"Okay, first things first," said Harding as I poured coffee into a chipped mug. Pieces of eggshell floated on top and I dredged them out with my finger. "How's Miss Seaton?"
"Pretty good, considering," I said, trying to sound confident. "Bruised quite a bit, and still a little woozy."
I didn't tell them what I hadn't told Rita either. That Diana had been pretty lively back in Bone until she almost blew her brains out. Maybe it had been shock, maybe the drugs, or both. I hoped.
"She will be all right?" asked Kaz, leaning in and speaking quietly.
"Yeah, I saw her a few minutes ago. Still groggy, but she'll be fine."
"Good," declared Harding, closing the subject of personal relationships. I wondered how he and Gloria Morgan were doing. He didn't give me a chance to ask.
"I notified HQ about the new penicillin shipment. It's traveling by ship to Oran and then by train to Algiers. It's coming by rail because the Luftwaffe has been targeting vessels entering Algiers harbor. It's a big shipment, twenty cases, which is about eighty percent of the entire world supply at the moment."
Kaz whistled.
"How much would it be worth?" I asked.
"It's invaluable," answered Harding. "Which means a lot of money."
"And no one at this hospital thought it worth mentioning, after the first supply was stolen?" I asked.
"You find out about that, Boyle, when we're done here. Who knew, and why didn't they speak up?"
"Yes, sir. I assume you've added security for this shipment?"
"Damn right. It's being guarded like the crown jewels."
"And when is it due here?"
"The train from Oran will arrive at 0300 hours tomorrow morning. A truck will bring the shipment of penicillin from the station to the depot here, to be parceled out to field hospitals the next day. I've got a platoon of Rangers on the train with it now. They'll guard the truck until it leaves here."
"I think, sir, that we should keep the existence of our extra security quiet for now."
"Why?" asked Harding.
"Because someone went to a lot of effort to hide this delivery from us, and maybe from the rest of the hospital staff. Villard may be planning to hit the truck en route. He'd have time to get away with a fortune in penicillin before anyone even knew it was gone."
"So we let him have a go at it?" Harding asked, as if I had just gone around the bend.
"We shouldn't tip our hand too soon. We might have a chance to trap him and his accomplices."
"How?" asked Kaz, as he dumped sugar into his coffee.
"We keep quiet about the Rangers guarding the penicillin for now. If we let the information out late tonight, whoever is working with
Villard will try to get word to him. We have to watch the phones, to see if anyone tries to get to the radio, or whether someone leaves the hospital for no reason. Then we'll have them."
"And if his inside person doesn't manage to get word out, Villard will still try to hit the truck."
"Yes sir. That's why I want to be in that truck when it makes the pickup."
Harding eyed me, trying to figure out what was going on. I didn't usually volunteer, and with Diana safe here, he probably thought I'd be angling to stay put. He started to say something but stopped as a couple of officers sat down at the table next to us.
"I'll think about it," he said in a low voice. "Meantime, we'll keep it zipped about the escort. Lieutenant Kazimierz, you work on this." He produced the notebook that I had given him last night. Kaz flipped through the pages. He frowned.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"I am not certain, but this looks much more complicated than the other code you showed me. That was actually a substitution cipher, really not a code at all."
"What's the difference?" I asked.
"Ciphers are different from codes. When you substitute one word for another word or sentence, you have a code. When you mix up or substitute letters, you have a cipher. You can also combine codes and ciphers by substituting one word for another and then mixing up the result. There are two types of ciphers also. Substitution ciphers replace letters with other letters or symbols, keeping the order in which the symbols fall the same. Transposition ciphers keep all of the original letters intact, but mix up the order. Of course, you can use both methods, one after the other, to further confuse anyone who intercepts the message."
"I'm confused," I admitted. I had stopped following his explanation before he was half done.
"Look here," said Kaz, warming up to his subject. "These last pages do seem to be the same shorthand cipher we saw before. The words look intact. But here, on these pages, the letters are all in five letter groups. Here, there are just numbers in groups of three, separated by a dash. 45-16-4, 109-22-26, 8-31-38, and so on. No logical order.
Whoever set this up used a number of different techniques, and then used the substitution cipher for quick messages."
"When we're done here, find a quiet place and work on it," Harding said.
He didn't like it and neither did I. We had both thought deciphering the contents of the notebook would be a quick fix to a tough problem. It would allow us to bring evidence to Ike of corruption at high levels within the Vichy French regime here, a reason to clean house. But it wasn't going to be that easy.
"All right, Boyle, tell us what you found out in Bone," Harding said, leaning back and sipping his coffee.
I told them about Le Bar Bleu, but not the room upstairs, or the fact that I'd burned the place down. I told them about the depot, finding Diana, and how I got the notebook, but not about shooting Mathenet in the foot. I told them about The Crossroads being the code name for the detention center in the desert, to which Villard now had moved the last of his slave laborers and his hijacked supplies, waiting for the highest bidder. Germans, Arabs, the Mafia, everyone on the wrong side of the war or the law was probably itching to get their hands on the new wonder drug. I didn't tell them about promising Diana I'd get the rest of the prisoners out of his hands, since I had no idea how I could pull that off. By the time I finished figuring out what to leave in and what to leave out, I had only one question left. I refilled my cup with hot coffee and took a doughnut. Reporting is hard work.
"You know the thing that bothered me was how Villard and Bessette got this smuggling operation set up so quickly, as if they had known ahead of time about the hospital being opened here and even about the penicillin and how valuable it would be."
"Right," said Harding. "What did you come up with?"
"I think I have it figured out. Bessette's family is involved in shipping between Algeria, France, and Portugal. I bet they use the ships for smuggling as well. He has a brother, Jules, who lives in Blackpool, England, where the 21st General Hospital was posted before being transported here. It'd be easy for Bessette to send a letter with a sailor going to Portugal with instructions to hand it off there to someone on a neutral vessel headed for England. When that sailor arrives, he simply mails the letter at a local post office."
"Because the British censor international mail, but not internal mail," Kaz said, nodding his head.
"What about getting information back to Algiers?" Harding asked. "That wouldn't be so easy."
"It wouldn't have to be done the same way," said Kaz, quickly. "They could have set up a simple code, word for word. Jules could write back, 'My good friend, John, will be visiting London in three weeks.' That could actually mean someone named John would be in Algiers in six weeks, depending on whatever previous arrangement they made for signifying numbers and places."