The Voynich Cypher

CHAPTER 26

“Moody. Give me some good news.” Natalie cut to the chase in typical fashion, the pay phone held against her ear.

“We need to meet, but not at the hotel. I haven’t been able to get hold of Danny, so I’m assuming the worst. Are you nearby?” Moody asked.

“Yes. Pick a spot and tell me when. We’ll be there,” Natalie said.

“The Arch of Constantine, by the Coliseum. Twenty minutes?”

“See you then.”

It was just after midnight when they arrived, but there were still groups of tourists taking photos in front of the famous illuminated marble arch, memorializing for posterity that they had been there, in the shadow of greatness. Steven shifted his bag from his left shoulder to his right and tried not to check his watch every two minutes. After what seemed like an eternity, Natalie nudged him with her elbow. A tall, ruggedly handsome man with closely-cropped silver hair moved cautiously towards them, his shoulders squared with a military bearing. Natalie gave him a big hug, which he accepted with a slightly embarrassed look, and then turned his attention to Steven. Steven extended his hand.

“You must be Moody. I’m Steven.”

“A pleasure. Mind if we walk while we chat?” Moody said, clearly not asking.

“Love to,” Steven responded.

Natalie hefted her bag, and Moody took it from her, lifting it with ease. They strolled unhurriedly away from the Coliseum, its ancient presence hulking in the background. Moody reached into his jacket pocket and handed Natalie two phones.

“Merry Christmas. Those are clean,” Moody assured them. “I did some checking. The police interest in you is increasing, and I don’t think I’d wait for it to escalate. We have a safe house in Mestre, just across the lagoon from Venice, I can make available until things cool down. There’s no countrywide alert, and nothing’s gone to Interpol yet, but there’s no telling how this plays over the next few days. Now, would you mind telling me exactly what you’re into here, so I can get a better handle on it?”

Natalie glanced at Steven and then gave Moody a summary, omitting only that they were close to solving the puzzle of the Voynich. Steven and Natalie had discussed how much disclosure to make, and they’d agreed that if Steven had a positive reaction to him, they’d give Moody all the data. The jury was still out, so Natalie kept to their agreement.

“Hmm. A centuries old secret sect of the Catholic Church is after you because of a document your father came into possession of, through questionable means, the ‘liberation’ of which was financed by a billionaire who will stop at nothing to beat them to the punch. Is that about right?” Moody asked dryly.

Natalie frowned. “Put that way, it sounds crazy, but let’s not forget someone killed Frederick, and Danny’s gone missing — and there were a couple of goons waiting for us this evening. Plus, we were followed in Florence and only got away because Steven took one of the pursuers out,” Natalie reminded him.

Moody studied Steven’s profile as they continued their walk.

“You’re quite resourceful. What’s your background?” Moody asked Steven.

“I’m an entrepreneur and amateur cryptologist. But I’ve been doing martial arts for years, so I’m pretty handy when it comes to close quarter self-defense.”

“I’ll say. Any military service?”

“A few years. Wasn’t for me,” Steven said, wanting to end the inquiry there.

“What do you make of this situation?” Moody pressed.

Steven stopped and turned to him. “I thought Natalie was nuts when she first came to me. Then I had a chance to look over the parchment, and it was as she described. Before long, we were being chased. That’s more data in her favor. But seeing Frederick stabbed to death outside of the church was the clincher. We’ve stumbled onto something very important to the groups Natalie is convinced are involved, and they’ll do anything to recover their treasure and protect their secret. Whether or not it’s worth killing for doesn’t matter if they believe it is,” Steven said.

Moody nodded slowly. “I’ve known her for a while, and I trust Natalie’s instinct on this.” Moody turned to her. “Get out of Rome now. You’ll be safe in Mestre, and if you need to travel, you’ve got plenty of choices. Between Venice and Milan, there are flights anywhere in the world. I’d say, drive to Mestre before the cops start paying real attention, and we’ll figure it out from there. Make sense?”

“Perfect sense, as always,” Natalie said deferentially. “Might be easier if we had a car, though.”

