by Estelle Ryan
Roxy giggled and winked at Nikki. “Eating for two again, are we?”
“Hey, gotta keep my strength up. Being on holiday is hard work.”
“Holiday.” Roxy sighed long and loudly. “Yes, I know that word. I’m even sure I once had this thing you call a holiday. Enjoy it while you can, babe. Ooh, there I go again. Interrupting things. What were you guys gossiping about before I came in?”
“Colin was telling me about a bad painting.” Nikki turned to Colin. “Do you have a photo of it?”
“I do.” Francine picked up her tablet from next to her plate and swiped the screen a few times before she handed it to Nikki. “Swipe to the right for the original.”
Nikki’s eyebrows shot up the moment she focused on the tablet screen. “Wow. You weren’t kidding. It’s like this guy didn’t even try to make it look like an Uccello original.”
“You know who painted this?” Manny asked.
“Yup. I mean, he’s like only one of the best Renaissance artists ever.” She curled her lip. “Not the person who painted this abomination. He’s really not an artist. Uccello was a true master with a style that was so unique, a lot of scholars prefer to call it idiosyncratic.” Her eyes widened in excitement. “Did you know he was also a mathematician? Cool, huh? He was obsessed with perspective and legend has it that he wouldn’t go to sleep until he got the exact vanishing point of whatever he was painting. He did a lot to pioneer visual perspective with his focus on creating a feeling of depth in his paintings. If you look at the works before his, they appear to be flat.”
Colin leaned back in his chair, his expression calculating. “Okay, Miss Know-It-All. Tell me what you see.”
“A test! Lucky me.” Nikki’s sarcasm was easy to recognise. It was always accompanied by a contraction of the orbicularis oculi muscles in the corner of her left eye, followed by a badly hidden eye roll. She gave Colin a look that attempted to communicate her fake ennui and turned her attention back to the tablet. For the next minute, the only sound around the table was Roxy’s cutlery against her plate as she ate her bolognese. Nikki’s tongue protruded between her lips as she tilted the tablet this way and that. A few times she zoomed in on parts of the painting before zooming out and swiping to see the original.
I watched her expressions closely for any recognition of an anomaly. When her eyebrows rose and her head tilted, I smiled. She zoomed and swiped until her narrowed eyes and slight smile told me she had come to a conclusion. “I see it! The letters. They are in the princess’ cloak, the clouds and the horse’s front legs. For such a bad painting, they’re quite well hidden.”
“How many letters do you see?” I was sure I’d found them all, but there was a remote possibility Nikki might see something I hadn’t.
“Um. Seven. But they’re like bundles of letters. Hey, wait! These are all V’s, X’s and I’s.” She looked at me. “Could these all be Roman numerals?”
“That is my inference, yes.”
“Inference, huh?” She winked at me. “So what do all these Roman numerals mean? And how do we know which order to put these letters to get the right number?”
“Often, the simplest answer is the right answer. For now, I’m taking the letters in the order they appear. On the cloak, we see three ‘X’s, a ‘V’, and an ‘I’. I’m reading it left to right and am concluding that we are supposed to see thirty-four.”
“Okay.” She drew out the last syllable while processing my answer. “But what order are the numbers in then? And what do they mean? Is it an IP address? A GPS co-ordinate? A telephone number?”
“I’m running the six numbers through a programme, hoping we’ll find out where they’re supposed to lead us.” Francine reached for her tablet and Nikki handed it over. “But I do know it’s not an IP address, a GPS co-ordinate or a telephone number. I checked all of those first.”
“Hmm.” Nikki looked at me. “You found something else with those numbers, didn’t you? I missed something, didn’t I?”
“Could it be that all those numbers are part of the Fibonacci sequence?” Roxy pushed her empty plate away and reached for her wine glass.
“Fibonacci?” Nikki looked at Roxy, then at me and back at Roxy, her eyes big. “Oh, my God! We like totally studied the spiral in my first year. It’s amazing how many paintings can have that spiral overlaid to show how well the painting fits in each one of those squares.”
“I know.” Roxy leaned forward. “The Fibonacci sequence forms what is called the Golden Ratio, which is one point six one six. Apparently our faces are most attractive when they have the Golden Ratio. And it is said that the distance between our first and second knuckle, and second and third knuckle, all have that ratio.”
“How cool!” Nikki stretched her fingers out in front of her and stared at them.
“You’ll find this interesting, Nix.” Roxy smiled at Nikki. “There’s a gynaecologist from Belgium who measured more than five thousand uteruses and found that the uterus ratio in newborn girls is about two and shrinks down to one point four six in old age. But, in the most fertile years of a woman’s life, the ratio is around one point six. Fibonacci’s Golden Ratio. Even the spirals of human DNA embody these proportions.”
