Thirteen Diamonds Read online
Page 13
“Oh, you know me, always nosing around.”
“That's...that's wonderful! I hope you're right. It would certainly help with our long-term financial well-being.”
At this point Albert changed the subject with another look at me that said, “Shut up and behave yourself.” He always kidded me about the fact that I drove a Mercedes, whereas all he and Sandra could afford were Toyotas. Now he said, “Each of our factions has gained an adherent. Mark drives a Toyota while Carol drives a Mercedes.”
“Mine is a very old Mercedes,” I said, “while Carol's is brand new.”
“It's a year old,” she said, somewhat defensively.
“Tell me, what marvelous improvements have been added in the last 15 years?”
“It has a digital security system. I have to punch in four digits before I can start it.”
“Mine has that. Fortunately, the numbers are the month and year Albert was born so it's easy to remember.”
“Gogi may not remember what happened yesterday,” Sandra said, “but she can remember any number.”
“My code is seven, three, five, one,” Carol said. “How would you remember that?”
I thought for a moment. “All the odd single-digit prime numbers, beginning with lucky seven, then down, up, down, ending at the bottom.”
“And my car has an additional anti-theft feature, a transmission lock. If you key in an additional four digits it becomes locked in Park for a fixed amount of time, like a time-lock on a safe. The code is seven, two, three, one. How would you remember that?”
“I'll have to think about it,” I said. “Let's have dessert.”
***
I signed up for dish detail with Sandra and Mark, while Albert and Carol took a walk down by the creek. I was glad to be away from Carol for a spell, and the kids apparently were too. Mark asked me whether I'd solved the oddball puzzle yet. I hadn't; my mind couldn't concentrate on things like that at the moment. I wondered whether it would ever be able to again.
After we had finished the dishes, Sandra and Mark went outside, too, with Mark carrying Winston in his backpack. They invited me to go with them but I didn't feel like being outside on such a beautiful, sunny day. I'd rather be inside nursing my wounds.
As I walked past the bench that stood just inside the front door I saw Carol's purse, sitting open. I opened it wider to see what it contained. I saw the usual stuff a woman carries for any possible contingency and also a black spiral notebook. It looked like the kind that busy people use to record their appointments. I pulled it out. I didn't feel guilty; she owed me.
I opened it up and found an hour-by-hour account of her days: appointments, meetings, Silver Acres events, the schedule of a busy executive. And boring as heck to anybody else. I was about to return the notebook to her purse when I idly opened it to the back. There were a number of pages available for notes. I glanced randomly at a few jottings, again not of interest to the average reader.
Then I saw something strange. Block letters filled one page, but they didn't make any sense. The letters appeared to form words, but they weren't words. At least not English words. Nor were they words in any other language I had ever seen, especially since vowels were under-represented and not present at all in some of the “words.”
This must be a code! Carol didn't want anybody to know what she had written here, which of course immediately piqued my curiosity. After taking a look through the windows beside the front door to make sure none of the walkers were returning, I carried the book to my bedroom at the back of the house and sat down at the desk we had brought from Silver Acres.
I should be able to break a simple substitution code, which this probably was. I pulled out a sheet of scratch paper and starting making notes. I needed to count how many times each character occurred. E is the most common letter in the English language and anyone who has ever watched Wheel of Fortune on television knows that the most common consonants are L N R S T, if you don't count the number of times H and D appear in “the” and “and.” A, O and I are other frequently-used vowels.
I heard the front door open and the voices of Albert and Carol floated in to me; I had become engrossed in my analysis and had forgotten about them. In a panic I realized that they were at this moment standing beside Carol's purse.
I glanced around my room for a hiding place. I hadn't yet unpacked a number of boxes. One contained manila folders that held information about my investments. I took Carol's notebook and shoved it at random into one of the folders, along with the sheet on which I had been making my notes.
Then I went into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door until my heartbeat and breathing subsided to a normal level. After a while I felt I could face them and opened the door. I walked to the front of the house to find out where people were. The voices told me that everybody, including the young folks, were in the family room.
Since that room was out of sight from the front hall, perhaps I could sneak the book back into Carol's purse. I went around a corner and saw that the purse had disappeared from the bench. Carol had picked it up. With a dragging step I continued on to the family room.
A baseball game beamed from the television set; Sandra and Mark were watching both the game and Winston. Carol, as I had feared, sat in an easy chair and was rummaging through her purse.
She said, “I was sure I brought my appointment book with me.”
Albert, who stood beside her, said, “If you like you can call me from your office tomorrow to confirm.”
“I was sure I brought it with me,” Carol repeated. She looked exasperated. “I must be getting old and forgetful. She looked up and saw me. “Sorry, Lillian. Not that old people are necessarily forgetful.”
“They are, Carol, believe me,” I said, “but you're not old. Anyone with as much to do as you have is bound to forget things. It's easy to do...” I realized I was starting to babble, like Winston.
“Ain't it the truth,” Carol said, smiling, ruefully. “Well, Albert, I guess I will have to call you tomorrow. I probably left it on my desk. I was at work for a while yesterday.”
