To Sketch a Sphinx - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,61
might be the key.”
Hal stroked his arm gently in response. “Why is that?”
“Hard to say.” He eyed the music again, nodding to himself. “This feels right. I cannot explain any further than that, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t need further than that. Let’s go to work.”
John glanced at her as she left his side and pulled out another chair from the table. “You’re going to help?”
Hal gave him a quizzical look. “Yes… You have quite a number of letters there, and we will be trying a number of solutions to get that damned code to reveal itself. I can follow instructions well, so tell me what to do.” To emphasize the point, she sat and placed her hands in her lap, waiting for him to follow.
He’d had help before, this was no novelty, but more often than not, he preferred working in solitude, thought more clearly without assistance or spectators.
This, however, he felt he could do with ease.
“Very well, Ange,” he murmured taking his seat once more. “First, let’s look at the song.”
Hal nodded once. “Why?”
John laid the music down and smiled in near exasperation. “Why? Are you going to question the entire process?”
“Not questioning,” she replied without a hint of amusement or ruffling. “Inquiring. Why do you want to look at the song?”
Her curious mind was really something of a wonder, and he had no qualms about satiating it however he could.
“Because,” he explained, pulling a letter and one of his discarded attempts at deciphering it over, “it is clear to me, from the errors so far, that there is a layered aspect to their code. You were clever enough to see significance in the opera Napoleon loved and that our Faction friends quoted. It seems to me that there is something about this song that resonates with them, and if it were only a matter of words, I should have seen some pattern already.”
A puckered furrow appeared between her brows as she craned her neck to look at the letter again. “But there are any number of phrases from the song that could have been used. How do you know?”
John reached for the music again and searched for the phrase he needed before pointing at it. “Because everything has meaning to the Faction. Why else would they have chosen that exact phrase to recite in response to the usual Sieyès quote? People love hidden meanings, Ange, and we are dealing with a group of quite dedicated idealists.”
Hal nodded repeatedly, now looking at the music with him. “So, what would we use in this song, if we were them?”
“Well,” he said on an exhale, letting his eyes rove the page at will, “I’ve seen music used before, mostly taking familiar tunes and changing them somehow to suit the needs of a code. This, however, strikes me as something rather pure to our friends, so I cannot believe they would alter it…”
His words trailed off as he began laying out the pages of the song, tracking here and there for ideas and options, the melody floating in and out of memory out of sheer habit. But there had to be something obvious, else new additions to the Faction’s circle would struggle immensely with communication.
Unless all communication was only exchanged between important members.
Not that such a level of significance had much relevance here. Any of the members could have copies of the music at their residences, much as they did here, and simply followed the pattern for deciphering as laid out.
But what was the pattern, and how could he find it?
“Do you read music, John?” Hal asked after a moment, her voice somehow seeming far away.
He nodded absently. “Rather well, as it happens. Jeremy took more pains to dance to music, while I was far more interested in playing it. Mother wanted us both tutored in music, but Jeremy would have none of it.”
“Do you sing?”
“Not at all.” He smiled but kept his eyes on the music. “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”
Hal laughed and took a letter from the stack to review. “I believe I will recover.”
John went back to the first page and looked at every mark thereon. The description of emotion of a part, the notations on volume, each phrase that repeated itself in lyrics. Still, none of that answered his questions.
What was he looking for? What could they…?
“Could they?” he murmured to himself, returning to the beginning of the song as an idea struck him. “Why not? Simple, yet effective, and not plain to the naked eye…” He found