No Place Like Rome Page 13

  Elvis shot him a dirty look. “Dork.”

  Xavier shrugged, too busy admiring Basia as she did a couple of yoga moves to stretch out. After a moment he sighed and leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his neck. “Well, I worked the rotation angle. I rotated everything six ways to Sunday and found zip.”

  We all looked hopefully to Slash who shook his head.

  “I looked for significant clues or meanings to the items in the painting. I didn’t find anything that made sense. I did track down the type of camera used to photograph the painting. It’s a high-end digital SLR camera with interchangeable lenses, mostly likely a Hasselblad H4D-60, one of the most expensive digital cameras in the world. Costly, but the purpose is photographing priceless works of art after all. It’s no coincidence they are using this same camera for cataloguing the digital inventory in the Vatican archives. Therefore, it’s a logical extrapolation that they’d use this for the secret archives, too.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “So, why the heck is a painting hidden in the depths of the Vatican secret archives? How secret should a painting be? Maybe I’ve been wrong all along and I overlooked something else on Serafina’s hard drive.”

  Slash pushed away from the terminal and went to the French doors that led out to the balcony. He pulled open the doors and stood looking out at the ocean. After a minute, he turned around. “No. You took the right files, cara. Whatever we need, it’s either in this painting or it’s connected with it.”

  Elvis nodded. “I’m with Slash. There has to be some major significance to this file. That was no ordinary encryption. It’s one of the heaviest I’ve ever encountered and I’ve encountered plenty. There’s definitely something up with this painting. We just can’t see it yet.”

  I liked how he added yet to the end of his sentence. If it were here, whatever it was, I knew Elvis would find it.

  “Okay. Then what’s next?” I stood and touched my toes, stretching out the muscles in my back and legs.

  Slash sat back down at the terminal and flexed his fingers. “We keep looking. All of us.”

  * * *

  Exhaustion set in a few hours later and Basia insisted we take a break for dinner. Technically we were no closer to discovering the mystery of the photograph than when we started. Xavier had designed a program on one of the smaller clusters to run some algorithms to determine if there were any unusual patterns in the pixel placement and to analyze the lighting. He checked on it occasionally while we all sat on the floor of the suite, around a large glass coffee table. We dined on excellent Italian food ordered from room service. There was zuppa di cozze, a fish soup, and scaloppini di Vitello, delicious breaded scallops. Several bottles of superb Italian wine accompanied the dinner and I drank more than one glass, seeing as how my best friend and social director sat next to me. I felt a lot more relaxed knowing that I could count on her for proper guidance, plus it was beyond unlikely I’d be left alone with anyone to make a fool of myself. Besides, the wine loosened me up a bit, made me a little less mentally rigid. Sometimes that worked for me in terms of ideas. Bank fraud, dead bodies, and a painting with a naked lady could take a hike, at least for a while.

  Xavier asked Basia her favorite line from a movie. She scrunched up her forehead, thinking. “That’s a hard question.”

  “I know mine,” Elvis said, lifting his wineglass. “It’s from The Matrix when Morpheus is talking to Neo, trying to convince him to leave the artificial world and enter reality. He says, ‘You’ve felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong with the world. You don’t know what it is, but it’s there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.’”

  I nodded with approval. “Excellent.”

  “Here’s mine.” Xavier put a hand on his chest. “‘I’m putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.’”

  “Hal, the computer,” I said, smiling. “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

  Tito lifted his wine glass. “Can anyone guess this?” He deepened his voice and added an Italian accent. “‘I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.’”

  “Sweet.” Elvis clinked his wine glass with Tito. “Don Corelone in The Godfather.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ve got mine.” Basia stood up, swaying a bit and then taking a dramatic stance. “‘The world...is my oyster.’” She collapsed, giggling. I started laughing as well.

  “That’s not from a movie.” Xavier frowned.

  “No, it’s not.” Slash set aside his wineglass and stood. “Shakespeare. The Merry Wives of Windsor.”

  I looked at him in surprise. Slash knew Shakespeare? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, he apparently knew everything about anything, regardless of language, country or culture.

  Basia fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Come on now, Mr. Dark and Mysterious. It’s your turn.”

  “I don’t have time to watch movies.”

  “Don’t be a party pooper,” she insisted, tipping her wineglass toward him, the wine sloshing. “You’ve got to have at least one.”

  I thought he’d ignore her, but instead he looked over at me, his expression darkening. In a spot-on imitation of Humphrey Bogart, he said, “‘Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.’”

  He said it with such perfect emphasis and emotion that everyone was struck silent.

  I spoke first. “Wow, Slash. That was un-freaking-believable. An amazing impersonation of the late, great Bogart. If the national security thing doesn’t work out, you would be a great voice talent. Right, guys?” I looked around the room.

  Basia cleared her throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Ah, sure. Great movie, that Casablanca.”

