Sam and Remi were landing in Berlin, on their way to see Karl and Brand, when Tatiana emailed the photos of the Enigma machine to them. Sam immediately forwarded the photos to Selma. A moment later, Tatiana called. “I have bad news,” she said when Sam answered.
“What’s wrong?”
“The photos…”
“They came through fine. We sent them to Lazlo the moment we got them.”
“It’s not that. It’s Nika. The Guard got to her.”
“Hold on,” he said, “I’m placing you on speaker so Remi can hear.” He pressed the button. “What happened?”
“They got to her the night of Viktor’s shooting. They threatened to kill her family if she didn’t turn over anything she found out.”
Remi looked up at Sam, saying, “Her family? Did anyone check on them?”
“We sent agents out. I haven’t heard back. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out until after Nika sent a photo of the Enigma machine’s wiring to Leopold. She’s been in touch with them from the moment you left the hospital at Wrocław.”
“So every time I updated you,” Sam said, “she forwarded that information to Leopold. The Guard knew our every move.”
“Exactly. From the furniture maker in Münster to the trip to the castle with the key.”
“Clever,” Sam said. “Letting us do the legwork. Forewarned, forearmed. Since they have the information from both tins and the Enigma machine wiring, we have to assume they’re on the same trail.”
“What are you going to do?” Tatiana asked.
“Not much we can do until Lazlo finishes working on the Enigma code. In the meantime, we’re meeting up with Brand and Karl to see what they’ve found. Something to do with the logbook.”
“That’s good,” Tatiana said. “Neither Rolfe nor Leopold know about the logbook.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way. We’ll keep in touch.”
Brand and Karl seemed amped up on coffee when Sam and Remi arrived. “You have to see this,” Karl said, drawing the two to the dining room table, where butcher paper covered the entire surface, charts and notes written across most of it. “We’ve gone over every page of the logbook. Most of it’s standard, but in the margin toward the end someone wrote ‘Strassmair has it’ next to the letters RR, which are circled.” He picked up the book, opening it to show Sam. “We’re guessing that RR stands for Romanov Ransom.”
“No doubt,” Sam said. “Strassmair, though… that’s one of the names we heard recently.”
“Königsberg castle,” Remi replied. “The table, with his signature on the orders for the trucks to remove the treasure.”
“That’s what it was.” Sam glanced at the chart drawn on the butcher paper. “What’s all this?”
“The ratline trail,” Karl said.
Brand dug through a small stack of papers, pulling one out. “Strassmair is on one of the lists of Nazi officers suspected of escaping through the ratline. It’s possible he ended up in Spain. We’re going through our research papers now, trying to trace his route from there, but we’ve hit a dead end.”
“At least it’s a start,” Sam said, reading the notations on their chart. “What else do you have?”
“This,” Karl said, showing Sam the logbook again. “Right after the notation RR. What if it’s the key to those two letters?”
Sam eyed the book. “What do you mean?”
Karl pointed to a notation underlined. “First.”
“First what?” Sam asked.
“Brand thinks it refers to how the code should be read.”
Remi looked over Sam’s shoulder, taking everything in. “Does Lazlo know?”
“We just spoke with him. Now that he has the photos of the Enigma machine, he’s going to take another look.”
And, sure enough, Lazlo called fifteen minutes later. “The boys were right,” Lazlo said. “The notations in the logbook are the key on how to read the coded letters. Now that we have everything set in the Enigma machine, it didn’t take long at all. It was the first letter of each sentence.”
“What did you translate?” Sam asked.
“That we know where the Romanov Ransom was taken.”
“Where?” Sam and Remi asked at the same time.
“South America.”
Sam exchanged glances with Remi, asking, “Any chance you can narrow it down? That’s a big continent.”
“Argentina.”
“That fits,” Brand said. “A lot of Nazi war criminals ended up there.”
Sam quickly looked over the pages of the logbook, wondering if there was anything they’d missed. “Lazlo, what are the chances that Rolfe and Leopold know this information without the logbook in their possession?”
“Assuming they aren’t somehow already in possession of this knowledge? After all, they certainly seem to know what the tins are for.”
“Good point.”
“It’s really only a matter of time,” Lazlo said. “Anyone with the least idea on how cryptology works has probably already tried deciphering the first letters of each sentence. I certainly tried it. Of course, it didn’t work until you recovered the Enigma machine settings. And now that they have those—”
“How?” Karl said. “I thought—”
“A long story,” Sam said, turning to the last page of the logbook, where Strassmair’s name was circled. “I’ll let Selma tell you. Right now, I’d like you and your brother to concentrate on finding out whatever you can on this Strassmair person.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Where he was from, any family he had. In other words, anything that will help us pinpoint where in South America he might have gone.” He closed the book, placing it on the table. “In the meantime, it looks like our next stop is Argentina.”
“What about Rolfe and the Wolf Guard?” Remi asked.
“Let’s hope they’re not as astute as Lazlo is at deciphering codes.”