Bobby followed Henry into his office. Henry handed his notebook to him and said, “Mickey tended to write in code. I hadn’t talked to him in a few years, and he always changed the way he took his notes. Back in the day, we used to have breakfast, and he would explain his latest method for encryption. I guess what I am asking is, what is the first thing that comes to mind when you see this?”
Bobby, excited again, said, “Oh, I love a puzzle! This page looks like a list. Not just a list. It looks like a list of names. Those two people with the stick figures have something in common, as do the three people with the picture frames.”
“Picture frames...” Henry said aloud, then continued, “Those are not just squares…they are thicker. They do look like picture frames. Bobby, that is a good find!”
Bobby was nearly bursting with excitement. “What do you think the picture frames mean?”
“I think they represent art. Maybe those names are a list of painters?”
Bobby, almost hyperventilating, said, “Then the stick figures are statues. Those other people must be sculptors.”
Henry smiled. “This is a good lead. I need to make some calls. Thanks for your help, buddy.”
Bobby did a little leap, spun around, and bolted out of the office. He yelled as he exited the waiting room, “Any time, buddy!”
Henry had to smile. He took a dirty coffee mug, grabbed an even dirtier towel, and made a half-hearted attempt at wiping it out. After pouring a cup, he added some sugar and stirred it while he returned to his desk. In his left hand he held the coffee cup, and on the desk, the open notebook. The coffee tasted good, but the idea about painters and sculptors seemed a touch sour.
Why would Mickey get bumped off because he was looking into a bunch of artists?
Henry didn’t think artists were the murdering type, but he couldn’t be sure. Katarina knew much more about the art scene, so he jotted down a note to ask her what she thought about it.
Henry picked up the phone and called the public library. He asked the head librarian, Marian, if she had any books about Catherine the Great, especially ones that might have portraits that had been painted during her lifetime. She promised to find some and leave them behind the counter for him to pick up.
Henry flipped forward to page three and said aloud, “Anti Catherine.”
Bobby’s sense that the list had something to do with art, plus Mr. Brown being an art collector, seemed to be pointing in the same direction. Henry mulled this over for a few minutes and then he said to the walls, “Not artists, collectors!”
He flipped back to the list, grabbed a yellow pad, and counted the letters next to each number.
The sixth number had seven letters, followed by five letters. If this was “W-i-l-l-i-a-m B-r-o-w-n,” then Henry would have a great start at cracking the code.
Chapter Eleven
November 10, 1902 was a date Henry knew well. It had very little significance, besides being on the cornerstone of his favorite building in New York.
Henry walked towards 5th and 42nd street. If New York was a jungle, then the kings of the jungle could be found guarding the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building. South of the main steps, surveying those who passed by seeking knowledge, was Patience. Always vigilant, Fortitude kept an eye open for trouble. They were originally called “Leo Astor” and “Leo Lenox,” named for the founders of the New York Public Library, but Mayor LaGuardia renamed them in the 1930s, and it stuck.
Patience and Fortitude would both be required to find Mickey’s killer. As Henry walked past, there were tourists gawking at Patience and speaking in a tongue he couldn’t recognize. The words were unclear, but the admiration was evident.
Henry knew his way around the library and loved wandering the stacks, but today there wouldn’t be any time for a bibliophile to explore.
Marian was helping an elderly man check out his books. Henry waited patiently in line. When she saw Henry, Marian reached under the counter and pulled out three books. The smile told Henry he could grab them and go find a nook or cranny and dig in. Five minutes later, Henry was reading all about Catherine the Great.
Catherine took power when her husband, Peter III, was deposed in a conspiracy. This was all very interesting, but didn’t seem relevant. A thought crossed Henry’s mind. He knew so little about the list of names that it was hard to tell if any of the history of her life might be important. Still, there wasn’t much else to do before meeting Katarina for dinner, so he continued for another two hours.
Henry’s head was swimming with miscellaneous facts and bits of Russian history. His second wind was gone, and he yawned as he closed up the third book. He walked past a couple of NYU students who were more focused on studying one another than their physics. The young man had his hand on her elbow and was whispering something in the blonde’s ear. She was giggling. It was nice.