The Fourth Message

The Fourth Message

The Gap — The Zodiac Bronzes

Jack Williams sat at the dining table in the family’s Paris hotel suite, staring at his laptop.

The old Polish mathematics book lay open beside him.

Next to it was the fourth coded message, recovered from the watertight compartment beneath the Smugglers’ Inn.

Nine bronze sculptures had now been discovered.

Three remained.

Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius.

The air signs.

And somewhere in the numbers before him was the location of the final hiding place.

Unfortunately, the numbers made absolutely no sense.

Jack leaned back.

“Link, I hate this thing.”

Duke, lying beneath the table, raised his head.

“THAT IS THE THIRD TIME YOU HAVE SAID THAT TODAY, JACK.”

“Because it’s true.”

“YOUR PERSONAL FEELINGS ARE UNLIKELY TO IMPROVE THE DECODING PROCESS.”

“Thank you.”

“YOU ARE WELCOME.”

Jack examined the message again.

The first two messages had used the mathematics book as a straightforward reference.

Page number. Line number. Word number.

The third message had introduced a modification. Subtract three from each page number before looking up the word.

Jazz had figured that out.

But the fourth message was different.

Subtracting three produced nonsense.

So did adding three.

He had tried shifting the line numbers, changing the word numbers, reversing the groups, and dozens of other possibilities.

Nothing.

The door opened.

Chas entered carrying a cup of coffee.

“How’s the great codebreaker?”

“Terrible.”

“Making progress?”

“No.”

“Wonderful. At least you’re consistent.”

Jack gave his father a tired look.

Chas sat across from him.

“Son, you’ve been working on this thing since breakfast.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you take a break?”

“Because I want to solve it.”

“And staring at it harder will help?”

“It might.”

Chas smiled.

“That’s what I used to tell myself when I was trying to fix something that didn’t want to be fixed.”

Jack looked back at the numbers.

“I know the answer is here, Dad.”

“Of course it is.”

“Someone went to all the trouble of hiding twelve bronze masterpieces in four countries. They built secret compartments, designed mechanical releases, and left these messages so someone could find them.”

Chas nodded.

“They were pretty clever people.”

“Exactly. And now they’re making me look stupid.”

Chas laughed.

“Son, I don’t think that’s what they had in mind.”

Duke raised his head.

“THE DESIGNERS OF THE CIPHER APPEAR TO HAVE BEEN QUITE COMPETENT.”

“Whose side are you on, Link?”

“THE SIDE OF ACCURACY.”

⸻

By the second morning, Jack had written a computer program to test hundreds of variations.

The laptop displayed columns of numbers, possible word combinations, and rejected results.

Nothing had produced a meaningful sentence.

Jazz entered carrying a pastry.

“Still working?”

“Yes.”

“Still losing?”

“Yes.”

She pulled up a chair.

“Maybe you need a different book.”

“No. The book is the key. I’m certain of it.”

“How certain?”

“Ninety-nine percent.”

“That’s pretty certain.”

Jack pointed at the message.

“The numbers are arranged exactly like the others. And the first three messages all used this book.”

Jazz examined the page.

“Maybe they’re doing something different with the threes.”

Jack looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, last time we subtracted three.”

“I know.”

“Maybe this time we subtract more.”

“I’ve tried six, nine, twelve, fifteen. None of them works.”

Jazz took another bite of pastry.

“Maybe they don’t want you to subtract the same number every time.”

Jack considered that.

“Possibly.”

“Well, there you go.”

“That doesn’t tell me what sequence to use.”

“You’re the programmer, Jack.”

She stood.

“Mom and I are going shopping.”

“Again?”

“We’re in Paris.”

“You’ve been shopping for two days.”

“And there are still stores we haven’t visited.”

Jack shook his head.

“Unbelievable.”

Jazz smiled.

“Try not to let the numbers beat you.”

Duke watched her leave.

“JASMINE HAS AGAIN MADE A REASONABLE SUGGESTION.”

“She makes a lot of suggestions.”

“SOME OF THEM ARE QUITE GOOD.”

“Then perhaps she should solve the code.”

“SHE APPEARS TO HAVE OTHER PRIORITIES.”

Jack laughed despite himself.

⸻

By the third morning, Jack was thoroughly frustrated.

The hotel suite was quiet.

Chas and Vicky had gone sightseeing. Jazz had accompanied them, after announcing that she had already visited every interesting clothing shop within walking distance.

Duke remained with Jack.

The old mathematics book lay open at the same page it had occupied the previous evening.

Jack stared at the message.

“Link, let’s start over.”

“AN EXCELLENT IDEA.”

“Forget everything we’ve tried.”

“THAT WOULD BE A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF WORK.”

“Figuratively, Link.”

“UNDERSTOOD.”

Jack examined the numbers at the beginning of the message.

There were four groups separated from the main body.

He had assumed they were part of the cipher.

But what if they were instructions?

He looked at his notes.

The first three messages had each introduced something new.

The first established the book cipher.

