Chapter Fifty-One
Amber and Silver
A second comb. That was what was hidden in the music box. Pop it in place, and it plays a different piece of music. Somehow, there was significance in it, but hell if Nora could figure it out. She puzzled over it for days, turning it over and over in her mind.
Secret codes, however, happened to be a specialty of Mozzie's. Naturally, Peter insisted he come along, as they had promised that whatever happened going forward, they would deal with it together. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked as they walked in a brisk pace toward June's. Peter carried a duffle bag, the music box tucked inside.
"You have a better one?" she shot back.
"No," he admitted after a pause. "Do you think Mozzie can do this?"
"Oh, he's a savant when it comes to things like this."
"Rain Man, I get it."
She smirked. "You should see him do a Rubik's Cube."
"Probably can do it with his feet, right?" he scoffed.
"Thirty seconds, socks on or off." Peter made a face, and she couldn't really blame him. It was a spectacular though somewhat uncomfortable process to witness, to be sure.
"This is the single greatest day of his life."
"Yup. All the conspiracy theories have come true."
Mozzie was already waiting for them in her apartment with an array of Russian surplus gadgets spread out over the table, practically radiating excited energy like a puppy who knows you have a ball hidden behind your back. Peter placed the box gingerly in front of him. "We've been so close," he mused, staring at it intently, "and now we finally meet."
"I told you," Peter teased Nora.
"I agreed with you," she reminded him.
"Shush!" Mozzie snapped.
Peter glared down at him. "No, there's no shushing. No shushing for you." Mozzie rolled his eyes. "Are you ready to record this?"
"Yes, but first, walk me through it."
Peter pulled up the chair next to him. "Alright, pay attention. This is where it gets good." Peter leaned in and pointed to the small keyhole on the lid. "We noticed this broken piece wasn't broken."
"It's a keyhole," Mozzie noted, perceptive as always.
"Yup," Nora confirmed, sinking into the chair on his other side. She slid the cherub into place. "This is the key." Mozzie watched in awe as she turned it and opened the lid, revealing the secret compartment.
"There's a second comb?" he mused, pulling it out delicately.
"Yup."
"We snap it into place..." He did so and started fiddling with his recording device. When it was turned on and ready to go, Nora pressed the button and the music box started playing. They listened as it completed a loop of the music before she switched it off again.
"Any idea what kind of code it is?" Peter asked.
Mozzie thought for a moment, eyes a million miles away. "Sounds could correspond to numbers, wavelengths."
Nora nodded slowly. "Pala's discovery of hidden music in The Last Supper," she mused.
"RuneScape's encoded flute solo." She furrowed her brow, not entirely sure what that meant.
"Don't forget Close Encounters," Peter muttered.
Mozzie nodded. "Geographical coordinates encoded-"
"In five tones," Nora finished with him.
He turned back to Peter, impressed. "Very good, Suit."
Peter apparently didn't realize he'd said something helpful, and stared at Mozzie, bewildered. "Clearly, we're in very good hands."
Mozzie moved to turn off the recording device and Peter closed the box. "What are you doing?" Mozzie demanded, looking like someone was stealing his most prized possession right from under his nose.
"Getting this out of harm's way," Peter explained.
Nora grabbed the key. "And I am keeping this."
"That's a good idea," Peter agreed. It was best not to keep all their eggs in one basket.
Mozzie watched helpless as Peter stood and returned the box to the duffle bag. "We defang the box, we can use it lure out Fowler," she added, rising to her feet.
"No way," Peter protested, staring down at her with a hard look. "Tomorrow, you and me, it's back to business as usual."
Nora didn't agree, but she thought better of voicing that thought. The last thing she wanted was for Peter to shut her out when they were finally coming up on the finish line. She nodded somberly.
"Oh, business as usual," Mozzie huffed, pouting. "Us without the box."
Peter left them, and they were silent for a while, both churning over their thoughts. "Why don't we take a walk," he suggested.
They ambled through the city streets, reveling in the heat of a beautiful summer day. "How old is this code?" she wondered
"Hard to say," he admitted. "The last credible report has the box disappearing from Konigsburg Castle in '45. Now, assuming no one has reunited the cherub and the box since then..."
Nora paused, that statement scratching something in her mind. "Wait, wait. The box and the key were together the day we stole it."
Mozzie blinked. "Alex."
She nodded slowly. "She had them both before she brought the box back to me."
They started walking again, and Nora wondered how she didn't realize it the moment she'd put the key in for the first time. "Well, she obviously inserted the key and found the comb," Mozzie muttered.
"So why'd she give it back?"
He shrugged. "Couldn't solve it herself?"
That was one theory, but Alex had no guarantee that Nora would be able or willing to share if she'd managed to figure it out. Besides, Nora wouldn't have been able to find the comb without the key, which Alex finally deigned to hand over months after the box had disappeared again. "Or she took something out of it. Or she knows something we don't."
"She could be a step ahead of us."
