Icy Control (7 page)

Patiently, she peered as best she could. The minutes ticked by. After the third painfully slow pass, Ben seemed to admit defeat. A small click sounded as he turned off the device. The technician stood and heaved a sigh.

“Okay,” Sally said, undaunted, “I have an ultraviolet light. Let me try that.”

The process began again.

This time it only took a few minutes for tiny anomalies to show. Sally put the speed down to them now knowing what they were looking for, and already having an area to focus upon. It was like narrowing down the haystack, there was still a lot to sift through, but they were making progress.

At first Sally thought she was going cross-eyed, but then she realized it was a kind of dot pattern.

“Wait—” She held out a finger, pointing.

At the exact same moment James said, “I think I see—”

They all grinned at each other, George and Tim nodding furiously. Without a word they all leaned in closer, their heads practically touching.

Ben still held the light source out steadily, guiding the wand around as they each showed him what they saw. Brainstorming together, they gesticulated, their voices rising when the excitement mounted in the room—the thrill of discovery.

“…and look up here, these dots in the sky. They’re not original either.”

“Ben, grab that pen and paper you mentioned and I’ll read out the letters to you,” James said.

“I want to get a closer look at these dots,” Sally added, murmuring. They reminded her of something and it was just at the tip of her tongue.

The men bustled about, an eager murmur filling the air as they talked amongst themselves. Like an electric shock, Sally became aware of Rob standing behind her. Significantly taller than her, he peered over her head, his thighs pressed warmly against her, sending a zing of pleasure through her blood.

Sally had frozen, leaning so close to the painting she worried her breath might adversely oxidize the masterpiece, and her nose was pressed against the magnifier. She could tell the second he saw for himself what had gotten them so excited. He raised his eyebrows. Tiny pinpricks of glowing blue light were clearly visible under the small torch she shined on the painting.

“Oh,” he interrupted. “I can see that. All those dots in the sky of the painting. What is it? Morse code?”

“Or a substitution enigma. Maybe a letter-slash-symbol code,” George suggested.

El came forward, squeezed herself up against James and peered with them.

“Tim, can you please go to the storage lockers,” she asked without lifting her gaze from the painting. “I’m pretty certain we have a UV filter for the camera that’s kept somewhere around here. I want pictures of this code and the dots. I know you’ll want copies to study, and Analysis will need them to work on too, but I don’t trust those bastards at the Gallery. They’ll pressure the mayor to put weight on management here and retrieve their painting. Once all that bluster and red-tape is passed, we’ll never get our hands on this beauty ever again, and they sure as hell won’t admit to anything being in the painting, so I want our own documentation kept locked down tight.”

“You know, that appears awfully like Orion’s belt.” James pointed at three glowing dots that were close together at an angle.

“I thought that looked like his body above it, too,” El added.

“It’s not a code,” Sally confirmed. She’d not wanted to say anything, but if both James and El saw what she had, then she wanted to add her weight to their hypothesis and even take it a step further. “Someone has added the constellations. I’d bet that’s a map of the sky from a specific point and date. Ingenious, really, to hide that in plain sight.”

“Could you please go back to the hill? Yes, there,” George muttered while he scrawled notes.

Sally glanced back and forth, from George’s notes to the small section of green background she illuminated with her UV light. In neat dots and symbols, George transcribed the code, making notations of where each series of stars, letters and numbers appeared.

It seemed like gibberish to Sally, but she knew enough about Rob and his work that the analysts he sometimes spoke of in a reverent tone would have a field day with it.

“Don’t these things usually need a key?” Rob queried as George went back and carefully double checked he had the position and sequence exactly right in his transcription.

“Yes, but it’s stupid to not take photos. Surely we want as exact a copy as possible? We’d definitely like to try to crack it ourselves,” Ben replied. “I don’t like our chances of being able to hold onto the painting above a day, particularly not with the level of pressure Waldron is experiencing from all angles right now. If we have our own copies of everything, at least we won’t be behind everyone else. Masters, I know, lives for this sort of stuff. He might be able to crack it, or find the key in the first series of letters—or the last, who knows with these things?”