Now that Carol had calmed down I knew what I had to do. I said, “I believe I'll run over to the library and check out a few books. I can get started on my new reading program tomorrow.”
“We'll drive you, Gogi,” Sandra said, getting up.
“No thanks, Honey,” I said. “It's not far. And I'll be back soon.”
“It's no trouble,” Mark said. “We'll be glad to do it.”
Sometimes those kids were too helpful. “You stay here and watch the game,” I said, trying to be forceful but not ungrateful. “I'll be right back.”
I made a hasty exit before they could protest and walked back to my bedroom. I pulled out Carol's notebook and slipped it into my own purse. Then I walked carefully to the front door and out to my car.
I drove to the library and made a copy of the page of code in the notebook on the library's copier, at a cost of 15 cents. Then I hastily selected a couple of books and checked them out.
Next I drove to Silver Acres and parked in the front parking lot. I walked in the front door and saw that, thankfully, I didn't know the volunteer who sat at the desk.
“Hello,” I said, “I'm trying to find the apartment of Tess Upchurch.”
“We don't give out apartment numbers,” he said, genially, “but I'll call her and let you talk to her.”
I agreed and he handed me the phone as it started to ring. Fortunately, Tess answered. I said, “Hi Tess, Lillian. I'm in the area and thought I'd stop by if you're not busy.” She said okay and I almost hung up before remembering to say, “What is your apartment number again?”
Before the amazed Tess could say anything I said, “Thanks. I'll be right there.”
I hung up and gave Tess' number to the man, whereupon he gave me directions to get there. I thanked him and said, “You've got a lonely job, don't you. How late do you have to stay here?”
“Five o'clock,” he said, verifying
what I already knew. The desk was closed early on Sunday.
I drove around to my former parking lot and walked to Tess' apartment. She greeted me like a long lost friend, even though she had helped me pack yesterday.
“I talked to Wesley,” she said, “and he said it's all right for you to still be in the bridge club. Isn't that wonderful?”
“Since Carol hasn't banished me from the premises,” I said, “I guess she can't object to me playing cards.”
“Now what's this nonsense about forgetting my apartment number?”
“Oh, that.” I'd better not try to keep any secrets from Tess. I pulled out Carol's notebook and showed her the page in code.
Tess was flabbergasted. “You are going to get yourself into more trouble than you are already,” she said. “Especially since Carol is Albert's girlfriend.”
“Relax. I'm going to return the notebook to Carol's office. I just have to wait until five o'clock when the volunteer leaves the front desk. Would you like to help me break this code?”
“No thanks. While I'm often puzzled I'm not a puzzler. I've been thinking. Since Ellen has an alibi that seems to eliminate her from having put the shellfish in the casserole, we're back to Harriet, who can't say she couldn't have done it because she could have.”
“But Ellen did as good as admit that Mark delivered the lobster to her.”
“I know it's a wild coincidence, but couldn't there have been two sets of shellfish? Couldn't Harriet have bought crab legs at the supermarket. You said yourself that they were on sale there.”
“Quit muddying the waters,” I said, half-crossly. “I was all set to convict Ellen.”
“But you can't because she has an alibi.”
“So it appears that I'm out of the detective business.”
“Then why in the world did you steal Carol's notebook?”
“I guess because she evicted me. Maybe I'm trying to get something on her. By the way, the gang at home will be frantic when I don't return immediately. You know how they worry about old people. I've got to call and tell them some sort of story.”
“Why not tell them the truth for once? That you're visiting me?”
Sometimes Tess is the smartest person I know. That's exactly what I did. I told them I'd be back about 5:30. At five o'clock Tess and I walked through the inside passageways to the front desk of Silver Acres. Tess wouldn't let me go alone. The gentleman who had been there had left and the lobby area was deserted.
I opened the desk drawer of the receptionist and pulled out the ring of keys. I was becoming an expert at clandestine operations. The outside door leading in to the lobby was locked, so Tess posted herself as a sentry where she could watch the inside corridors. She signaled an all clear.
I walked swiftly over to the door of Carol's office while searching for her door key. I missed it my first time through the keys on the ring so I repeated the process. I still couldn't spot it. Cursing myself for my degenerating eyesight, I started to examine the keys carefully, one at a time.
I glanced at Tess. She subtly but frantically signaled to me. Someone approached. I quickly moved the few steps to the reception desk and tossed the key ring and the notebook into the drawer, just as Harriet walked into view.
Tess greeted Harriet, effusively, standing so that Harriet had her back to me, but I was too noisy; she turned and saw me, just as I shut the drawer.
“Hi, Harriet,” I said, trying to appear nonchalant. “I guess I'll see you Wednesday at the bridge club.”
I immediately launched into an explanation of why I was still in the bridge club.
“Excuse my ignorance,” Harriet said, “but why wouldn't you still be in the bridge club?”
It took us a few sentences to sort out the fact that Harriet didn't even know I had been evicted from Silver Acres. I thought the whole world knew.
“I'm looking for stamps,” Harriet said, after we cleared that up. “I need to mail a letter, but the gift shop is closed and I hoped they would have stamps at the front desk.”
