“It’s a code of some kind.”
“Yes, it is. Brilliant deduction, Percy. Now, you’re the don of this operation – what does it say?”
Percy stood to retrieve a roll of parchment and a stylus from a nearby sideboard. He began making notes and doing sums, while Prudence explained about Lieutenant Broadwattle being Dama’s redundancy agent and the fact that her real contact was the recently kidnapped brigadier’s wife, Mrs Featherstonehaugh. She also explained that she felt there was another interested party, also after the tea, represented by Miss Sekhmet and possibly the Rakshasas. While she had expected to be approached at the party, that element had never appeared.
Eventually, Percy looked up from the bit of paper. “Nothing basic. Nor is it algorithmic. It may be something I’m not quite able… that is… The numbers don’t translate to letters of the alphabet nor is it any variation or foreign language with which I am familiar. My guess is that it is based on a book of some kind. See here? The first is always a number between one and about two hundred, the second between one and thirty, then the third between one and ten. It follows that the first is a page number, the second a line number, and the last the word in. So each set of three numbers represents a word in a text, thus constructing a complete correspondence. Without knowing the book, it’s meaningless.”
Rue and Prim looked at one another.
Rue said, “I think we know the book. Prim, if you would be so kind?”
Prim scurried off to Percy’s library, returning a short while later clutching Sand and Shadows on a Sapphire Sea: My Adventures Abroad by Honeysuckle Isinglass.
Quesnel picked it up and read a few lines. He sputtered laughter.
Percy looked utterly mortified. “Why on earth would you think anyone would choose that as a cypher? And what are you doing with it, Tiddles? I thought we swore an oath never to grace it with––”
Prim said, “It’s not my copy. It’s Rue’s.”
“Rue, how could you?” Percy looked genuinely betrayed.
Rue held up a hand. “Before you accuse me of treating in family secrets, it was given to me by an agent of Dama’s at the Maltese Tower. I had no idea why or what for, and I didn’t know it had any bearing on your family. Now I suspect it is the means by which Dama transmits messages.”
“Isn’t it just like that vampire to use something so domestically embarrassing?” grumbled Percy.
Rue gestured encouragingly. “Go on. Test it and see if it works.”
Percy did so, paging through swiftly and jotting down words until he had a full message written out on his parchment.
While he worked, Quesnel asked, confused, “Why domestically embarrassing?”
“Oh, it’s nothing much, simply that Aunt Ivy wrote that book,” answered Rue.
Quesnel chuckled. “The Wimbledon Hive Queen? Fantastic. Wait until I tell Maman.”
“Don’t you dare,” instructed Rue. “It’s a family secret. You are now sworn to safeguard it to the grave as a potentially damaging moral hazard. Not to mention our communication cypher.”
Quesnel arched an eyebrow. “Am I, mon petit chou? I don’t remember any swearing.”
Rue narrowed her eyes at him.
Percy put down his stylus. “Well, there it is. The message makes perfect sense, so this book must be the code-breaker. Unfortunate indeed, but such is life.”
“Ever full of our mother’s embarrassments?” suggested Prim.
“What does it say?” Rue was dying of curiosity. She may have squirmed a bit in her seat. This was all so deliciously espionage-ish.
Percy passed it over so she could read it, at the same time offering up his own interpretation. “Essentially, he’s changing our mission. He found out about his agent being kidnapped while we were in transit.”
Rue examined it and then continued with her interpretation of the message. “It appears he wants me to go after Mrs Featherstonehaugh. He thinks she may have betrayed him in the matter of the tea and that’s why she was taken. The tea is in danger.”
Percy crossed his arms and glared at Rue. “Tell them the rest of it.”
Rue stuck her tongue out at him. She didn’t want the others to know the remainder of their new instructions. Quesnel would make a joke of it and Primrose would worry.
Percy said, because it looked like she wouldn’t, “Rue has been given sundowner dispensation.”
“Oh, just lovely.” Instead of teasing her, Quesnel lost all merriment and looked annoyed.
“That’s me, licensed to kill supernaturals,” said Rue blithely, feeling the strain at the back of her eyes, but making light of the matter for the sake of Prim, who looked like she might cry. “Ain’t it topping?”
“I think Lord Akeldama is worried about the Rakshasas. Doesn’t trust them. Thinks they may have stolen the taxes themselves,” Percy added.
Rue shook her head. “I think it’s most likely Paw overreacting. I bet he heard about the kidnapping, fears the worst, and pressured the Shadow Council into granting me permission to exterminate supernaturals. Or Mother thinks I’m going to accidentally kill a immortal and wants to reduce her paperwork.”
“How did we go from tea to death so quickly?” wondered Quesnel.
“Sometimes,” said Prim darkly, “there is a very fine line between the two.”
“There’s no we!” insisted Rue. “This is my responsibility. I’ve been given the role. Dama obviously doesn’t trust any other agents here in India.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” said Prim firmly. “Of course there’s a we. Now, shall we do some collective cogitation? What did everyone learn at the party about this kidnapping?”
It was a great deal later on in the evening before they retired.
Rue was surprised to find, when she went to open the door to her captain’s quarters, that Quesnel had followed her from the stateroom. She hoped the other two hadn’t seen.
“You aren’t going to take this sundowner burden to heart, are you, chérie?”
Rue looked into his violet eyes, her own yellow ones twinkling. “It is a sacred duty.”
“Are you this flippant about everything?”
“That’s rich coming from you.” Rue only then realised he was being serious, or trying to be. Quesnel didn’t wear serious very well. It looked ill-fitting on him – his mercurial face was pinched and his eyes sombre.