present here.”

Eliza laughed again. “Good old Jack. Never one for social etiquette.”

“So…you are well? Last night was…good? You have a friend? Or friends? A group of actors, you said?”

“Stick to what you are good at, Jack.” She smiled softly. “But I appreciate your invented interest. I am well enough.”

“You are… involved?”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Gads, Jack.”

“My apologies.”

She curled her legs under her. “As luck has it, one of my plays is running at the Boston Athenaeum. I tend to spend time with the cast. Especially the understudies. They are the ones in the most need of guidance.” Her eyes twinkled.

Tuohay shook his head. “Yes, of course. The
understudy
. I am sure he, whoever he may be, appreciates your guidance.”

“And
that
is where I draw the line.”

“As you should.” Tuohay cast her a tired smile. “How about the work itself? It is being seen, then?”

“The new penname helps,” she said. She took a small bow from her sitting position. “Presenting R. L. Wilding. As you know, we cannot have a woman writing dramas for the stage. Too fragile and all of that. R.L. Wilding is a presentation of strength, resolve, and depth. Everything expected of an artistic man.”             

“So who is your ghost writer? Do I know him?”

Eliza threw a pillow at Tuohay, who deflected it in midair.

“Quite the jester,” she said.

“I picked up a few pointers across the sea.” A sudden pain stiffened Tuohay’s leg, and he rubbed it with a grimace. A slight wheeze followed his sentences. “My lack of rest appears to be catching up with me.”

“Are you really surprised by that, in your state?”

“Very little surprises me.” Tuohay reached into his pocket and pulled out a clove cigarette. Producing his lighter, he lit it and sighed as the pain slowly eased. “Tell me, have you ever ridden in an automobile? I just had the pleasure.”

Eliza’s face brightened. “You drove here?”

“I was driven here, rather, and am pleased to have the experience over with.” Tuohay noticed her eyeing the cigarette and bent forward.

“What was it like?” She reached across her chair and took the offering. “You really ought to quit these,” she remarked after a long drag.

“I believe my life was more at risk in the automobile than it was with the intruder.”

Eliza cast him a crooked smile. “I’ll bet.” She handed the cigarette back.

Tuohay rubbed his temples. He could feel the beginnings of a headache setting in. “Would it be too much of an imposition if I asked to take a short rest here? I will be on my way to Plymouth in a few hours.”

“Sorry, all booked up.” 

Tuohay eyed her skeptically. “In that case I should ask Eldredge if I could stay with him and his mother. A nice long rest in the country would do me well. Only a few days in and this case already seems to be wearing on my senses.”

“From what John has told me, she is a very nice lady. I am sure you would be welcome there.”

Tuohay chuckled. “Well, it is good to know that at least one house will take me in without protest.”

“It is only because she does not know you very well.”

Tuohay took a drag of his cigarette. The cloves tasted wet in his mouth. “You always did know how to cheer me up, Eliza.”

The horse-drawn carriage jostled along the Old Coast Road, the early New England spring framed in the smudged glass of the carriage window. Beyond the window stretched an affectionately pale landscape of green glens crowned with pleasant houses and quaint beach cottages, all sharing a view of the frolicking maiden that was the cold eastern sea. The window was slightly ajar, allowing in the slightest mixture of sea-air and early spring blossom. They had been at the road for several hours now, having passed by the rolling blue hills of Milton, the bustling shipyards of Quincy, the wildlife-rich marshes of Cohasset, the sheltered beaches of Scituate, and finally the mansions of Duxbury into Kingston.

It was just the two of them at the moment enjoying the hazy light of the late spring day as it filtered through the window in stark contrast to the dark interior of the carriage. Eldredge had been agape by Tuohay’s tale of the intruder, and the two spoke at length of possible motives and identities for the culprit. The former discussion point ended clearly at the codex, but the latter was gray mystery, save the unlikely prospect of Kip Crippen.

The journey had been several hours of such conversation and wanderings of the imagination as both men peered out beyond their secluded transport. They were alone on the three o’clock horse-drawn to Plymouth, and by Tuohay’s silver counter it was just after five. Despite the availability of two more popular routes, the Plymouth and Kingston Street railway out of the newly constructed South Station and the cheaper Number 6 trolley-to-ferry route embarking from North Quincy, the choice of the carriage had never been in doubt. It had been Tuohay’s prerogative that they take the horse-drawn express. Eldredge had offered up a valiant but doomed argument for taking the railway, which would have been far more comfortable and expedient than their current vehicle, but Tuohay would have none of it.

“My dear friend,” Eldredge had said as the two met outside the hotel, his eyes peering down the busy thoroughfare in the direction of the City Point railway station, “Plymouth is not exactly a short jaunt from Boston. The Plymouth and Kingston is a well-respected rail. It will get us there in a quarter of the time that an old horse-drawn can.”