Moody handed her an envelope. “Inside are directions and an address for the house, a key, and the valet stub for a black Alfa Romeo at my hotel. Wait half an hour before picking it up. It’s got a full tank of gas, and all the paperwork’s in the glove compartment. Registered to a corporation in Genoa.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going to stick around Rome for a day or two and see if I can figure out what happened to Danny. Then I’ll meet up with you in Venice. I’ll call before I show up on the doorstep. If you drive fairly fast, you should be able to make it in seven hours.”

“Thank you so much, Moody. You’re a lifesaver,” Natalie said.

“You’d do the same for me, so no sweat.” He looked morose. “I hope you’re wrong about what you’re up against. Last time I checked, the Church swings a lot of weight, especially in Italy. Although I find it hard to believe they’d resort to murder…”

“That was probably Frank’s people. I have no doubt he killed my father. He’s got a reputation as a ruthless and mercurial businessman. Towards the end, my father wanted less and less to do with him,” Natalie explained.

“No point in belaboring it. I’ll see what I can find out. You two drive safely, and we can touch base once you’re at the safe house,” Moody said, glancing around casually to ensure they weren’t under surveillance. He handed her back her bag.

“Nice meeting you,” Steven said, trying for enthusiasm.

“Likewise. Hang out here for a few minutes, playing tourist. I’m headed to the hotel.”

With that, Moody forked off onto a path leading back to the Coliseum and blended quickly with the foot traffic. Natalie slid the envelope into her purse.

“What’s your problem with Moody? Or do you just ordinarily suck at meeting new people?” Natalie asked.

Steven was taken aback. Was it that obvious? He framed two or three defenses in his mind.

“Sometimes it takes me a while to warm up to people,” he said simply.

“You better accelerate the process. If you didn’t notice, he just saved both our asses.”

“Without putting too fine a point on it, mine wouldn’t need saving if you hadn’t gotten me involved,” Steven fired back.

Natalie stopped walking. “I suppose you think Frank would have just invited you for tea when he found you? Do you still not get this? It’s nobody’s fault. Sometimes things happen. This just happened to you. You can either mope about it and alienate my closest allies, or get your shit together, knock off the dick thing, and play nice,” Natalie warned.

“The dick thing?” Steven repeated.

“Two males in the same sandbox, threatened and unsure of each other. We don’t have time for this. If you don’t mind, lose it.”

Steven had no snappy rejoinder to that. Natalie was right. Worse, his dislike for Moody stemmed from the idea that maybe in the past he’d been intimate with Natalie. Which was juvenile bullshit. It wasn’t as if Steven was dating her. True, he thought she was hot, and smart, and very, very sexy. But lust wasn’t the same as having a claim. Her point was completely valid — it was time to knock off the attitude.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Natalie resumed walking. “Wow. He admits when he’s made a mistake. There may be hope for you yet,” she said and picked up the pace, leaving Steven to play catch up.

They killed time ambling around the arch and down several of the boulevards, and after the agreed-upon half hour Steven dutifully presented the valet stub to the attendant at the St. Regis. They’d agreed he would collect the car and then pick her up a block away, on the off-chance anything unexpected occurred during the process. Thankfully, there was no drama, and after paying the equivalent of thirty dollars in parking fees and tip, he was ensconced behind the wheel of the small sedan, wheeling his way to Natalie. He pulled to the curb to a symphony of horns behind him, and she quickly slung her bag into the rear and climbed into the passenger seat. Moody had been thoughtful enough to include a road map of Italy in the glove compartment, and after a few minutes of battling their way out of downtown Rome, they were on the freeway to Mestre, the lights of the capital receding in the rearview mirror as they sped to their next hiding place.

Steven was anxious to decrypt the Scroll, but knew that it was more important to get them out of harm’s way. Besides, it wasn’t the kind of project he could do in a moving car with dim lighting. He needed a controlled environment to first absorb all the glyph combinations and decode the Scroll, and then make sense out of whatever it said. He was under no illusions that it would be a finger snap, but a part of him had the familiar buzz of excitement he felt when he was getting close to solving a puzzle. Whatever the Scroll was hiding, soon he would be one of the few people in the world to have ever known it.

He wondered silently what terrible secret could have been worth spending centuries to protect. In the end, it was useless to speculate.

Glancing at the dashboard clock, he calculated that if they were lucky they’d make Mestre by nine a.m..