“I have a stamp,” I said, reaching for my purse. I always carry two or three with me. I fumbled in my purse, finally came up with a stamp and gave it to her. I refused payment and soon she departed back along the corridor.
“I hope she doesn't tell Carol what she saw,” Tess said, worriedly.
“Well, since I made a fool of myself,” I said, “thinking the whole world knew about my martyrdom, who knows what she'll do? And by the way, I couldn't find the key to Carol's office.”
Tess helped me check the key ring and after some serious searching it finally dawned on me that the key was no longer there.
“Carol wants to make sure you don't get into her office again,” Tess said.
“So what do I do with her notebook?”
Tess opened drawers of the receptionist's desk until she found a large manila envelope. She slid the notebook inside, fastened the envelope with the metal clips provided and wrote “Carol” on the outside. Then she shoved the envelope into Carol's mail slot on top of the desk and said, “There.”
“She won't know who found it or where.”
“Do you want to put 'From Lillian, with love,' on the envelope?
“No.”
“Then this will become one of the mysteries of her life.”
CHAPTER 23
I took a walk with King down Albert's road first thing Monday morning. At least that custom didn't have to change. Then I struggled with Carol's code during the time when I would have been taking the water aerobics class, had I still been at Silver Acres.
Actually, before I tried to break the code I re-read The Gold-Bug, by Edgar Allan Poe, because it contains a beautiful example of how to decode a cipher, as Poe called it. Fortunately, I had anticipated the need for Poe's story; one of the books I had checked out of the library contained his works.
Unfortunately, it didn't help me very much. Carol's code consisted of 10 lines of letters. In each line there were 14 letters, with spaces after the fourth and ninth letters. The top line looked like this:
PBJS SXPVA JPBSX
The lines were suspiciously similar to each other so I decided to disregard the spaces. Each line couldn't possibly consist of one four-letter word followed by two five-letter words.
Like Poe's treasure hunter, I counted how often each character appeared. The counts ranged from seven to 20, but only ten different characters were used, not the 17 or 18 that I would expect in a coded message of this length. It didn't look like the English alphabet. I couldn't assume that the character with the count of 20 was E because there were also counts of 18, 16 and three 15's. And I couldn't find enough repetitions of the same three characters to pick out common words like “the” and “and.”
There were some numbers on the page, also, and I wondered if they were a key to the code. However, they looked like a telephone number: seven digits, with a dash between the third and fourth digit, and after trying for a few minutes to connect them with the code in some way, I gave up and decided they were what they appeared to be.
After several hours I had achieved exactly nothing. I took a break for lunch and then decided to give my brain a change of pace by attempting to solve Mark's oddball problem. Twelve balls, balance scale, one ball heavier or lighter, three weighings. That should be simple for me.
At first I floundered. If I weighed six balls against six, one side would be lighter. So what? I knew that already. And I knew from experience that problems like this couldn't be solved with straight-line logic.
By trial and error I approached the solution. Split the 12 balls into three groups of four. Weigh group A against group B. If they balance, the oddball is in group C, so all but four balls have been eliminated. Otherwise, it is in group A or B but its relative weight will be known when it is found.
So far so good. Now came the tricky part. Assuming the oddball was in group A or B, the second weighing demanded creative thinking. With a balance scale one tended to think in even numbers, but I discovered
that this didn't work. I had to remove three balls from the second weighing, for example one from group A and two from group B. I replaced one of the removed Group B balls with a Group C ball to keep the same number of balls on each side of the balance scale.
Once I hit on this approach the solution came quickly. I wrote it out in all its ramifications to show to Mark. And to prove I wasn't yet senile. Invigorated, I returned to Carol's code. Perhaps straight-line thinking wouldn't work in solving this, either. I assumed that she was writing in English, but what if she wasn't?
The only language I could think of that might contain as few as ten letters in a typical piece of text was Hawaiian, which has place names like Aiea, but I doubted that Carol knew the Hawaiian language.
What if it wasn't a language at all? What if it was...numbers? Of course! We use a base-ten number system, which means that there are ten digits. Why? Probably because we have ten fingers and ten toes. Each of Carol's ten letters must represent a digit, from 0 to 9. The fact that the letters were lined up in nice neat columns lent credence to this argument.
My euphoria didn't last long. Even if I was right, even if I could assign a digit to each letter, what would it mean? I did make an attempt to assign digits to letters. Maybe one column was composed of dates. No—there weren't the regular patterns of numbers necessary for days, months and years.
I did discover two patterns. The numbers (I now assumed they were numbers) in the third column started with just three different letters, but in no particular order. And the numbers in the first column started with just two different letters.
The first four numbers in the first column started with P and the other six started with S. Although this column might consist of numbers in sequence, they definitely weren't consecutive. Based on the sequential assumption, I could probably determine that some letters represented digits higher than others. For example, S was probably one higher than P. But by this time I was tired of the whole thing.
Well, Lillian, I thought, you've had your fun. Maybe now it's time to get on with the business of living. Whatever that meant. The first thing I did was to phone Tess to find out how the water aerobics class had gone. At least that was my excuse.