“Of course. No, of course. And thank you for getting back so quickly.”
“Hey, you posted your phone number. I figured it was an emergency. By the way, I like your screen name. Ptomaine. From NPR, right? Famous historic American. Put his first name inside his last name to get a word. Ptomaine. Tom Paine. Cute,” the woman said, almost as if she were looking for a date.
“Yeah, well… aheh,” Kassal said, wiping his forehead. “So about those symbols…”
“The glyphs — sure — I knew them immediately. I mean, I stare at them every day.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“I work at Monticello. Y’know, Virginia? Home of our wisest and greatest President, Thomas Jefferson — and I don’t just say that as an employee.”
“These were symbols used by Jefferson?”
“Actually, by Meriwether Lewis.”
“Of Lewis and Clark?”
“Oooh, you know your history, Ptomaine,” she said sarcastically. “Of course. But what people don’t realize is that the main reason Meriwether Lewis was picked to explore the Louisiana Purchase — in fact, maybe the only reason he was trusted with the task — was because a few years earlier, he did such an incredible job as Jefferson’s personal secretary.”
“Huh,” Kassal said, already scribbling a note to use the info in an upcoming puzzle. “I didn’t realize Lewis was Jefferson’s aide.”
“Very first aide to any President. Right after Jefferson was elected in 1801, one of his first jobs as President was decreasing the number of officers in the army. The Revolutionary War was long over, the conflict with France was winding down, and they were trying to shrink the ranks.”
“So the political consequences…”
“Very good. Were staggering,” Mary Beth explained. “You have the political bug too, eh? Have you ever been to Monticello? I’d be happy to show you around.”
That was always the problem with the message boards. The odds were good, but the goods were odd. “I’m sorry, I’m just in a bit of a rush—”
“Okay, I get it — you’re married. My apologies. I’m just not good at reading these things—”
“Yes, so, aheh — you were saying about Jefferson… that the political consequences of firing officers…”
“Of course, of course. The politics were tricky to say the least, so to avoid putting his foot in it, Jefferson asked Lewis to secretly rank the loyalty of each army officer. That way, they’d know who to fire and who to keep on board.”
“So those symbols,” Kassal said, looking down at the 
“those were…”
“… Lewis and Jefferson’s coded rating system to make sure none of the officers would ever find out what Jefferson’s opinion of them actually was: whether they were trustworthy, apathetic, or a political enemy. So when the War Department supplied Jefferson with the list of all the brigadier generals and lieutenants, Lewis took his secret symbols and put…”
“… a handwritten mark next to each name,” Kassal said, studying the exact same symbols two hundred years later on the crossword. “To everyone else, it looked like the random blots of a fountain pen…”
“… right again… but to Jefferson, it was a guide to which of his officers were honest Abes. In fact, if you ever do come h— We actually have the original list on display, plus the key that Jefferson used to decipher the codes. It’s beautiful to see up close — all the flourishes in the old script.”
“Certainly sounds tempting,” Kassal said, making the kind of face that usually goes with biting a lemon. “But… Mary Beth, is it?”
“Mary Beth,” she said proudly.
“If I could ask you one last favor, Mary Beth: Now that I have the signs — the four dots and the cross with the slash through it — can you just read me the cipher so I know what each of these stands for?”
103
You’re telling me you didn’t send him a note?” Rogo asked Boyle as he readjusted his shirt from where the guard had pulled it.
“Note? Why would I send him a note?” Boyle asked, sounding annoyed as his eyes flicked between Rogo and the guard.
“I said don’t move!” the guard shouted, his gun pointed at Boyle.
“You yell at me again, you’re gonna be picking that gun outta your teeth,” Boyle growled back. “Now I want my contact man, or at the very least, a supervisor, and I mean now.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Dreidel asked, his hands raised in the air, even though the gun wasn’t anywhere near him. “You said we were meeting at my hotel. Since when is Wes meeting at a graveyard?”
“Dreidel, this isn’t about you,” Rogo insisted. Turning to the guard, he added, “Listen, I know you don’t know me, but my friend’s life is in—”
“So is yours,” the guard said as he pointed his gun back at Rogo. Turning his attention to his walkie-talkie, he pushed a button and added, “Rags, we got a problem — I need you to find Loeb.”
“So wait… when Wes called… you both lied to me?” Dreidel asked, still putting the pieces together. “Now you have Wes not trusting me too?”
“Don’t you dare play victim,” Rogo warned. “Lisbeth spoke to your old girlfriend — the one with the crossword puzzle—”
Boyle turned at the words. “You found the puzzle?”
“Boyle, keep your mouth shut!” the guard warned.
“How’d she find Violet?” Dreidel asked, his face paste white as he slowly lowered his hands.
Rogo shook his head at Dreidel but knew enough to stay with the guard, who knew enough to stay with Boyle. Rogo shifted his weight anxiously, barely able to stand still. Every second they wasted here meant that Wes— He cut himself off. Don’t think about it.
“When’d you find the puzzle?” Boyle added, still trying to get Rogo’s attention.
Rogo glanced his way, smelling the opening. Until he could get to Wes, he might as well get some answers. “Does that mean you’re gonna tell me what’s in it?” Rogo asked.
Boyle ignored the question like he didn’t even hear it.
“No — don’t do that,” Rogo warned. “Don’t just— If you can help Wes — if you know what’s in the puzzle—”
“I don’t know anything.”
“That’s not true. You went to Malaysia for a reason.”
“Loeb, you there?” the guard said into his radio.
“C’mon, Boyle — I heard Wes talk about you. We know you tried to do the right thing.”
Boyle watched the guard, who shook his head.
“Please,” Rogo pleaded. “Wes is out there thinking he’s meeting you.”
Boyle still didn’t react.
“Someone lured him out there,” Rogo added. “If you know something and you keep it to yourself, you’re just letting him take your place.”
Still nothing.
“Forget it,” Dreidel said. “He’s not—”
“Where’d he find it?” Boyle blurted.
“Find what?” Rogo asked.
“The note. You said Wes found a note. For the graveyard.”
“Boyle…” the guard warned.
“On his car,” Rogo sputtered. “Outside Manning’s house.”
“Since when?” Dreidel asked. “You never said that. They never said that,” he added to Boyle.
Boyle shook his head. “And Wes just assumed it was—? I thought you said you unlocked the crossword.”
“We unlocked the names — all the initials,” Rogo said. “Manning, Albright, Rosenman, Dreidel…”
“These… with Jefferson’s old cryptogram,” Boyle said as he pulled a worn, folded-up sheet from his pocket. Furiously unfolding it, he revealed the crossword and its hidden code, plus his own handwritten notes drawn in.