Tuohay leaned against his cane. “Why the rush?”

“It is not a matter of rushing,” replied Eldredge. “It is a matter of
expediency
. Of
efficiency
. Would our time not be better spent at our destination than in transit?”

Tuohay produced a long-stemmed cigarette from his coat pocket and rolled it in his fingers. “Do you know anything about the Old Coast Road?” he asked.

“I have heard of it,” shrugged Eldredge.

“It is the road that connects Boston to Plymouth.”

“Well, there is also now a
railway
that connects Boston to Plymouth,” said Eldredge.

“Let me get to the point,” said Tuohay, wrinkling his nose at Eldredge’s remark. “A road such as the Old Coast Road is like an old grandfather rich with lore. It is a painting of the times that were, times now being bypassed by mechanical steam engines and electric gadgetry.” Tuohay lit his clove cigarette and held it in his fingers after an initial drag. “Imagine the Old Coast Road first as an Indian path, following the coast and skirting along the base of the great hills, crossing rivers and streams on its way. As time progresses and civilization forms, the roads are cleared and taverns appear for weary travelers to wet the dry gullet. Coach lines are established that run with dust rising from their wheels as their passengers gaze out upon the same sea that the Indian had gazed upon not so long before. But the passengers’ eyes now fall on shipyards, inns, and cottages. It is more than just a shaky blur passing them by through the window of a fast-moving locomotive.”

“You are no stranger to the locomotive,” said Eldredge, regarding his friend skeptically. “And will take one again, I am certain.”

“Allow me this one pleasure,” Tuohay said, placing his clove cigarette in his mouth and tugging on his gloves. “Life is not meant to be economized. It is not meant to be passed through using the most direct route from A to B. Life is about observation. And one cannot observe if he is stuck in a cramped seat with life blurring by.” He nodded at the approach of a horse-drawn carriage. “And that, my friend, is why we are
not
taking the railway today.”

Body of Police Victim

Vanishes from Harbor

Questions abound about a cover-up.  Foreign Intrigue suspected in Search for Templar Diamond. Boston Authorities deny taking orders from Scotland Yard.

Eldredge set the paper aside with a sigh. “At least
we
are not mentioned in the article.”

“There is time yet,” said Tuohay. “But we best keep our heads about us. We do not need the press following us about.”

“Of course,” acknowledged Eldredge. A thoughtful silence passed between them for a moment. “Jack, a question.”

“Yes?”

“Do you believe Miss Hart? That she had an affair with Father Donnelly? That he had something to do with the theft of the diamond? The man is a pillar of society, an advisor to the archbishop himself. An expert physician. A Renaissance Man. Why resort to theft?”

“What could be more enticing to a man of genius than to put his gifts to the ultimate test? The Templar Diamond heist was no mere theft. It was a work of brilliance.”

“So you believe Mary, then?”

“I believe there is truth to her words. But we will need more than belief to solve this case. Ah, speaking of which.” Tuohay pulled a note from his jacket pocket and handed it to Eldredge, who procured a pair of wire-rim glasses in response. Setting them on the crook of his nose, he examined the note.

mnrwtcwagooxsevthzxeaoptxboevxhktyhwtasrsevthzxnvohgkhzrtdcayelerzsbxmsifmxlfojhvhyreazqltrvdznxxiniagopsugrwtcjrxsfwdxobsvytilstgkdefthqtthec

“Where did this come from?”

“It appeared in my coat pocket the night we interviewed Sara Conall. If you recall, she asked if she could wear my coat due to the chill. A somewhat odd request, since we were inside. She must have slipped this note in the pocket just before giving you my coat back, with the code book wrapped in it.”

“Another code,” Eldredge mused.  He looked up at Tuohay. “Have you deciphered it?”

“No. Care to try?”
Eldredge accepted the challenge with a thoughtful frown. “More secrecy.”

He turned back to the code and studied it intently. Mumbling to himself, he took out a pencil and small, leather-bound notepad and began to make notes. The long silences were broken by bursts of ‘ah ha’ and ‘yes, yes.’ The scratch of the pencil did not cease, even when he was staring at the code, his eyes averted from the pad. Finally, Eldredge set the pencil down, leaving only the sound of the carriage wheels crunching along the dirt road.

Tuohay leaned forward. “Do you have it?”

Eldredge patted his forehead with a lavender handkerchief. “I do.”

Tuohay glanced at his pocket watch. “Nine minutes, and we’ll say forty-five seconds.”

“You were timing me?”

Tuohay tapped Eldredge with the end of his cane. “You still have it.”

