Page 93
He stepped out of the narrow space so that they could see for themselves. Sam examined the desk, as well as the empty drawer. “Any hidden compartments?” Sam asked.
“I don’t believe so. But feel free to check for yourself.”
Sam felt around inside the drawer, then beneath the desk. “Remi, take a look. You seem to have better luck with this sort of thing.”
Remi took his place but, after a few minutes, shook her head. “Nothing.”
“What is it you’re searching for? I’m familiar with many of the family heirlooms. Perhaps I can help.”
Sam showed him the cell phone photo of the tin.
“That would explain it,” Laurenz said. “The display here was for historical value, as you can see from the pen and ink set. Had they found a typewriter ribbon, they would have either thrown it out or taken it to the office where the typewriter was located.”
“Any chance you have a typewriter and ribbon set up anywhere?”
“Unfortunately, no. You have my curiosity piqued, though. What’s so important about a typewriter ribbon tin? I can’t imagine it’d be worth all that much on the antique market.”
“Probably not,” Sam said. “In this case, it was one of a set of three. We think that, together, the three tins are part of a code or message. Possibly the items were used in some sort of spy operation. We checked for hidden messages on the spools. Nothing.”
“As a history buff, I happen to know a bit about that sort of thing. May I see the photo again?”
Sam brought up the picture, then handed him the phone.
He looked at the tin, his expression one of mild curiosity as he enlarged the picture, staring at it for a few seconds. “Are there more photos of the tins?”
“Several. Feel free to look.”
The man swiped his finger across the screen, accessing the next photo, enlarging it, then moving on to the next, until he’d looked at each in that file. “Interesting . . . It’s definitely not a method I’ve seen . . . but it makes sense . . .”
“What does?” Sam asked, unable to see the actual photos and what he seemed to be focusing on.
“If I had to guess, these tins were chosen precisely because they appeared innocuous. What was your first inclination when you found them?”
“To see what was inside.”
“And not pay attention to the tin itself beyond a cursory glance, no doubt.” He showed them the photo of the underside of one tin. “Pay particular attention to the manufacturer’s stamp on both the tins. At first glance, they appear identical.”
Sam took the phone, noting the small diamond stamped on the bottom. The rust made it difficult to see, but there was definitely something in the center of the diamond. He enlarged it, showing it to Remi. “Numbers.”
“Yes,” Laurenz said. “Now, look at the other.”
Sam swiped through the photos to the second tin from the Project Riese tunnels. The bottom of this one, having been in the desk in the cave, had no rust at all, and it was easy to see what was stamped inside the diamond. “Roman numerals.”
“Exactly,” Laurenz replied. “That is your message.”
“Two-thirds of our message,” Remi said. “We’re still missing the third tin.”
Sam took one last look at the photos before putting the phone in his pocket. “Any idea what it might mean?”
“I can’t help you there.”
Sam shook hands with him. “Definitely more than we knew before we got here. Thank you. We appreciate your time.”
Remi shook hands as well. “At least the key is back where it belongs.”
“For which we’d like to thank you,” Laurenz said. “We have a very nice restaurant that overlooks the water. Take a tour of the castle and stay for lunch. Our treat.”
“As much as we’d like to,” Sam said, “we really have to get going. Thank you again for your time.”
“I don’t believe so. But feel free to check for yourself.”
Sam felt around inside the drawer, then beneath the desk. “Remi, take a look. You seem to have better luck with this sort of thing.”
Remi took his place but, after a few minutes, shook her head. “Nothing.”
“What is it you’re searching for? I’m familiar with many of the family heirlooms. Perhaps I can help.”
Sam showed him the cell phone photo of the tin.
“That would explain it,” Laurenz said. “The display here was for historical value, as you can see from the pen and ink set. Had they found a typewriter ribbon, they would have either thrown it out or taken it to the office where the typewriter was located.”
“Any chance you have a typewriter and ribbon set up anywhere?”
“Unfortunately, no. You have my curiosity piqued, though. What’s so important about a typewriter ribbon tin? I can’t imagine it’d be worth all that much on the antique market.”
“Probably not,” Sam said. “In this case, it was one of a set of three. We think that, together, the three tins are part of a code or message. Possibly the items were used in some sort of spy operation. We checked for hidden messages on the spools. Nothing.”
“As a history buff, I happen to know a bit about that sort of thing. May I see the photo again?”
Sam brought up the picture, then handed him the phone.
He looked at the tin, his expression one of mild curiosity as he enlarged the picture, staring at it for a few seconds. “Are there more photos of the tins?”
“Several. Feel free to look.”
The man swiped his finger across the screen, accessing the next photo, enlarging it, then moving on to the next, until he’d looked at each in that file. “Interesting . . . It’s definitely not a method I’ve seen . . . but it makes sense . . .”
“What does?” Sam asked, unable to see the actual photos and what he seemed to be focusing on.
“If I had to guess, these tins were chosen precisely because they appeared innocuous. What was your first inclination when you found them?”
“To see what was inside.”
“And not pay attention to the tin itself beyond a cursory glance, no doubt.” He showed them the photo of the underside of one tin. “Pay particular attention to the manufacturer’s stamp on both the tins. At first glance, they appear identical.”
Sam took the phone, noting the small diamond stamped on the bottom. The rust made it difficult to see, but there was definitely something in the center of the diamond. He enlarged it, showing it to Remi. “Numbers.”
“Yes,” Laurenz said. “Now, look at the other.”
Sam swiped through the photos to the second tin from the Project Riese tunnels. The bottom of this one, having been in the desk in the cave, had no rust at all, and it was easy to see what was stamped inside the diamond. “Roman numerals.”
“Exactly,” Laurenz replied. “That is your message.”
“Two-thirds of our message,” Remi said. “We’re still missing the third tin.”
Sam took one last look at the photos before putting the phone in his pocket. “Any idea what it might mean?”
“I can’t help you there.”
Sam shook hands with him. “Definitely more than we knew before we got here. Thank you. We appreciate your time.”
Remi shook hands as well. “At least the key is back where it belongs.”
“For which we’d like to thank you,” Laurenz said. “We have a very nice restaurant that overlooks the water. Take a tour of the castle and stay for lunch. Our treat.”
“As much as we’d like to,” Sam said, “we really have to get going. Thank you again for your time.”
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