It amused me to watch both Manny and Vinnie follow the conversation. Manny looked bored and annoyed, but was listening intently. I knew he would catalogue the information and use it at a time everyone else would least expect it. Vinnie looked proud. When Nikki gave more examples of the Fibonacci spiral in art and even nature, he leaned back, his chest pushed out. And when Roxy continued with how the Golden Ratio had also been used in the pyramids in Egypt, a smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth. It was as if he was taking credit for his loved ones’ knowledge and intellect.
“Okay, you two smartarses.” Manny shifted in his chair. “Maybe you two can come up with a way to make this Finobracci circle relevant to Emad and Alain.”
“It’s the Fibonacci spiral.” Nikki rolled her eyes. “I understand why Doc G gets so annoyed with you.”
“It is exasperating.” Especially since I was incapable of ignoring it.
Manny shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what the name of that spiral-thingie is. If we don’t know what to do with it, that thing is completely useless to us.”
“Maybe there’s an app for it.” Nikki giggled when Roxy held out her hand to give her a high five. A few days ago, Manny had complained about all the apps Nikki had been talking about. Her generation used mobile applications to find restaurants, hail taxis, avoid traffic jams, monitor the number of steps they took each day and even collect comic characters at landmarks all over the world. Roxy had joined Nikki in teasing Manny for only having one app on his phone—a news agency’s.
“An app!” Francine’s loud exclamation startled me. “Nix, you’re a genius!”
She grabbed her tablet and began to tap and swipe with intent. Nikki looked at Francine for another second, then shrugged, her eyebrow raised. “Of course I am a genius. It took you little people so very long to figure it out.”
“Ooh! Ooh!” Francine stared at her tablet, her eyes wide.
“What happened, supermodel?” Manny leaned to the side to look at her tablet screen. He scowled. “What does that mean?”
“Um, I think it means what it says, handsome.” Francine turned the tablet for me to see the screen. “I put the clone of Alain’s phone on my tablet and entered the numbers into the app Emad had uploaded to his phone.”
“Alain said it was a Scrabble application.” Which I assumed would require words.
“It looks like it, but I entered the Roman numerals in the order they appear on the spiral of his horrid painting and this is what it gave me.” She shook the tablet a bit.
I narrowed my eyes and studied the screen. Huge white letters filled most of the screen, a photo of the badly painted copy of Uccello in the background.
“‘Well done, Dad! You’ve just made it to the next level. Another clue on the way.’” Nikki frowned. “Anothe
r clue? Does that mean another butt-ugly painting?”
I didn’t answer her. I didn’t know what it meant. But I did know that we had just received irrefutable confirmation that Emad had sent the painting. And that this game he was playing had only just started.
Manny phoned Alain, but the older man hadn’t heard from Emad or received another painting. Francine tried more options with the app, but didn’t get any other results. In the end it was Roxy who convinced us to stop talking about work and retire to the entertainment area to watch a movie together.
It was a mindless action film with outrageous inaccuracies and physically impossible feats, yet it didn’t bother me as much as it usually did. I was distracted and used the opportunity to mentally go over everything we’d learned in the last nine hours.
I avoided thinking too much about Fradkov’s soft-spoken threats, Otto’s death and that the assassin was moving around freely knowing that we’d witnessed him committing premeditated murder. Most of my energy was spent on trying to connect Emad, Fradkov, the painting Alain had received and the Fibonacci sequence.
I needed more data. I only hoped it would not come at the cost of more lives.
Chapter FIVE
I was most displeased with the change in my routine. Even though Vinnie had made a valid argument for me joining him, I felt disoriented. I hated the feeling. There was a certain morning routine I liked to follow. This morning, I hadn’t even had the opportunity to finish my breakfast.
Vinnie had received an early-morning phone call from his friend Justine, inviting him for breakfast. He’d been surprised that she was currently in Strasbourg and immediately suspected that she wanted to talk to him about Fradkov. She hadn’t admitted as much, citing insecure phone lines, but Vinnie was convinced that there was no other reason for her invitation.
He had insisted I join him. Colin had assumed that meant he was to come as well and now the three of us were in an elevator in the highest-rated hotel in Strasbourg. I crossed my arms and looked at the hotel employee standing quietly next to the buttons. The security in this hotel was similar to most high-end European hotels and we couldn’t go unescorted to Justine’s presidential suite.
The man was in his mid-thirties with a strong jaw, high cheekbones and light brown eyes framed by thick eyelashes. His build and height would make him attractive to women of all ages. I was more interested in the unobtrusiveness he had mastered. His movements were controlled, his arms kept close to his body, his head was lowered and he seldom made eye contact.
