lap with one perfectly manicured nail. “True, but Isabelle makes a good point. It was the wee hours of the morning, remember. May had been drinkin’ pretty hard a few hours earlier, and she was struggling to come to grips with the worst news anyone can get about her health. I’m thinkin’ this is a KISS code.”
“Kiss?” May looked puzzled.
“Keep It Simple, Stupid,” Duane and Becky said together, not even looking up from the letter in front of them.
May laughed out loud, something we hadn’t heard in a while but were very glad to hear now. “Okay, then, it shouldn’t take too long for six reasonably intelligent people to crack it. Where do we start?”
Perhaps the order of the song titles is significant,” I suggested. “The first pair of numbers is 6 and 3. That would translate to Best of My Love I Will Stand by You. The second pair is 1 and 2, which would be My Secret Place My Heart is an Open Book.” I looked up. “Does that make any sense to you?”
“Maybe she hid the drive in a book,” Margo guessed, “but what book and where?”
“Another possibility is that the numbers refer to the song lyrics, not the titles. Can we find those on line?” asked Isabelle.
“Can do,” Duane assured her and whipped out his iPhone. “What’s your wireless network key, May?”
“I have absolutely no idea. Do I have a wireless network?” May looked around, perplexed.
Duane put on his patient teenager face. “You have internet access in your office upstairs, right?”
May nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t be able to run my business without it.”
“And when you use your laptop down here, you can still access the internet.” She nodded again. “So you must have a network. It’s probably secured, but I can get on it if I have the code. Do you have a black box upstairs with a lot of, um, twinkling lights?”
“I was never sure what that was for. I had a computer tech set it up for me. It’s on top of the little file cabinet next to my desk.”
“Back in a flash.” Duane scrambled to his feet and thundered up the stairs.
“The key’s probably right on the black box,” Becky assured us.
Within seconds, Duane galloped back down the stairs, his fingers already busy on his phone. “Bingo,” he said. “This will go much faster now.”
By 10:30 p.m. our heads were swimming with song lyrics and titles assembled in dozens of configurations, but we were no closer to achieving our goal. May closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the sofa. “That’s it for tonight,” she pronounced. “I’m exhausted. Making up puzzles for someone else to solve is fun, but code cracking is hard work.”
“Are you going to that awards dinner tomorrow night, Auntie May, or are you going to take Lizabeth’s advice and bail out?”
May made a face and opened her eyes. “I think I have to go. For one thing, I’m not supposed to know yet that I’m not this year’s top prize winner, so people would think it’s strange if I don’t show up, not to mention disrespectful to the memory of my publisher. For another, I’ll be curious to hear what the membership is saying about Lizzie’s demise. Nothing like an unexpected death to get a bunch of mystery writers het up. And finally, I want to know if news of Trague’s final manuscript is common knowledge yet. So, yes, I’m going to the awards dinner, even though I’d just as soon jump off a bridge.”
Chapter Six
By noon on Saturday, I’d given myself a headache by taking one more crack at the blasted code in Lizabeth Mulgrew’s letter. I knew Armando wouldn’t call until Sunday morning, since this was the day of a highly competitive golf tournament among the Telecom reps, which traditionally was followed by an extended cocktail hour and dinner. Unable to postpone it any longer, I tackled the vacuuming, mopping and laundry, then made a serious run through the local Stop & Shop to replenish our food supplies. I decided to
“Kiss?” May looked puzzled.
“Keep It Simple, Stupid,” Duane and Becky said together, not even looking up from the letter in front of them.
May laughed out loud, something we hadn’t heard in a while but were very glad to hear now. “Okay, then, it shouldn’t take too long for six reasonably intelligent people to crack it. Where do we start?”
Perhaps the order of the song titles is significant,” I suggested. “The first pair of numbers is 6 and 3. That would translate to Best of My Love I Will Stand by You. The second pair is 1 and 2, which would be My Secret Place My Heart is an Open Book.” I looked up. “Does that make any sense to you?”
“Maybe she hid the drive in a book,” Margo guessed, “but what book and where?”
“Another possibility is that the numbers refer to the song lyrics, not the titles. Can we find those on line?” asked Isabelle.
“Can do,” Duane assured her and whipped out his iPhone. “What’s your wireless network key, May?”
“I have absolutely no idea. Do I have a wireless network?” May looked around, perplexed.
Duane put on his patient teenager face. “You have internet access in your office upstairs, right?”
May nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t be able to run my business without it.”
“And when you use your laptop down here, you can still access the internet.” She nodded again. “So you must have a network. It’s probably secured, but I can get on it if I have the code. Do you have a black box upstairs with a lot of, um, twinkling lights?”
“I was never sure what that was for. I had a computer tech set it up for me. It’s on top of the little file cabinet next to my desk.”
“Back in a flash.” Duane scrambled to his feet and thundered up the stairs.
“The key’s probably right on the black box,” Becky assured us.
Within seconds, Duane galloped back down the stairs, his fingers already busy on his phone. “Bingo,” he said. “This will go much faster now.”
By 10:30 p.m. our heads were swimming with song lyrics and titles assembled in dozens of configurations, but we were no closer to achieving our goal. May closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the sofa. “That’s it for tonight,” she pronounced. “I’m exhausted. Making up puzzles for someone else to solve is fun, but code cracking is hard work.”
“Are you going to that awards dinner tomorrow night, Auntie May, or are you going to take Lizabeth’s advice and bail out?”
May made a face and opened her eyes. “I think I have to go. For one thing, I’m not supposed to know yet that I’m not this year’s top prize winner, so people would think it’s strange if I don’t show up, not to mention disrespectful to the memory of my publisher. For another, I’ll be curious to hear what the membership is saying about Lizzie’s demise. Nothing like an unexpected death to get a bunch of mystery writers het up. And finally, I want to know if news of Trague’s final manuscript is common knowledge yet. So, yes, I’m going to the awards dinner, even though I’d just as soon jump off a bridge.”
Chapter Six
By noon on Saturday, I’d given myself a headache by taking one more crack at the blasted code in Lizabeth Mulgrew’s letter. I knew Armando wouldn’t call until Sunday morning, since this was the day of a highly competitive golf tournament among the Telecom reps, which traditionally was followed by an extended cocktail hour and dinner. Unable to postpone it any longer, I tackled the vacuuming, mopping and laundry, then made a serious run through the local Stop & Shop to replenish our food supplies. I decided to
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