Eldredge handed the note to Tuohay. “It was quite a simple code, as you surely suspected. Though I got surprisingly fortunate in my attack on it. It’s simplicity indicates that the codemaker was not well versed in the practice. A novice, really.” He pointed to a few spots in the code. “From my review, I was fortunate to discover two recurring sets of letters. They are underlined, as you can see.”

mn
rwtc
wagoox
sevthzx
eaoptxboevxhktyhwtasr
sevthzx
nvohgkhzrtdcayelerzsbxmsifmxlfojhvhyreazqltrvdznxxiniagopsug
rwtc
jrxsfwdxobsvytilstgkdefthqtthec

“Yes, I see them—‘rwtc’ and ‘sevthzx’.”

“This recurring pattern indicates that the key to the encryption is repeated. Therefore, it is not likely to be a random string, nor a long phrase, but a word that is repeated over and over again for the length of the message. Due to the fact that it is repeated, it happens to fall across the same plaintext a few times, giving us the necessary clues to solve it.” Eldredge looked up at Tuohay. “Figure out the word, and you have figured out the key. Figure out the key, and you have figured out the message.”

“You performed a letter count between the common terms?” The carriage shivered as it hit a large divot in the road, but both men ignored the brief interruption.

“Precisely. Since there are combinations of letters that are repeated in the coded message, it is likely that these are in actuality repeated
words
in the un-coded message, or plaintext. The fortunate circumstance of the words cropping up like this means that the key fell across them in the same manner, thus the encrypted version was also identical.” Eldredge pointed at his notes. “There are twenty-eight letters between the coded letter combinations ‘sevthzx’, and one-hundred and five letters between the coded letter combinations ‘rwtc’.”

“I will take your word for it.”

“Since the key is matched in an identical fashion with the matching code words, it must also fit perfectly
between
each code word. In terms of numbers, the key must be the length of the gap between the code words, or a factor of that gap.”

“In the case of ‘sevthzx’, the key needs to be twenty-eight characters long, or a factor thereof. Is that what you mean?”

“Correct,” Eldredge continued, his voice warm. It was clear he was in his element. “And with ‘rwtc’it must either be one-hundred and five letters, or a factor thereof. Assuming there is one key, of course, we must find the common factor.” Eldredge pointed to his scrawl on the note pad.

Factors of 105: 1, 3, 5, 7, 15, 21, 35, 105

Factors of 28: 1, 2, 4, 7, 14, and 28

Common factors: 1, 7

Keyword is 7 characters long

“Then some guess work began based on the facts in hand. The letter was given to you by Sara Conall,
fact
. Based on the condition of the paper, and the fading of the ink, I surmised it was not recently written—at least not as recently as a few days. Eliza is the expert on forensic graphology, but I picked up some basic skills.”

“So not a fact, but a deduction. And we did not see Sara Conall plant the note in my coat pocket, so that is not technically a fact.”

“Fair enough. Either way, I made the assumption this note may also be linked to the codex. But if so, where did it come from and who was its intended recipient? I realized that line of thinking was short sighted, so I took a different tact. What if the note actually
belonged
to Sara? Or what if it was written by her, and intended for you? What names would be associated with her? Or with us? Of course her late uncle came to mind.”

“A reasonable assumption.”

“One must start somewhere.” Eldredge pointed to his notes. “Based on the little I know about Sara Conall and her late uncle, Father Aiden Kearney, I thought about mutual themes. What do the two individuals have in common? Would they pick a key along some kind of common theme? As novices, which seems plain, I thought a common theme likely. Nine times out of ten that is the way of it.”

Ireland

Boston

Religion

Catholic

Kearney

Niece

Uncle

Priest

Truth

“Any one of those was simply a starting point. The key was likely seven letters, remember. I briefly tried the few on the list that were actually seven letters, such as Ireland or Kearney, but to no avail. Realizing the time commitment to continuing with this line of thought, I reflected. Were there any other quick ways to attack this—and one method came to mind. Father Aiden Kearney.”

“Meaning?”

“Keeping in mind that I am trying simple solutions first, I made an assumption that this is a coded
message
to
Sara, most likely from her deceased uncle.
That
is where I got fortunate—my assumption was correct. And as a letter, even a short one, it was possibly signed by him. I tried employing versions of his name to the last words of the letter, and—to my great astonishment—was successful.”

Again Eldredge pointed at his notes. “I tried F.K, Father Kearney, Uncle Kearney, Uncle Aiden, and Aiden. The latter exposed the key.”

Assumption: Last five letters in the message = Aiden

Plaintext (P): aiden

Ciphertext (C): tthec

aiden (P)…[C] tthec…key ?

(A) 19 corresponds to key letter T

(I) 11 corresponds to key letter L

(D) 4 corresponds to key letter E