Not seeing him in the bathroom, Carmen and Amanda went to the bedroom. When they walked in, he was still nowhere to be seen.
“In here,” said a voice from the walk-in closet to the left.
Upon entering, they found Zane down on one knee with a sheet of paper in his hand. There were several other sheets scattered on the floor around him. At the back of the closet was a small door that was open.
Zane stared at the page for a moment before finally handing it to Carmen. “I found these in the storage space at the back of the closet. The space looked empty at first, until I pulled out my flashlight and saw these placed up against the wall. Whoever put them there didn’t want them to be found. I think it just might be what we’re looking for. The only problem is, I can’t read it. It’s in German.”
Carmen took the sheet from him and began to read. The paper appeared to be very old and was filled was filled with faded script. Her German wasn’t great and the handwriting was sloppy, but Carmen was able to get the gist of what she was reading. After a couple of minutes she broke into a big smile, held the sheet up in the air, and then released it to fall to the carpet.
“What?” Zane asked.
“I don’t think that’s what we’re looking for.”
“What is it?”
“Well, let’s just say it was hidden for a good reason,” said Carmen.
“And what makes you think it’s not important? What’s in there?”
“They’re love letters, Zane. And from the look of the paper, they’re really old love letters. Whoever put them back there was simply hiding it from their spouse.”
Zane stood up and placed his hands on his hips, obviously frustrated that the search had come to a dead end.
“What now?” Amanda asked.
“Let’s talk this through,” Zane said, exiting the closet and moving out toward the hallway.
The three walked back down to the kitchen and took seats around the table. Zane was the first to speak. “I’m sure you did a great job of going through everything, but tell me where you looked. Carmen, you first.”
“I went through every drawer in the writing desk. There was nothing, not a thing. In fact, I couldn’t find anything from Ian Higgs in there.”
Zane turned to Amanda. “Anything in the kitchen?”
“Nothing. I even looked in the freezer. I watched a spy movie one time, and the guy always kept every important thing in the freezer because he said nobody would ever look there.”
Zane leaned back and looked at the ceiling as though it might jar loose some piece of information in his mind.
“Any ideas?” Carmen asked.
“I’m just trying to go back through the letter in my mind. I feel like I know it well, but I wish I had brought a copy with me. I suppose I could log into the Delphi server and—”
“I have a copy,” Amanda said.
Zane leaned up in his chair. “You have it with you?”
“Yep, I keep it with me everywhere I go now.”
She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Zane. The operative stared at it for about five minutes and then folded it back up. “I’ve been through it a hundred times in my mind. There just isn’t anything there.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Carmen asked.
“By all means. I think I’ve been looking at it for too long.”
Carmen took the paper from him and examined it closely. Ross had e-mailed her a copy when she got the assignment, but this time she felt as though she were reading it with new eyes.
Zane watched his partner read. Carmen was sharp and had an uncanny ability to figure things out, but he doubted Higgs had left any hints in the letter. It looked as though someone had gotten here first and picked up whatever he had left.
Suddenly, Carmen’s brow furrowed, and she leaned forward. “Amanda…”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you tell me that your mother bought you that miniature Rosetta Stone as a gift years ago?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, is that what your dad is referring to in the letter?”
“Huh?”
Carmen slid the paper in front of Amanda. “Right here, your father’s postscript.” Carmen pointed to the bottom and continued. “It says, ‘Your mother would be so proud of you as well. I remember the cute little gift she gave you as a child — it turned out to be the key to your career and the key to the future!’”
“Right. That’s what I told you. I don’t see what you’re driving at though.”
“I think this is what we’ve been looking for. I think your dad has written some kind of clue on the Rosetta Stone… which is rather fitting.”
Zane was already walking over to the writing desk as Carmen finished her sentence. He picked up the replica and held it close to his face. It was made of hard plastic and was attached to a square metal base that weighted it down, much like the actual display in the British Museum.
Carmen and Amanda walked over and watched him examine the small object on each side. Finally, he handed it to Carmen. “That was a good guess, and it’s precisely the kind of thing we need to be looking for. Unfortunately I don’t see anything. Dead end.”
Carmen took the object from him and sat down at the desk. She turned on the lamp and examined the replica under the light. After a few seconds she frowned. “Not so fast.”
“What?” Zane asked.
“I think I see something. Amanda, go get me a knife from the kitchen.”
Amanda walked back to the kitchen and began rummaging through one of the drawers. Carmen ran her finger along the edge of the object. “Take a look at this.”
Zane leaned over for a better look. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”
“Look at the edge.”
Zane squinted and then ran his finger along the side of the replica. “Interesting.”
Amanda returned and handed Carmen a steak knife. Carmen stuck it into a seam that ran along the side of the stone.
“Wait!” Amanda shouted.
“It’s fine,” Carmen said. “You’ll see in a moment.”
Carmen kept pushing the knife further in and then began to twist it back and forth. Suddenly there was a loud snapping sound. Amanda jumped and held her hand up to her mouth.
“Thank you, Ian Higgs,” Carmen said, smiling.
“What the…” Zane said, leaning over for a better look.
The replica had broken down the middle and separated into two equally sized pieces. The center of the souvenir was hollow, and a small piece of paper had fallen out of the cavity. Carmen grabbed the paper and held it up to her face. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“What?” Amanda asked.
“It looks like we’re going to Geneva.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Named after the favorite vodka of its Russian owner, the seventy-meter boat known as the Grey Goose sat motionless on the still waters of Lake Geneva. It was nighttime, and the boat was mostly dark, save only for several running lights that illuminated the dark waters underneath.
From a distance, the vessel appeared to be one of the side-wheel paddle steamers that transported tourists back and forth across the monstrous lake, and in its former life, that is exactly what it was. But the aged structure had been modified into a modern freshwater craft, more yacht than cruise boat.
Mironov had spared no expense in bringing about the transformation. He had enclosed three stories of seating and dining space. The third floor served as the central nervous system, with a bridge in the front and a communications post in the rear. The second — deck-level — floor contained a number of meeting rooms, as well as a small kitchen and dining area. On the first floor, below deck, were Mironov’s master suite and other living quarters, all on par with any five-star hotel.