"Yeah."
"We really should talk to her. It's really too bad she disappeared to Italy."
"Maybe," she dodged. She'd almost forgotten Mozzie didn't know…
"You know where Alex is, don't you?" he accused, not missing a beat.
She smirked. "I have an idea."
Peter handed the duffle bag over to Diana once the door to her apartment was locked behind them. "How did Mozzie do?" she wondered, setting the bag on the kitchen table.
Peter took a seat. "Better than I expected," he allowed. "I'm convinced he's the cherub for the job."
Diana chuckled. "What about Nora? How's she doing with all this?"
Peter considered that for a moment. "I don't know if she's interested in the music box. I think she just wants to find Fowler. See what he knows about Kyle's death."
She nodded slowly. "Well, speaking of Fowler, we got a blip on the radar." She pulled a file off the coffee table and handed it over. "An old bank account. Someone checked the balance."
"Did you trace it?"
"No. It was done remotely."
He looked over the file. "Two hundred bucks in the account?"
"Yeah, he emptied his accounts when he went underground, but he didn't get much."
Peter furrowed his brow. "Maybe he's desperate for cash."
She met his eyes evenly. "What are you thinking?"
"Do you know about his wife's death?"
"She was killed during a robbery a few years ago," she recounted.
Peter nodded. "When he was working Violent Crimes for the Bureau. Suspicious circumstances surrounded the murder. That kept the insurance company from finalizing their claim."
Her eyes lit up as she realized what he was getting at. "We could make it look like the claim finally went through."
"Put a stack of cash in the account. If he bites, we can track the withdrawal. In the meantime, make sure that stays safe," he said, gesturing toward the bag. She nodded, and Peter left her to get to it.
It took some doing, but Nora finally got in contact with an old friend who she thought could help. She and Mozzie met him in a parking lot overlooking the river, empty save for one car, a classic convertible. A man in a light gray suit leaned against it, arms crossed.
"What bushes did you rattle to uncover Alex's trail?" Mozzie wondered as they crossed the lot toward the man.
"That silver collection she fenced a few years ago," she admitted.
"The Spanish pieces from the Almiranta shipwreck?"
She nodded with a small smile. "They're popping up again, one at a time." They came to a stop in front of the man, who eyed they with narrowed eyes, though there was a playful smirk on his lips. "Hale," she greeted. Hale was an older man, hair and beard long since gone gray.
"I don't like loitering," he said sternly. They stared at each other for a long moment before breaking into broad smiles. "Nora!" He stepped forward to give her a quick hug, which she returned with enthusiasm.
She smiled up at him. "I really appreciate this," she told hem earnestly, squeezing one of his hands.
Hale turned to Mozzie. "So, what happened to the goatee?" he wondered, squeezing Mozzie's chin. "You know I liked it."
Mozzie smiled tightly, the way he did whenever Nora teased him with reminders of that period of his life. "We all grow up," he dismissed.
"All children," Hale allowed before shooting a pointed look at Nora. "Except one."
She rolled her eyes playfully. "Did you bring it?" she asked, getting to business.
He led them around the car and popped the trunk. From inside he pulled out a large chalice, handling it gently as if it might crumble in his hands. She took it with light fingers, studying it intently for a moment. "It's from the Almiranta," she confirmed, handing it back.
"Who's the fence?" Mozzie asked.
"Anonymous."
Go figure. "The thief?" Nora tried.
Hale tucked the chalice back into the trunk and slammed it shut. "It's the third piece of shipwreck silver I've had come through this month," he explained.
"Someone's been busy," Mozzie mused.
"Too busy," Hale agreed, face now serious. "I like that someone. So you should warn her the NYPD's on the trail. If they make the Almiranta connection..."
It would be bad news. "Understood," she assured him. Hale moved to shake her hand again, but Nora drew her hand away, eyeing him with suspicion. "What do I owe you for this?" As good as their working relationship was, Hale didn't work for free, and information was a particularly valuable resource in their line of work.
Hale waved her away, taking her hand. "Darling, we all go way back. Just remember me fondly when you pull the next job."
"Well, that might be a while," she admitted.
He shrugged. "Or it might not." With a smile, he bumped fists with Mozzie and they went their separate directions.
"He thinks it's Alex," Mozzie noted as they walked away. "She knows how valuable the stuff is. And she knows where it is."
Nora nodded. "She's stealing back her own stuff. When the NYPD realizes it's all from the same collection…"
"They'll set a trap," he concluded. While the NYPD wasn't usually the biggest threat, they did certainly have their moments. If one didn't take them seriously, a small miscalculation would spell potential disaster.
"Unless we get to her first."
Mozzie sighed. "That would take FBI resources we don't have access to."
She paused, coming to a stop as the gears in her mind turned. "I can get those."
"How?"
It was probably a stupid idea, but as good ones seemed to have been in short supply of late, it was better that than nothing. "I con the FBI," she decided.
