Trifariam, The Lost Codex (2012) (8 page)

Rose turned beet red when she saw the roguish glint in her friend’s eye. She knew how attentive he was, and how he didn’t get embarrassed easily, so she thought it best to quickly change the subject before he was encouraged to joke around again.

However, before Rose could say anything, Richard’s phone vibrated on the table causing a sudden silence.

He looked who was calling and it shocked him. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to allow me to take this call. Some green professor needs my wise words of advice.”

Slight smiles broke out on the faces of some of his companions as he stood up and left through the side corridor of the restaurant. Once outside, he sat on an old wooden sixteenth-century bench which had been recently restored, and he answered the phone with an irritated tone of voice. After all, he had been disturbed at the most delicate of times - when he was trying to pick up a woman.

“How are you, James? You have as much bad timing as ever, I see. It’s your fault that I’ll be sleeping alone tonight.”

James Oldrich couldn’t help but chuckle like a little boy on the other end of the phone. “Of course, Richard. You like women more than a kid loves candy. How is everything going at university?”

There was a long, almost uncomfortable silence. Then Richard spoke. “It seems that the five times I told you that I would be absent from the faculty this week weren’t enough. In future I’ll tell you a hundred times until it sinks in. Don’t you remember that PG members are having a meeting in Rome?”

James swallowed hard - he had completely forgotten. Richard was one of the most important members of the PG, or the
Paleographic Group
as they preferred to be called. They met once a year to discuss the most important matters which had arisen in the previous twelve months regarding paleography and extinct languages. They were the absolute experts in this field - around twenty people from five continents. This time, Rome was the chosen location for the meeting.

“I’m sorry, Richard. It’s been a very long week. I’ve had a lot on my mind and I completely forgot. But, tell me! You’re not frittering away University money buying everybody drinks, are you?”

“How dare you! You’ve offended me!” Richard couldn’t help but laugh, and his friend heard this clearly. “I’m having a great time. Besides, there are two new, young up-and-coming members who still don’t know about my reputation as a ladies’ man. I have to take advantage before they find out. But I know you too well, James. You haven’t called to ask me how things are. Something’s up, isn’t it?”

James’ mood changed drastically. It was best to spit it out. “We have to see each other immediately. I’ve made a very significant discovery and I need your help. At the moment I can’t tell you anything over the phone because I don’t know if the line is safe.” James took a deep breath and then said it. “They tried to kill us a couple of hours ago.”

“What?! You’ve discovered something very important and you came close to being killed?! But… who are you with now?!”

James began to get nervous. “I told you, I can’t say anything. Listen to me carefully and do what I say. I suppose you’ll be having dinner now. We have to see each other tomorrow, but before then I’m going to send you a document. I want you to translate it, but don’t show it to anybody, or your life could be in danger.

Suddenly his cellphone beeped. He didn’t even look at it - he guessed it was a text message, probably sent by one of his friends who were getting impatient. He didn’t have time to reply to them. “James, wait a minute. What does the document contain for them to want to kill you? You haven’t stolen it, have you? Because I don’t want to get involved, if that’s the case.”

“Don’t worry. It is a book that’s about five-hundred-years-old which I found in the house I was renting. Judging by how they dealt with us this afternoon, it obviously hides something very important which I haven’t been able to work out yet. I need your help. I want you to ask in the hotel you’re staying at if they allow guests to send and receive faxes. If they don’t, go out and find somewhere that does. When you’re there, send me a blank fax to the number I’ve just sent to your phone. This way, I’ll have your number and I’ll be able to send you photocopies of the first chapter of the book.”

Without hanging up, Richard ran to the hotel reception. Regretfully, he didn’t have time to say goodbye to his colleagues, but he had a feeling that his friend was in trouble. On the way he bumped into an elderly man who was waiting for the elevator, and his cellphone suddenly dropped to the floor. The display read four minutes and twenty-three seconds; he still hadn’t hung up. When he got to reception he met with a couple who were leaving their keys.

