Page 26 of Tightrope

“Businesses like that wouldn’t have a lot of reasons to send encrypted messages anyway,” she said.

“No, but governments, intelligence agencies, and various military organizations do. A few years ago the German army took control of thelicensing and production of the Enigma machines. After that, all sales had to be approved by the German army.”

Amalie shuddered. “War is coming, isn’t it?”

“To the heart of Europe, yes. And if England is drawn into the conflict, which is very likely, sooner or later we will become involved as well. The bottom line is that every government and every military in the world is now keenly interested in advanced cipher machine designs.”

“And that’s where Dr. Norman Pickwell comes in, I suppose?”

“He was in town to sell the prototype of the Ares cipher machine in a black market deal.”

Amalie reflected briefly on the unusual education she had received growing up in the circus. That was what happened when your trapeze artist father married a well-educated teacher with a head for business.

“Wasn’t Ares the Greek god of war?” she said.

Matthias’s mouth quirked at one corner, but not with humor. “Appropriate, don’t you think? Codes and ciphers have always been critical factors in warfare.”

“Did Dr. Pickwell invent this advanced cipher machine you’re looking for?”

“No. He stole it. Pickwell was, at best, an uninspired inventor whose goal was to perfect robots.”

“What did his robot, Futuro, have to do with a cipher machine?”

“The robot demonstration was meant to be both a cover and a distraction,” Matthias said. “Pickwell had been tinkering with mechanical men for years. Setting up a demonstration of Futuro gave him a plausible reason to be here in Burning Cove. This is where the sale of the Ares machine was supposed to take place.”

“If Pickwell didn’t invent the cipher machine, how did he get his hands on it?”

“From what I was able to tell when I examined the crime scene, Pickwell murdered the man who invented the Ares.”

“What?” Amalie set her coffee mug down with considerable force. “Dr. Pickwellkilledsomeone? That’s hard to believe. He was a very anxious, nervous person and I know that he was obsessed with the demonstration at the Palace, but it’s hard to imagine him as a murderer.”

“Anyone can kill given the right motive,” Matthias said.

He sounded so matter-of-fact she knew he’d had some practical experience in the matter. She thought about her last climb to the top of a trapeze six months earlier. The knowledge that she had been responsible for a man’s death—no matter how justified—still gave her nightmares. Until the night she’d been forced to fight for her life, she would have said that she was not capable of killing anyone.

“You’re right,” she said. “So, what was Pickwell’s motive? Money?”

“My read on Pickwell is that he was desperate for fame as a brilliant inventor.”

“Yourread?” she said.

“It’s what I do,” Matthias explained. “I look at a situation and try to analyze the bedrock truth in it. If you go deep enough, there is always some truth.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m an engineer by training but for the past few years I’ve been working as a consultant for a firm called Failure Analysis, Incorporated.”

“When things break, you figure out what went wrong?”

“Something like that. Once I identify the elements that don’t feel right, I can usually see a kind of road map that leads to the answers.”

“How does Luther Pell fit into this situation?” she asked.

“I thought I made it clear—I’m investigating this case for him.”

“In other words, he’s your client?”

“You could say that.”

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