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“Put him on.”
When Lazlo spoke, he sounded exuberant. “Greetings and salutations. Your Japanese diary definitely held some surprises.”
“I presume you’re not talking about particularly resonant poems, Lazlo.”
“Actually, the prose was agonizing—a lot of bloodred sunsets and still water, that sort of thing. Terribly amateur. But the substitution cypher wasn’t.”
“Substitution cypher,” Sam repeated.
“That’s correct. But even once I cracked it with my program, I’m not sure it makes a huge amount of sense. It’s rather oblique.”
“Why don’t you tell me what it says?”
“I’ll do one better. I’ve shot my findings to your e-mail. Check it as soon as you can and see if it means anything to you. It’s possible I missed some key parts. I’ll continue checking, but I doubt it.”
“Can you summarize?”
“Rather a lot of blather about a village, a waterfall, that sort of thing. Seems like directions, but I’d think longitude and latitude would have been more useful.”
“It’s possible he didn’t have access to his notes or a GPS when he wrote it,” Sam joked.
“That’s certainly one explanation. The other is that he was wary that someone would crack the code. I should say that’s unlikely, given the technology in use during the war, but it’s a possibility. Nowadays, of course, a car has more computing power than the entire Allied cryptology effort, so for a seasoned pro like me it’s child’s play.”
“Which is why we’re glad you’re on our team, Lazlo,” Sam assured him.
“Take a gander at it and call Selma or me if you have any questions. Meanwhile, I’ll stay on it.”
“Thank you, Lazlo. Nice work.”
“I hope it helps. Selma is as tight-lipped as the Sphinx when it comes to what you two are up to over there. It’s all I could do to drag a few tidbits out of her.”
“We’ve located a sunken city, and it looks like there was a treasure of some sort the Japanese located and hid before they evacuated the island. Your contribution may be the key to finding it.” Sam smiled at Remi. “Lazlo, are you busy with anything at the moment?”
“I’m debating writing the great American novel. But then I remember I’m British and watch the telly instead.”
“Think you could stomach a flight to the lovely Solomon Islands to help us on our treasure hunt?”
Remi gave Sam a sidelong glance and sighed. There was no hesitation when Lazlo answered. “I’ll be on the next plane out.”
“That would put you here in a couple of days.”
“Don’t go and find the treasure without me.”
“Might want to have Selma get you a can of crocodile repellent and some giant spray. Oh, and a Kevlar vest in case there’s more rioting or assassinations.”
“What’s that you say?”
“Never mind. Dress for the tropics. Let us know when your flight arrives so we can roll out the welcome committee.”
“Will do.”
Remi signaled to the waiter for a refill of coffee as Sam hung up and she fixed him with a skeptical eye. “We really need Lazlo here?”
“He’s bouncing off the walls with nothing to do. And he did decode the diary.” He told her about the cypher and the e-mail.
“So our suspicions were correct. Kumasaka hid the treasure, planning to come back for it after the war,” Remi said.
“Or once the Allies were driven back by the might of the Axis powers.”