“Good evening. Look, I’m staying in this hotel and I need to send a fax urgently. I need some privacy - it’s an important personal matter.”

The receptionists looked at each other. They weren’t used to these kinds of requests, but they did have a small room with a cluster of computers with internet access, two printers and a fax machine. They knew the kind of clientele who stayed the hotel only too well - very influential people who had great purchasing power and, in some cases, moved in important media circles. In order to avoid getting into trouble with their superiors, the receptionists let Richard through and closed the doors so that he would be more comfortable.

Finally, he picked up the phone. “I hope this is important. You’ve gone and got me locked in a room so that nobody disturbs me.”

“Did you get the message?”

The screen lit up when Richard unblocked his phone. He kept James waiting while he skillfully accessed the inbox. He had one unread message:

___________________________________

TEXT MESSAGE: 1/258

FROM: James Oldrich

The fax number is 300203741.

Be careful.

James.

___________________________________

He didn’t answer the question. He grabbed a chair and sat in front of the fax machine. He felt a strange sensation run though his body, as if he was about to cross a threshold from which there could be no turning back. “I’m starting to regret picking up the phone. I was quite happy trying to pick up a girl a few minutes ago, and the more I speak to you, the more panicked I feel. They tried to kill you! For the love of God! What have you gotten yourself into?”

James detected terror in Richard’s voice and tried to calm him down. “Richard, it is best that you don’t know at the moment. It’s for your own good. I’ve found something surprising. By my calculations, it goes back to the year 1500 and although we don’t know what is hidden inside, from the way they treated us this morning, it’s got to be important. I’m sure that when you see it, you won’t be sorry.”

Next, James gave a series of instructions, which Richard followed to the letter. Eventually, he dialed the fax number from James’ text message. A few moments later, in an apartment in Florence, a fax machine sprung to life and printed a blank page.

“Well done, Richard. I’ve got the number now. We have to hang up. I don’t know if they’ve been listening to us and, if that is the case, the longer we talk the more time they will have to locate the call.”

Richard thought for a few seconds about the possibility of several men turning up in his room in the dead of night to brutally interrogate him about something which he knew nothing about.

“Stay there for a few minutes and don’t let anyone in. What I’m going to send you is a copy of the first chapter of the book, along with a table to help you decode it. I’m sure you won’t be able to understand the script at first, but your ancient idol and your good friend Trithemius will help you to work it out.”

“But James… I don’t - ”

“Richard, I’ve known you for a long time and I know what you’re trying to say, but think about what I’ve told you. Leave the hotel when you have the documents and I’ll get in touch with you first thing tomorrow.”

James hung up before he could say goodbye. Richard desperately wished that he hadn’t done so, but it was too late, and on top of that his friend needed his helped.

The room was very large, as to be expected in a five-star hotel. The room wasn’t intended for hotel guests but for the personal use of the staff, which seemed a bit odd considering the number of computers there. It was clear that they wanted to keep up the same appearance of luxury visible from the exterior; in fact, he realized this as soon as he arrived at his suite. His room was like an immaculately furnished private luxury apartment; it had an enormous bed with a forty-two inch flat-screen television, a small games room with a pool table, and a bathroom with a jacuzzi which would make any fan of bubbles jump for joy. They had added all the finishing touches, even leaving him a small bag of relaxing bath salts. There were all kinds: aloe vera, lavender, rosemary… When he saw them, they reminded Richard of a report he had seen a couple of years ago which talked about the great benefits of thermal baths. Many joint complaints can be soothed by taking such baths. In fact, in ancient times they were used to relieve various bodily afflictions.

Suddenly another beep woke Richard from his reverie and for a moment he felt as if someone was approaching him from behind. It was the fax machine; it had run out of paper and someone was trying to use it.

