---
50
---
Mort sat on a bench across the street from Baroness Kessler's building, a newspaper in his hands. He looked at it thoughtlessly, then glanced up. The secretary walked out of the entrance and down the sidewalk. It was time to shine.
Mort got up from his perch and walked across the street and into the building. The photocopies under his arm in a folder, he quickly made his way up the stairs. Reaching the door of the Baroness's office, he extended a hand and jiggled the knob. It was locked. He looked off to the side and saw an intercom.
Mort reluctantly pressed the button and the intercom buzzed. He cleared his throat.
"Oui?" The Baroness said through the intercom.
"W-Uh-w.. yes. Hello Baroness," Mort fumbled, trying to find the right words. "It's me, the wolf in sheep's clothing. Ha ha."
The Baroness did not find his presence funny, though. "I thought I made myself quite clear, Mr. Corso."
"Well... I've got something for you, Baroness. A kind of peace offering. Will you allow me to give it to you... Please?" He asked in a soft, innocent voice.
The Baroness replied by buzzing him in.
He smiled, slowly opened the door and entered the room. He walked down the hall and into the Baroness's office. Mort approached her desk. "First, let me apologize. I should've told you right away that I'm working for Boris Balkan. It was foolish of me to think that I could deceive someone as studious as you. Please forgive me."
The Baroness fixed Mort with a cold, challenging stare as he approached her desk. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Corso. Get on with it."
"Right," Mort said, pulling the folder out from under his arm. He placed it in front of her. "These are for you."
She looked down at the photocopies distastefully. "What is this? What is this supposed to be?" She asked.
"You said that your knowledge of 'The Nine Gates' was extensive. But, did you ever compare your copy with the other two?" Mort asked.
"No. Why?"
"Well, you should have. These are copies of the engravings from Balkan's book. You'll find that some of them differ from yours," Mort explained.
"Differ? So you question my book's authenticity, do you? If that's your peace offering, you can take it and go. My 'Nine Gates' is absolutely genuine."
Mort shook his head. "I don't dispute that, Baroness. In my opinion, all three copies are genuine. But the fact remains, they all display variations."
"They display variations?" The Baroness repeated. "If that were true, it would be a revelation. What makes you so sure?"
Mort lifted the photocopies. "I've already compared these with the Fargas's engravings." He turned the page to the famous hermit with the keys engraving and pointed at the hermit's hand. "And in his, the keys were in the other hand." He turned the page to the next engraving and pointed to a bricked up doorway. "In here, the doorway wasn't bricked up." He turned the page to the hanging man. "And in this one, the man was hanging by the other leg." He put the engravings back down in front of her and gave her a look.
Now, interested in Mort's discovery, she pulled her copy of 'The Nine Gates' from a drawer of her desk and lay it open on the surface. Mort leaned over her as she flipped to each engraving and compared it with the photocopies, as Mort had done himself the past few days.
"Well?" He asked.
"Well, what?" She asked back, not seeing anything unusual.
Mort picked up a photocopy and placed it next to the real engraving. "Look closely, Baroness." He pointed to the turrets atop a building. "The turrets. Three in yours." He pointed his hand to the turrets on the photocopy. "Four in Balkan's."
She turned the page to the next engraving of a king playing chess with a peasant and pointed to the chess table. In her copy the chess board was blank, in Balkan's it was colored in black. "Hm," She said, now finding some truth in what Mort was trying to tell her. "Amazing."
"I'm convinced there will be a third one in here somewhere," Mort said. "Three variations in three copies makes nine. Coincidence or something more? Maybe Torchia hid the secret of The Ninth Gate in three books, not one."
The Baroness looked up at him excitedly. "I must admit, I'm impressed. This puts an entirely different complexion on the matter. You have my permission to investigate further, Mr. Corso. Take as long as you need."
Success! Mort thought.
She lead him into the next room and he sat down at a table and spread his work out around him. Then she left him alone and went back to her office.
Never taking his eyes off her copy, he reached into his pocket and produced a cigarette. He placed it in his mouth and reached back into his pocket for the lighter. Mort lit the flame and brought it up to the cigarette, when suddenly the Baroness spoke:
"My permission did not extend to that, Mr. Corso. Nobody smokes in my library."
Mort sadly removed the cigarette and placed it back into the carton and then back into his pocket. He sighed and closed the book. He placed it on its spine and opened it to a random page, then looked down at the page he had landed on and saw a postcard inserted in the page.
The postcard displayed a nice picture of a castle-like building emitting bright lights. Mort turned it around and read the back:
Sorry, Frieda.
I saw it first!
Boris.
Mort slowly replaced it back into the pages of the book and continued to flip again. He turned some pages and came to the engraving of the knight with a finger to his lips. Mort took his magnifying glass and ran it over the bottom of the page. The engraving was signed 'LCF.'
He opened his notebook to the chart he had made, added another row and inscribed 'Kessler', and wrote 'LCF' in the first box.
Mort flipped to the another engraving and placed his magnifying glass over the signature. 'LCF'. He inscribed 'LCF' in the fifth box of his chart.
He continued his study on the book. Suddenly, there was a loud thud and Mort felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. His vision became blurred and he fell to the table, knocked out cold.