For one reason or another, Jasmine puzzled him. She did not have the kind of muscle tone that suggested anything more than low-impact workouts: health and vanity workouts, he called them. Her knife skills, at least on a melon, seemed ordinary. She had been reading from an e-reader on the terrace, but she had turned it off before he could see what was on it. He knew he could just go over and ask her questions, but where was the fun in that?
He preferred to figure it out on his own.
Jasmine pulled some wicker trays from a cabinet beside the sink. She set them on the granite tabletop - not avoiding eye contact with anyone but not going out of her way to make it, either. She seemed oblivious to McNutt’s wide-eyed admiration.
No doubt she got that a lot.
Their host, who had disappeared for about five minutes, returned. He stood at the edge of the kitchen and stated, ‘If everyone will please take their refreshments into the dining room, I would like to make this a working lunch.’
* * *
Dark clouds had rolled in and the daily Florida summer rainstorm was in full swing by the time the group got to the long dining room. Papineau stood at the head of the large table, waiting for each to take a seat.
Garcia sat with his back to the sea, closest to their host. Jasmine put a plate of sliced fruit on the table, selected some, and sat opposite Garcia. That made it easier for McNutt, who sat next to her with a self-conscious laugh. Sarah sat opposite.
Cobb took a seat at the end of the table, opposite their host. He put the platter of sandwiches there, and checked his cell phone in his lap while he waited.
‘You are aware by now that each of you has been recruited and tested,’ Papineau said. ‘This was done so that I might offer you the opportunity to become part of a unique mission - one that, if successfully completed, will shower you in riches.’
Papineau let that sink in, and the reaction was gratifying. McNutt smiled crookedly. Sarah grinned with anticipation. Garcia’s eyes sparkled. Jasmine was reflective. Cobb just watched the others and could see all their minds racing.
Papineau continued. ‘Jasmine Park is fluent in many languages, with an exhaustive knowledge of ancient cultures and world religions. She is our historian.’
‘What did you test her with? A pop quiz?’ McNutt asked.
‘No,’ Papineau said. ‘Jasmine? Would you care to share?’
The young woman looked at the others. ‘I work at the Korean Daily News in Orlando. Yesterday my editor asked me to investigate a document that had been sent to the FBI. He’s got a friend in the Bureau who sometimes gives him leads, and in exchange we’ve held certain stories or disseminated information in ways that can help investigations. His friend explained that it was supposedly a ransom note associated with two young girls who had recently been kidnapped, but they couldn’t make head or tail of the language used. He knew I had a knack for that sort of thing and thought I might be able to help.’
Garcia wrinkled his brow. ‘He asked you to translate? Why didn’t they use computers? Just scan it in and presto! The program spits out the translation.’
‘No,’ Jasmine assured him. ‘A computer translation wouldn’t have worked. The document was written in five distinctly different languages. Not colloquial slang or dialects, but languages that grew from entirely separate roots. What’s more, their syntaxes were blended.’
‘I don’t follow,’ McNutt said.
‘The conjugations and grammatical structure were a combination of the various languages represented. Greek words were rearranged into Gaelic formations. Sometimes the sentences themselves were inconsistent. Phrases that began in Italian ended in Swedish. It even included defunct language concepts that have long since been lost to cultural evolution.’
‘Like Middle English?’ Sarah asked.
‘No, like ancient Andorran,’ Jasmine replied. ‘Middle English is easy. Anyone who’s ever studied Chaucer has dealt with that. But some of the words in the document were taken from languages that were only briefly spoken in their prime. Today, they have been absorbed into neighboring languages or discontinued altogether. No one studies them, because understanding them doesn’t provide any more information than understanding the languages they became. The history of these places has been passed down in much more accessible documentation.’
Jasmine caught herself. She could go on with the explanation, but she doubted that the others shared her fervor.
‘No one studies them, but you do?’ Cobb asked. His tone stressed curiosity, not ridicule.
Jasmine shrugged. ‘What can I say? I like history, and words, and the history of words.’