The second confirmed it.

The third introduced subtraction.

And now the fourth contained four introductory groups.

Four.

Jack sat up.

“Link.”

“YES, JACK?”

“What if there are four different adjustments?”

“PLEASE EXPLAIN.”

“Last time, we subtracted three from every page number.”

“CORRECT.”

“What if this time we subtract a different number from each successive page number?”

“THAT WOULD BE CONSISTENT WITH A MORE COMPLEX SUBSTITUTION SYSTEM.”

Jack began writing.

“Three was the key to the previous message.”

“YES.”

“And there are three sculptures in each group.”

“ALSO CORRECT.”

“Four groups of three.”

He stopped.

“Four groups.”

Duke raised his head.

“CONTINUE.”

Jack wrote four numbers on a sheet of paper.

He stared at them.

“Four multiples of three.”

“AN INTERESTING POSSIBILITY.”

Jack looked at the first coded group.

He subtracted three from the page number.

Then he looked up the resulting page, line, and word in the mathematics book.

A word appeared.

He wrote it down.

Then he took the second coded group.

This time he subtracted six.

Another word.

The third group.

Subtract nine.

Another word.

The fourth group.

Subtract twelve.

Jack paused.

“Now what?”

Duke tilted his head.

“IF THE SEQUENCE IS REPEATING, THE NEXT ADJUSTMENT WOULD RETURN TO THREE.”

Jack looked at the fifth group.

He subtracted three.

Another word.

Then six.

Then nine.

Then twelve.

The first eight words appeared on his screen.

Jack stared at them.

“Wait.”

Duke sat up.

“WHAT IS IT?”

“These are actual words.”

“THAT IS ENCOURAGING.”

“No, Link. They’re making a sentence.”

He continued.

The next four words fell into place.

Then another four.

Jack’s fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard.

“Three, six, nine, twelve. Three, six, nine, twelve.”

He laughed.

“That’s it!”

Duke stood.

“YOU HAVE IDENTIFIED THE SEQUENCE?”

“Yes! Every fourth group, it starts over.”

“CONGRATULATIONS, JACK.”

Jack leaned back.

“Three days.”

“SEVENTY-ONE HOURS AND APPROXIMATELY TWENTY MINUTES SINCE YOU FIRST EXAMINED THE MESSAGE.”

“Thank you for keeping track.”

“YOU ARE WELCOME.”

Jack looked at the decoded words.

“Now let’s see where we’re going.”

⸻

By the time the family returned, Jack had decoded most of the message.

He was sitting at the table with a broad smile.

Jazz noticed immediately.

“You got it!”

Jack nodded.

“Yep.”

Chas set down his shopping bags.

“Thank God. I was beginning to think we’d have to buy an apartment in Paris.”

Vicky smiled.

“That wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.”

“Don’t encourage him, Mother,” Jazz said.

Duke sat beside Jack.

“JACK HAS SUCCESSFULLY IDENTIFIED A REPEATING NUMERICAL SEQUENCE.”

Chas looked at his son.

“English, please.”

Jack turned his laptop around.

“The code requires subtracting three, six, nine, and twelve from successive page numbers. Then the sequence repeats.”

Jazz frowned.

“Why those numbers?”

“Four groups of three. Four hiding places, three sculptures in each.”

She smiled.

“That’s clever.”

“Very clever.”

Chas leaned forward.

“So where are we going?”

Jack read from the screen.

“SEEK THE CITY OF THE LITTLE MERMAID.”

Jazz looked puzzled.

“The little mermaid?”

Vicky smiled.

“Copenhagen.”

Jack nodded.

“Denmark.”

Chas laughed.

“Of course. Another country.”

“At least it’s the last one,” Jack replied.

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

Jack continued reading.

“THE LAST THREE REST WHERE THE AIR RISES.”

Duke tilted his head.

“AN INTERESTING REFERENCE TO THE AIR SIGNS.”

“Exactly,” Jack replied.

He read the next line.

“FROM WHERE THE AIR RISES, LOOK UP TO TWO.”

Chas frowned.

“Look up to two?”

“That’s what it says.”

“Two what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Jack continued.

“THE SECOND ROOM RESTS UPON THE FIRST LEVEL.”

Jazz looked at him.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Not yet.”

Vicky considered the words.

“Perhaps room number two is on the ground floor.”

“That’s possible,” Jack replied.

Chas looked at the message.

“So we’re looking for another inn?”

Jack nodded.

“That’s what the remaining text suggests.”

He read the final lines.

“WHERE THE KEYS HAVE HUNG THROUGH PASSING YEARS, THE FINAL SECRET WAITS.”

Duke raised his head.

“A KEYBOARD.”

Jack smiled.

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

Jazz frowned.

“A computer keyboard?”

“No. An old-fashioned hotel keyboard. The wooden board behind the reception desk where room keys are hung.”

Chas nodded.

“Those used to be common.”

Jack looked at the message again.

“From where the air rises, look up to two.”

He considered the words.