Tim returned with the camera and a satchel draped over his shoulder.

“I brought all the filters,” he puffed, clearly having hurried back.

“That’s a good idea,” Sally said. “Obviously someone has gone to great pains to carefully add in a vision of the night sky and the coded sequence within the background. I’m beginning to believe they then even paid an exorbitant fee to have it carefully restored after their work was done. It’s logical they could well have hidden the key in here too, but under a different form of light so anyone who stumbled upon one clue wouldn’t necessarily get another.”

“I agree with Miss Langtry here,” James added. “I’d try black light. If that doesn’t work, maybe we could try the full spectrum of colors next—red, orange, yellow, blue and so on. I have access to various sources of those single-rayed lights, if you need assistance. I know most microbiology and chemistry labs don’t usually deal in alternate light sources unless it’s on a small slide under a microscope. And since we’ve already agreed we can’t take samples from the painting, we need the lights to be in a torch. That’s where knowing some art technicians and restorers will come in handy.”

“Do you have them nearby?” Ben asked. “We have most of the filters for the camera and could check the painting that way. But taking so many photos will eat up a lot of our time. If we can look first and only expend effort when we know there’s something to capture, that could speed the process up.”

“I’ve got black light here, but I only brought those three with me—IR, UV and black,” Sally lamented, wishing she’d known they’d be needed. She hated the thought of time being wasted while James went off site to get what they required, particularly when she had them stored safely back at her studio.

“I can have them within the hour.” James cast a quick glance to El.

El nodded at James then turned to Rob.

“I’m going to take you up on that offer to start the report, partner,” she said. “James and I will be back as quickly as we can manage.”

“I can handle that, don’t worry about it. We can follow you out for a moment,” Rob said with a meaningful glance at El.

Sally didn’t need to be a mind reader to know something else was happening in the background, something she’d evidently missed. But clearly Rob wanted to speak to El about something. Sally was about to turn back to the painting, her mind already sifting through the few things she’d held to herself, but Rob caught her eye. He tilted his head to indicate she follow him.

“Oh,” she said and glanced wistfully at the painting. She hated to leave it, especially when she felt certain it held so many more secrets she longed to uncover, but she refused to let Rob down. She took a step toward him only to discover he’d crossed the room to her.

He laid a hand gently on her arm and bent low to speak into her ear.

“If you want to stay that’s fine, but I need to ask a favor. It can wait a short while, though,” he said softly.

“No. No, I’ll come out with you. That’s fine,” she said.

In a sense she was glad. Sally was fairly certain she knew the restorer personally, and while she didn’t want to make a big deal of it out there in the laboratory, she did think it was something Rob and she could follow up on. It was just that simultaneous to this, a part of her had hoped to ogle the delicious artwork some more, too.

Ah well, Sal, can’t have everything, can you, girl?

Feeling faintly guilty at her selfish thoughts—time was obviously of the essence here—Sal left the laboratory, following James and El and with Rob coming up behind her. The door locked behind them with a click. The corridor was empty. El scanned the surroundings and Rob leaned left and right to check none of the office doors were open.

For a brief second, Sally felt like she was in some sort of thriller movie, or perhaps a horror. One where after they split the party up, the ax-wielding maniac started chopping the actors into bloody pieces. She shook her head, mentally berating herself to pay attention.

“Okay, I think we’ve got some privacy,” El stated in a rushed manner as she turned to face Rob. “What’s up?”

“Sal, you recognized the name of the restorer, or forger, I’m still not sure which yet. Vi, I think you said. Darling, I need you to give me that name. James, you seemed to know him too. I’m thinking if you can give El the details on how and where to recover those light sources, then you can come with me to speak to the restorer and—”

“Hang on, Bobby,” Sally interjected, a small frisson of annoyance shaking through her. “That’s the favor you were thinking of a minute ago? For me to just give you an address and name and sit here waiting for you? That connection is far more important than what we’re doing here. Ben, Tim and George are perfectly capable of taking photos and documenting everything we discover in the painting. I’m interested in this case—and involved now. It’s thrilling, finding secret codes hidden in a century-old painting, I won’t pretend otherwise, but neither am I going to let you just leave me back here while you go off and solve the puzzle without me. Besides, you won’t be able to speak to Vicky without me.”