After inserting a new roll of paper into the compartment, the noise stopped and the machine started to work. The first pages to emerge were bank details, outstanding debts and misdemeanors by some tourists at the hotel that were being looked into by their attorneys. Richard assumed that wasn’t what he was waiting for and placed it on a nearby table next to another pile of documents.

Then, the fax machine very slowly printed the pages of an incoming document. Whoever was sending them had obviously selected the highest possible resolution, increasing the quality of the document until it was very clear.

When the fax machine spat out the first page, he picked it up and, after giving it a quick glance, took a few steps back. He had instantly recognized the famous Trithemius cipher. However, the other pages left him rooted to the spot. He understood absolutely nothing of what was written, and if Richard didn’t understand it then very few others would, either.

When the machine stopped, he put them together and rolled them up. Then he unplugged the fax in order to erase the memory so that nobody could duplicate the document before finally leaving the room.

Outside, one of the receptionists had left and the one who remained cast him a sideways glance while he handed some keys over to a young couple who, from the way they looked, seemed to be on honeymoon in Rome. “Have you finished? I hope you were able to work in peace. My colleague had to print some documents and he went to the supervisor’s office so as not to disturb you.

“Yes, don’t worry. One more thing… could you give me the key to Room 501, please?”

The young man handed it over and Richard made his way to the elevator with his head bowed, remembering the suggestions, or rather warnings which his friend has given him. If the story James had told him was true, then the people who were after him were dangerous, had the latest technology, and no scruples whatsoever; it wouldn’t be difficult for them to find him.

After having second thoughts he turned around, looked at the receptionist and walked back over to him. “Sorry to bother you again. Are you and your colleague the only ones who know that I used the fax machine?”

“Yes, that’s correct. At the moment we are the only two working at reception. As you know, the hotel is organizing a big party for tomorrow and most of the staff are lending a hand so that it goes smoothly. They’re running a bit late so at ten o’clock, when our shift is over, we’re going to try and help them.”

Richard looked at his watch, there were five minutes until the changeover. Without thinking twice, he removed his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and, after checking how much he had, took out a five hundred euro bill and placed it inside a pamphlet. “Look, some people might come by asking for me tonight.” Richard saw hesitation and disbelief in the receptionist’s face; he seemed to have anticipated what he was going to do. “Could you do me a small favor?” Richard asked, handing the pamphlet to the receptionist.

After seeing what was inside, the bill quickly flew into the pocket of the young man, who smiled effusively. “Don’t worry. It’s not the first time that I’ve been asked to do something similar in this hotel. What does it involve?”

Richard quickly and concisely explained what he wanted him to do and then slipped away.

When he got to his room, it was freezing cold and a gust of icy air hit his face as soon as he walked in. Richard was somebody who was very sensitive to the cold; he preferred to sleep with the covers thrown back because it was too hot, than under two blankets and a duvet due to the cold. He looked for the control panel and turned on the heating in the hope that it worked well.

Meanwhile a dark-haired man who was almost six and a half feet tall and extremely thin entered the hotel. He wore a black leather knee-length coat, which revealed a pair of high boots with metal caps. He had long hair which was gelled back, and although his facial features were very sharp, they were practically hidden by the dark sunglasses which covered his eyes and the bushy beard which distorted his face.

He made his way to the hotel reception, exactly as his two German friends had told him. He had to be extremely careful, and there seemed to be over twenty people milling around in the hallway.

The new receptionist quickly noted his presence and, despite his clothing being completely at odds with that of the hotel’s clientele, he addressed him politely. “Good evening. How can we help you?”

“My name is Richard Matheson. My memory is awful - could you tell me my room number?”

Chapter 9

T
he text which lay before him was indeed incomprehensible, perhaps even more so than James had claimed.

Your ancient idol and your good friend Trithemius will help you to work it out.
Those words swirled round and round in his head since he had pressed the elevator button.
But what idol was he referring to? Obviously, it must be Leonardo Da Vinci.

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