“Maybe there’s an air vent beneath the keyboard.”

Duke wagged his tail.

“THAT WOULD BE CONSISTENT WITH THE MESSAGE.”

Jack nodded.

“And room number two is on the first level.”

Chas looked at his son.

“Sounds like you’ve got another building to find.”

“Yes.”

“And another owner to convince.”

“Probably.”

Chas sighed.

“Wonderful.”

Jazz leaned back.

“So when do we leave?”

Jack smiled.

“First we have to find the inn.”

Duke sat up.

“I HAVE ALREADY IDENTIFIED SEVERAL HISTORIC INNS IN COPENHAGEN THAT MAY MATCH THE DESCRIPTION.”

Chas looked down at him.

“Of course you have.”

“ONE IS PARTICULARLY INTERESTING.”

Jack turned toward Duke.

“Why?”

“IT HAS BEEN OWNED BY THE SAME FAMILY FOR MORE THAN A CENTURY.”

“That could be useful.”

“AND THERE IS SOMETHING ELSE.”

“What?”

“THE CURRENT OWNER HAS RECENTLY UNDERTAKEN EXTENSIVE RENOVATIONS.”

Chas frowned.

“Renovations?”

“ACCORDING TO LOCAL REPORTS, HE HAS BEEN SEARCHING THE BUILDING FOR SOMETHING BELIEVED TO HAVE BEEN HIDDEN THERE MANY YEARS AGO.”

Jack stared at Duke.

“You’re kidding.”

“I DO NOT KID, JACK.”

Jazz laughed.

“Yes, you do.”

“ONLY WHEN APPROPRIATE, YOUR HIGHNESS.”

Chas looked at his son.

“Well, that sounds promising.”

Jack nodded slowly.

“Maybe.”

Duke continued.

“THE FAMILY HAS MAINTAINED A LONG-STANDING RUMOR THAT SOMETHING VALUABLE WAS CONCEALED WITHIN THE INN BEFORE THE SECOND WORLD WAR.”

Jack looked at the decoded message.

“Then we’ve probably found the right place.”

Chas smiled.

“Good. Maybe this time the owner will know where the treasure is.”

Duke paused.

“THAT APPEARS UNLIKELY.”

“Why?”

“HE HAS REPORTEDLY REMOVED SECTIONS OF THE INTERIOR WALLS, FLOORING, AND CEILINGS WITHOUT SUCCESS.”

Chas stared at him.

“He’s tearing his own inn apart?”

“APPARENTLY.”

Jazz burst out laughing.

“Oh, I have to see this.”

Vicky shook her head.

“That poor man.”

Jack looked at the message again.

“He’s probably looking everywhere except where he should.”

Duke nodded.

“THAT WOULD BE MY ASSESSMENT.”

Chas folded his arms.

“Well, at least I won’t have to worry about Jack damaging the building.”

Jack laughed.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome.”

⸻

Later that evening, Jack sat alone by the window overlooking Paris.

The city lights reflected off the Seine.

The old mathematics book rested on the table beside him.

He had finally solved the fourth message.

Three days of frustration, dozens of failed attempts, and one repeating sequence of four numbers.

Three.

Six.

Nine.

Twelve.

He smiled at the simplicity of it.

Whoever designed the cipher had understood something important.

A good puzzle didn’t have to be complicated.

It only had to make the person solving it look in the wrong direction.

Duke approached and rested his head on Jack’s knee.

“YOU SEEM SATISFIED, JACK.”

“I am.”

“THE FINAL DESTINATION HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED.”

“Yes.”

“THEN OUR SEARCH IS NEARLY COMPLETE.”

Jack looked at the old book.

“Maybe.”

Duke tilted his head.

“YOU SOUND UNCERTAIN.”

Jack nodded.

“Link, there’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

“GO AHEAD.”

“These people didn’t just hide twelve sculptures. They created four secret compartments in four different countries. They designed mechanisms, waterproofed the cases, and invented a series of increasingly difficult codes.”

“CORRECT.”

“That’s an enormous amount of work.”

“INDEED.”

Jack looked toward the river.

“Why?”

Duke was silent for a moment.

“WE KNOW THEY WANTED THE SCULPTURES TO SURVIVE.”

“But why go to so much trouble?”

“PERHAPS THE ANSWER IS WAITING IN COPENHAGEN.”

Jack nodded.

“Maybe.”

He looked down at the dog.

“Link?”

“YES, JACK?”

“Whoever these people were, I think I would have liked them.”

Duke rested his head against Jack’s leg.

“I SUSPECT THE FEELING WOULD HAVE BEEN MUTUAL.”

Jack smiled.

Outside, the lights of Paris shimmered across the water.

Nine bronze masterpieces had been recovered.

Three remained hidden.

And somewhere in Copenhagen, an increasingly frustrated innkeeper was tearing his building apart, searching for a treasure that had been concealed almost a century before.

Jack closed the mathematics book.

He had one more puzzle to solve.

And this time, he suspected the answer was going to be worth far more than money.