Rob looked from Sally to James. James shrugged.

“I’m not fussed, mate. I needed prodding from Sally, but I, too, thought it was the work of Victoria Parker. She’s one of the best. Been semi-retired these last few years. Although she will take the occasional work when her curiosity is roused, or if it’s an exceptionally stunning piece, she’s not done a lot in recent times. I’m happy to stay with El, meet you both back here.”

Rob and Sally looked at each other. Sally set her jaw firmly, not willing to yield on this unless Bobby had a bloody good reason behind him. So far, he’d shown her nothing that would convince her to stay behind, even though she loved the painting and could happily study it for weeks.

That wasn’t the point.

“Are you sure?” Rob said.

She could already hear the resignation in his tone.

“You were enjoying yourself so much,” he said.

“I’m absolutely sure,” she insisted. “I’ll have far more fun riding shotgun with you. Besides, I want to know who commissioned Vicky to do the piece as much as you do. Not to mention I’m curious as to what it all means, though I think your colleagues in there will work it out one way or the other even without Vicky’s help.”

Rob glanced at El. “When’s the briefing?” Rob asked.

“It was supposed to be eight tomorrow morning, but we’ve all but wrapped up the critical aspect of finding the painting,” El replied.

“Waldron might try and buy us some time to work out what the hell’s going on,” Rob added. “The Gallery has to be in an uproar after having most of its frontage and those landmark columns decimated. Last I heard, the street was still closed down, so they can’t expect us to hand over the Cezanne immediately.”

Sally grinned and cast a laughing look to James.

“I bet we can help with that,” she interjected. “Maybe if you pass along word some specialist contractors are doing routine study of it, that might buy you some time. I’d love to get a private viewing of that piece.”

“We will all need some rest soon,” El continued as if she hadn’t heard Sally.

Sally chuckled, knowing full well Rob’s partner was teasing, not wanting to spur them on any further into mischief.

“I’m lagging on the tail end of my second wind,” El confessed. “With tea, I can write the report, but I’ll need to crash for an hour or two on the cots if we’re going to be here for too many more shifts without relief.”

“I’ve…uh, managed an hour or so of shut eye,” Rob confessed.

Sally looked at the floor to not giggle at this statement.

“How about I start to write the reports when Sally and I get back,” Rob offered. “That way I can include whatever we glean from our interview with this Vicky Parker. I owe you that since it was you and James who recovered the painting and all.”

“Don’t you dare send them out until I’ve proofed it,” El insisted. “I know you’ll lay all the glory at James’ and my feet and it’s no such thing. You worked just as hard with the background work.”

“We can argue about it later,” Rob said.

Sally stifled a laugh. She’d fallen into that trap too often to count. Rob would change the subject and still go along his merry way doing what he felt was best.

“Just don’t leave it till the last minute,” Sally warned. “You know what you get like when you leave those mountains of paperwork until they’re past due.”

Rob groaned. A number of times he’d come over to her flat, a mountain of reports to fill out, and she’d seen him end up still awake in the wee hours of the morning, overdosed on caffeine, jittering at his computer monitor hammering out increasingly incoherent reports because he hadn’t kept abreast of the mundane paperwork.

“I’ll pick up my leather folder and start jotting notes while Sal drives us to her friend’s place,” he promised.

“See that you do,” El replied. “I’ll add in a few addendums for the bits James and I have done, but you promised to write the bulk of the report. I’m holding you to that. Sally here is my witness.”

Sally raised her eyebrows at El, a part of her not wanting a piece of that argument, but willingly remaining silent. James wrapped his arm around El’s shoulders and they turned to make their way down the corridor and out into the main floor of the office area. Sally threaded her arm through Rob’s, feeling sympathy for the poor guy.