  Slash gave a slight bow, walked over to the balcony and stared out into the darkness. Basia looked at me and raised an accusing eyebrow, as if I could magically interpret the meaning of that. When I gave her a puzzled look, she frowned, which left me wondering what the hell had just happened.

  Elvis abruptly stood and disappeared into his room. Tito started chuckling as Xavier grabbed the bottle of wine, filling up his glass. Sighing, I picked up my wine and took a large gulp. Why was I always the clueless one during social conversations? Even the twins seemed to have sensed something. I’d have to ask her later for a translation, if we had five minutes alone to talk. Something had just killed the mood and apparently I was the culprit.

  Xavier topped off Basia’s wineglass and asked me if I wanted more. I shook my head. My buzz was fading. Slash stared moodily out the window, Elvis had gone, and I didn’t feel like playing any more. I was tired and discouraged that we were making so little progress on the painting. It had been so freaking hard to crack open and the payoff had been...nothing.

  Basia took another sip of her wine and sighed. “Okay. I admit it. I cheated. My favorite movie line is really from Moonstruck when Nicholas Cage tells Cher that he—”

  I sat straight up. “Wait, wait. Did you say Nicholas Cage?”

  Basia looked at me. “Yes. As in the actor.”

  I smacked my forehead. “Nicholas Cage. That’s it.”

  “What’s it? Lexi, are you drunk?”

  “National Treasure.”

  “Sure, it was an okay movie for an action/adventure, but it’s important because...?”

  I bolted to my feet and raced over to the computer. Slash looked away from the window, watching me. I sat down, my hands flying over
the keyboard. Slash came to stand behind me and Xavier and Basia crowded around, as well.

  “Lexi, what on earth are you doing?” Basia asked.

  “Give me a few minutes.” I created a copy of the photo and flipped it.

  Slash’s fingers curled over the back of the chair, pressing into my back. His warmth steadied me as I slowly began to transpose one photo on top of the other.

  Xavier leaned closer. “What are you doing, geek queen?”

  “She’s superimposing.” Elvis spoke. He’d apparently returned to the room and came to stand by my right side. “Ingenious.”

  I shrugged. “Only if it works.”

  Basia frowned. “Superimposing? I’m a translator and I still don’t know what you guys are talking about. Can someone please speak freaking English?”

  Xavier patted her arm. “She made a copy of the photo and is putting it on top of itself.”

  “If she puts the same picture on top of itself, how will that help? Won’t it blend into itself?”

  I opened the original photo file. “It won’t blend if I flip the copy first.”

  “Flip?”

  “Turn it backwards. Then superimpose it.”

  “Optimum.” Elvis leaned closer to the monitor, studying the photo as well.

  “Okay, so do I have to be the one to ask the obvious question first?” Basia lifted her hands in the air. “What on God’s green earth does any of this have to do with Nicholas Cage?”

  I grinned in spite of myself. “National Treasure, the movie. Cage starred in it. Don’t you remember when he was searching for the mythical treasure, he found clues in historical artifacts like the dollar bill and the Declaration of Independence?”

  “I’m still not following.”

  “He transposed, superimposed and manipulated images in order to reveal clues hidden in historical artifacts by the very people who created them. When you said ‘Cage’ it reminded me of the movie, and then it reminded me of the strategies he took to uncover the clues hidden in historically important items. Superimposing, for example. It’s a simple but an effective way to hide an important clue in a photo or an image. More importantly, it wasn’t that hard to do even back in older times. All you had to do was use a mirror.”

  Xavier whistled. “You really think this might work?”

  “You got a better idea?”

  “Not at all.”

  “So, let’s give it a shot.”

  I slid on my glasses and kept my hand steady on the mouse as I slowly pulled the other photo across.

  “It needs to go a little to the left.” Elvis pointed to a red, red, green pixel set.

  I followed his instructions and dragged it left. After another minute, the photo was flipped and fully superimposed over the original. “Alright.” I exhaled a breath I hadn’t know I was holding. “Let’s take a look now.”

  I magnified the photo to about 500 percent and everyone leaned over to peer at the screen. Slash murmured to himself in Italian while we went micro inch by micro inch across the screen. I stared so hard, the colors started to bleed together. Twice I had to close my eyes to clear them.

  After a few minutes, Xavier cried out.

  “Upper left corner.”

  I immediately zoomed in and saw what he was talking about. My heart leapt as I clarified the picture. Numbers. It was series of freaking numbers.

  Xavier whooped and Elvis gave me a high five.

  I swallowed hard. “Holy Batman. We’ve found the Grail.”

  Xavier slapped me on the back. “We’ve got more than the Grail, Lexi. We’ve got numbers.”

  My heart soared. This hotel suite, at this very moment in time, most likely contained the world’s best brains in terms of cracking numbers and code. To say that numbers were our forte would be a severe understatement.

  Slash leaned down and gave me a kiss on cheek. “Damn good work, Lexi.”

