Page 80 of Tightrope

“He brought the cipher machine to Burning Cove inside a suitcase that was never out of his sight,” Matthias said. “But he hid the rotors inside the robot. He probably figured that was the last place anyone would look for them. And no one was going to run off with a two-hundred-pound robot. He checked into the Hidden Beach Inn with the suitcase and took it to the Palace. The plan must have involved swapping the Ares suitcase for one that contained payment for the machine.”

“Pickwell probably realized that the moment when the two suitcases were exchanged was the one moment when he would lose control of the deal,” Luther said. “Either he was afraid that he wouldn’t get his money or else he wanted to hold out for more cash.”

“You ask me, I’d say he didn’t change his mind for either of those reasons,” Chester said. He contemplated the various parts of Futuro arrayed on the drop cloth. “Got a hunch Pickwell planned to cheat thebuyer all along. Probably hoped whoever grabbed the suitcase wouldn’t realize the rotors were missing until it was too late.”

Oliver glanced at him. “Because, in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to betray his country?”

“Nope.” Chester shook his head. “Because he figured he could create his own version of the cipher machine using those rotors. He probably had visions of presenting it to the government as a whole new encryption device. That way his reputation as a brilliant inventor would have been established beyond any doubt.”

“If the world does go to war,” Luther said, “cipher machines will be a hell of a lot more important than robots that can carry suitcases.”

“The country that controls the most advanced cipher machines will have a huge advantage,” Matthias said. “The inventor of the Ares would have been treated as an invaluable asset. Hell, the government would have set him up in his own lab and given him an unlimited budget. Dr. Norman Pickwell would finally have obtained the fame and fortune that he wanted so badly.”

Oliver looked at Luther. “At least you can be sure that the cipher machine is useless to Smith. No one is going to buy the thing from him, not without the rotors.”

“It’s not just the cipher machine we’re after,” Luther said. “We also want Smith.”

Oliver nodded. “Goes without saying. So, is there a new plan?”

“I’d say it’s past time to work on one,” Matthias said.

“I agree,” Luther said. He headed for the door. “What do you say to a round of golf, Matthias?”

“Great idea.”

Chapter 41

Amalie Vaughn did not recognize him.

A thrill of excitement flashed through Eugene Fenwick. He had to suppress a giggle. It was all he could do not to stare at the Flying Princess. She was at the front desk, greeting the crowd of about twenty people who had arrived for the tour.

It had taken a lot of nerve to sign up for the event, but his new partner, Mummy Mask, had been right, there was no way Amalie Vaughn could recognize him. After all, he had never worked as a rigger for the Ramsey Circus. It was Marcus Harding who had taken that job and selected the flyer. Eugene had killed time doing odd jobs around town while he waited for the final performance.

Still, the thought of coming face-to-face with Vaughn this afternoon had made him very nervous. But now the moment had arrived and it was clear that she did not have a clue as to his identity. Eugene suppressed another giggle. She had actually smiled at him. She did not know it yet, but the two of them shared an intimate connection. She belonged to him.

This was so much more gratifying than poring over the press clippings and advertising posters that featured her picture. Standing less than ten feet away and knowing that he held her life in his hands and that her final flight would be for him and him alone was incredibly intoxicating.

Mummy Mask was one scary son of a bitch but he was also a very smart guy, maybe even smarter than Marcus Harding. Mummy Mask understood why Eugene liked to watch a girl fly to her death. It was the ultimate circus act.

Eugene had hoped that Vaughn would conduct the tour but another woman, a pretty blonde who said her name was Willa, took charge.

“You are standing in what used to be the living room of the mansion,” Willa said. “It was here in this richly paneled and elegantly furnished room that Madam Zolanda drank a pitcher of martinis before she went up onto the roof. You will note the fine furniture that is now enjoyed by guests of the Hidden Beach Inn. Many of the pieces were imported from Europe. The crystal chandelier overhead came all the way from Ireland and is considered priceless...”

Eugene shuffled forward with the rest of the gawkers. He did not give a damn about the fancy furniture and the big chandelier. He was here because his new partner had insisted that he take the tour in order to get a good look at the inside of the house. The idea, according to Mummy Mask, was that if he got an idea of the layout of the inn, he would know where he was going when he came back to grab the Princess. It was just the kind of thing Marcus would have suggested.

Yep, Mummy Mask was smart, so fucking smart that as soon as he had found the bundles of press clippings in the suitcase, he had figured out that Eugene had been Harding’s partner. Mummy Mask had put it all together in a matter of seconds.

Terrified, Eugene had first denied the connection to Harding. But when Mummy Mask had laughed and said he understood how thrilling the final performances of the flyers must have been, Eugene realizedthat he had found another kindred spirit. The guy in the mask was like Marcus Harding, only so much smarter.

“If you will follow me up the stairs, I will show you Madam Zolanda’s bedroom, where you will see her costumes arranged just as she left them on the night of her death,” Willa said, leading the way toward a grand staircase. “We will also visit the room of the doomed inventor who dared to play Frankenstein.”

Two figures appeared on the balcony, heading for the stairs. The man in front was elegantly attired and possessed a famous face. The crowd gasped in excitement. There was no mistaking Vincent Hyde. Eugene was as thrilled as everyone else. A real live movie star was staying at the Psychic Curse Mansion.

Hyde was followed at a respectful distance by a heavily tattooed man dressed in a leather vest studded with metal, black trousers, and leather boots. His shaved head gleamed in the light.

Willa never missed a beat. She beamed at Hyde.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hyde,” she said. “I trust you are enjoying your stay here at the Hidden Beach Inn.”

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