If this were the case, she had her work cut out for her. They would have to decipher the letter to Heike before anyone else could somehow destroy the information. If they could locate and apprehend the rare book Purdue asked for, they could get their hands on the Heike letter and cover up its important contents.
Considering the horrible week Purdue had suffered thus far, Nina had relatively good news. Up in the attic, as she told Sam, she had discovered a few other journals written in much the same vein. Being a woman of considerable intelligence, Nina had managed to use several sources in this collection to ascertain the method used to encode in this manner. In other words, she had figured out how the cipher worked.
When she entered the gateway to Purdue’s property, she could not help but give the security people a bit of attitude. They knew her. They knew that she was part of Purdue’s inner circle and they dared not piss her off, but she made sure they bore the brunt of their dismissed colleague’s indiscretion.
“I hope next time you bother to get of your fat asses and call the house before you turn people away,” she sneered. The two men at their post held their tongues. In fact, they had to. There was no excuse for what had happened or how it was handled. The supervisor nodded to Nina. “You bet we will, Dr. Gould,” he assured her. “That is why he lost his job. Our protocol holds that unannounced callers who insist should at least be reported to Mr. Purdue’s assistant.”
“Good. I hope that whips up the rest of your people,” she said. “We don’t need sloppy security in our line of work, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the two men sang as they opened the gates for Nina. She parked her car just as the downpour started. Nina cowered to the front door, where Charles had just opened it.
“Welcome back, Dr. Gould,” he recited.
“Thanks Charles,” she grunted, bearing forward to avoid the lightning.
Under her arm she clutched a leather binder, containing some journal pages and occult books from her attic. The books would fetch exuberant prices if collectors knew of their existence, but much of Purdue, Sam, and Nina’s ventures relied on secrecy. Between the three of them, they possessed millions worth of documents, information, and artifacts. But nobody could ever know. Their treasures were rarely ever for riches. The items they hoarded were objects of wisdom, power, and mystique — subjects better not entrusted to those with the financial power to purchase them.
“Where is Purdue?” she asked.
“He has gone to fetch Mr. Cleave, madam,” Charles reported. “May I suggest you wait in the dining room? I have the fire going in the fireplace.”
“Sure. Sounds great,” she huffed as she pulled off her coat and handed it to the butler. “Why not the drawing room?”
The butler looked awkward, for once, and cleared his throat. “Mr. Cleave’s cat was sick all over the couch and we are in the process of cleaning the upholstery, madam.”
Nina laughed heartily. “Oh shit, I knew this house wasn’t cat proof. Where is the sweetheart, by the way?”
Charles normally had a face of fixed expression. His countenance could usually make a wax mannequin look alive, but he seemed especially pale and rigid now. “He is in kitty hospital, Dr. Gould.”
Nina’s smile vanished, although her face betrayed that she thought he might be jesting.
“He is where?” she asked.
“We had to take him to the vet, Dr. Gould,” Charles reiterated. “It appears that he had been… poisoned.”
Nina knew he was not the kidding type, and this would be a rather silly attempt at a joke, she thought. “Wait, really?” she pressed. “He was poisoned? What, rat poison or something?”
The butler shook his head. “It is quite odd, in fact,” he explained. “The doctor asked if Mr. Cleave’s cat had been… bitten by a snake.”
Sam lost all color in his face at the butler’s testimony. Purdue was right behind him, and heard the same shocking detail. When Charles saw the two men in the kitchen doorway, he visibly jumped back, holding his hand over his mouth. Naturally, he did not hear them enter the house from the one of the back doors of the kitchen area.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Purdue,” he apologized.
Sam turned, suspiciously looking at his friend. “Why is he apologizing to you?”
Purdue shrugged. “I told him not to tell you that your cat is sick, Sam. But I swear to God it is the first I hear about the snake poison.”
Sam accepted the explanation and went to greet Nina with a hug and a kiss, as did Purdue. The three of them gathered at the bar for some medicinal bevies while Charles handed his boss the official written prognosis.
Purdue read it aloud. “The animal exhibits at least three symptoms of poisoning, including incoherent movement, twitching muscle and vomiting.” He looked up at Nina and Sam. “I have no poison in the house. The walls of the residence are lined with infrasound devices that repel insects and vermin by means of subsonic pulses.” His companions looked horrified, urging him to elaborate. “No, it is not what you think. The currents are regulated only to disturb the biology of smaller lifeforms. I designed it myself, to influence the physiology of rats, mice, and insects.”
“What about cats?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“Come now, Sam. Infrasound and snake venom are two distinctly different dynamics. I don’t have to tell you that,” Purdue defended. Sam took the veterinarian’s report and read through it. The toxicology section yielded a plethora of basic scientific jargon he knew, like oxygen, hydrogen and the like. But there was something he had never seen before.
Traces of Phospholipase A2 were detected — possibly fatal in sufficient amounts.
“That is true. There must be another explanation,” Nina concurred. “Can I have an Irish coffee, please?”
“Of course, my dear,” Purdue replied, getting behind the bar to whip one up for Nina. Charles appeared at the door.
“Then where would he get bitten by a snake? Does your system cover reptiles?” Sam asked again. This time he had a valid question. Purdue shook his head. “No.”
“Maybe you should get Wildlife in here, then?” Nina suggested. “They would have to comb this place for snakes. My God, even as I say it, it sounds preposterous.”
Charles appeared at the door, already looking exhausted from the adversely adventurous day he was having. “Mr. Purdue, Dr. Harris is here to see you, sir.”
Purdue jumped, looking excited. “Tell him I will be right there, Charles. Nina that is the tissue analyses from the Nazi remains.”
“Excellent,” she replied as he briskly walked out of the room.
“I guess telling him that I can decipher the Heike letter can wait,” she scoffed. She opened her arms to Sam. He looked devastated and lost, and he welcomed her embrace.
“I swear I’m going to have a wee cry, Nina,” he mumbled in her neck.
“So cry,” she said. “This is your roommate we are talking about, your fur family. I would be extremely emotional too.”
“I’m not extremely emotional,” he quickly denied, typical of the tough Scot in him. “I’m just worried about my cat.”
“We all are, love,” she whispered, running her hands gently through Sam’s hair. He relished the sensation. He missed it more than he would ever admit to her.
In the other room, Purdue and Harris were discussing the results and at once, a yelp from Purdue peaked Nina and Sam’s interest. They heard them approach the bar room, and promptly unlocked their arms.