  “We all did it.” I stood up from my chair, smiling like a freaking idiot.

  “No, you did it,” Elvis corrected. “Good thinking.”

  Xavier jotted down the numbers and held them up for our scrutiny.

  Tito held up his hands. “Okay, now you are all way past me. I’m not sure what just happened.”

  “Me, neither,” said Basia.

  I barely heard them. My focus was hot on those numbers. My brain searched, discarded and manipulated those numbers, looking for a pattern that made sense. Then just like that, I had it. Still, I had to be sure.

  After a minute, Xavier shook his head. “Nothing is jumping out at me.” He set the paper with the numbers down next to one of the laptops. None of us needed the visual anymore. We all had them memorized in a variety of different configurations. “Shall I run them through a program?”

  Elvis picked up a pencil and began to jot down something. “Not necessary. Not yet anyway.”

  Slash also studied the numbers intently. Nobody looked at me. I glanced between the guys, wondering if I should say what I thought the numbers meant. I didn’t want to appear immodest, especially in the presence of some of the most brilliant minds in the world, but I’m pretty sure I already knew what they stood for.

  Slash glanced up at me and lifted a dark eyebrow. “Okay. So, what’s the translation, cara?”

  “Translation?”

  “The code. The one you’ve already calculated in your head. The one you are trying to decide whether to tell us about or not.”

  Jeez. The dude was good. Either that or I had the worst poker face in the history of the universe.

  Elvis looked up from whatever he was writing. “You got something, Lexi?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly nervous. What if I were epically wrong? I didn’t handle embarrassment well, especially in front of my peers.

  “I don’t know. It’s just a guess.”

  “Everything is a guess.” Xavier pointed at me. “Give.”

  My gaze went back to Slash’s. “Well, I’m not sure. It seems too simple. But it might be worth examining.”

  “The code, cara.”

  “Well, that’s just it. I don’t think it is code at all. I think it may be directions.”

  Elvis glanced down at the numbers. “Directions?”

  “Longitude and latitude.”

  Elvis tapped his pencil on the numbers, considering. “Conceivable. Let’s check it out on Google Earth.”

  He typed in the numbers and we all leaned over to see what popped up on the monitor.

  Xavier whistled when it narrowed in. “Your brain is on fire, geek queen. It’s Italy.”

  “Where in Italy?” I asked.

  Slash asked Elvis to magnify the location. “Vaprio d’Adda.”

  I frowned. “Where’s that?”

  “It’s a municipality located about thirty kilometers northeast of Milan.”

  “Okay, what’s the significance, if any?”

  Slash rubbed his chin. “Not sure. Give me a minute to think.” He sat at a different terminal, typed in some commands. After a minute, he spoke. “Interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?”

  “Francesco Melzi’s estate is located in Vaprio d’Adda.”

  “Who’s Francesco Melzi?”

  “A Renaissance painter.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Did he happen to know da Vinci?”

  “Quite well actually. Not only was he one of da Vinci’s protégés, he was also the executor of his estate.”

 
I nodded. “Interesting, indeed.”

  Slash flipped through a few more screens and stopped on one with a picture of a large mansion. “Villa Melzi is here. However, this exact latitude and longitude puts us a few kilometers away...at a cemetery to be exact.”

  “A cemetery?” A chill ran down my spine.

  Slash frowned. “Let me check the numbers again.” He leaned over the screen and re-entered the numbers. He added a few more commands and then checked on something. After a moment, he sighed and sat back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head. “Si, these coordinates definitely put us at the cemetery. But it’s not where Melzi is buried.”

  Basia leaned over Slash’s shoulder. “Where’s Melzi buried?”

  “On his estate.”

  Basia shivered. “This is way too creepy. A cemetery? That can’t be right.”

  I sat in an empty chair. “Basia’s right. Maybe it’s not latitude or longitude.”

  Slash shook his head. “No, it’s right, cara. I feel it.”

  I rubbed my eyes. My eyelids felt heavy and the wine had made me sleepy again. Jetlag had finally caught up with me. My body didn’t know when to sleep and when to stay up.

  Xavier sat down in the chair. “We need to finish looking at the painting. There might be something else we missed.”

  Elvis nodded. “Just in case.”

  We all sat down again and examined the painting micro inch by micro inch. None of us found anything other than those numbers, despite trying a number of other techniques similar to superimposing. Somewhere in the middle of our search, Slash got a phone call and stepped into his room to take it. Now he returned.

  He slid the phone into his pocket. “Uncle Bendetetto called. He’s gone through the file I sent containing the financial records. They were receipts of payments from Maisto Inc. of Italy to one James Rutgon, American. These are not official payments or paychecks and the spreadsheet looks like it was created and maintained by Rutgon himself. The payments were made to offshore accounts and I’d bet he’s not paying taxes on any of them. I’m going to hack in and see if any of those accounts just received a large payment of, say, nine million euros.”