“Did she say why she’s in Strasbourg?” Colin asked Vinnie, glancing at the porter, who showed no reaction.
“She’s here for something to do with her granddaughter.” Vinnie also looked at the porter, but when the younger man showed no signs of listening, he continued. “She didn’t want to share her trip too early in case someone found out about it.”
I was fascinated by this. Both Colin and Vinnie were extremely security-conscious, yet the porter had successfully convinced them that their conversation was confidential. I wondered how many secrets this man had heard while taking guests up to the rooms.
I had many questions to ask Vinnie, but was not going to be lulled into a false sense of safety by the man’s nonverbal skills. The short ride continued in silence until we reached the eleventh floor. The porter held his hand in front of the opened doors to indicate we could exit. He escorted us to a set of double doors and rang the doorbell.
A few seconds later, both doors swung open and we were greeted by a girl I estimated to be around seventeen years old. Her eyes widened and a smile lifted her cheeks when she saw Vinnie. “You’re really here! I thought Granny was kidding.”
Vinnie opened his arms and the girl rushed forward and threw her arms around his waist. Colin glanced into the living area, his eyes pausing on each painting that adorned the walls. No one noticed the porter leaving.
“Vinnie, you ugly so-and-so.” An elderly lady came from a room to the left of the living area, her body language welcoming. She was wearing loose dark beige pants and a flowing dark green top. A pale-green scarf appeared to have been carelessly knotted around her neck, completing the natural and relaxed-chic look. She had aged very elegantly. “Alexis, let these people in. You can’t let them stand in the doorway all day.”
“Oops. Sorry.” Alexis stepped out of Vinnie’s embrace and waved her hand towards the luxurious living area. “Please come in.”
“It’s good to see you again, my friend.” Justine hugged Vinnie warmly, then kissed him on both cheeks. She looked at us as she stepped back. “You brought friends.”
“Not just friends.” Vinnie pushed out his chest, the pride in his expression evident. “This is my best bud and her pretty boyfriend.”
Everyone laughed. I understood the importance of jest in any social situation, even though I didn’t understand why Vinnie would belittle his best male friend by reducing him to mere physical features. I decided to ask Colin about this later and followed everyone into the suite.
The living area was spacious, the furniture of top quality and the finishings of similar standard to Phillip’s business and home. This was clearly designed for those scant individuals who could afford such luxurious beauty.
I studied Justine laughing with Vinnie over something Alexis was telling them. She looked to be in her mid- to late fifties. Being the grandmother of a sixteen-year-old, she was most probably in her sixties. Genetics were in her favour, her skin showing only a few laughter lines and her figure slim. She moved with the grace of people who did yoga or dancing.
“Alexis, go do your internet things.” Justine waved her granddaughter towards a door to the right. “We’re going to plan to take over the world.”
Alexis giggled and walked away singing about a pinkie and a brain. There was so much about the last five minutes I didn’t understand. Yet I didn’t ask. Already, my non-neurotypical brain was struggling with the change in routine. Spending too much time trying to analyse illogical behaviour was the next step to overwhelming my senses and going into a shutdown.
“Let’s go into the dining room.” Justine led us into a room with a dark wood dining room table that could seat six people. A beautiful chandelier hung from the ceiling and the table was set for breakfast. Justine sat down and regarded the food laid out in front of her. “I didn’t know what you guys and gal eat, so I ordered everything. Carnivores and vegans alike can feast on this.”
She was correct. There was a plate with assorted dried meats, another plate with cheeses, one bowl with whole fruit and another with a mixed fruit salad. Pastries, bread and a selection of yogurts and cereals completed the generous breakfast. Even though I hadn’t eaten, I was hesitant to eat the food from a hotel I was not familiar with.
Vinnie saw my reluctance and chuckled. “This hotel has won quite a few awards and is highly rated on the travel blogs and sites.”
“You’re still reading all those cooking blogs?” Justine put the dishing fork back on the plate with meats, but changed her mind and put another two slices of ham on her plate.
“This is not just any cooking blog.” Vinnie reached for the pastries. “This woman goes to the best restaurants and hotels and does an inspection of their kitchen. She’s brutal! The hotels and restaurants love and hate her. If your kitchen passes her OCD inspection, there will be a crazy influx of new customers. People like to know that their food comes from clean kitchens.”
Still I didn’t take any of the food.
Colin took a banana from the fruit bowl and held it out to me. “It’s not like they can touch and contaminate this, love.”
Justine’s laughter filled the room. “Never thought about bananas that way. Must be the most hygienic fruit to eat then.”
“Bananas are the only fruit that contains tryptophan, an amino acid. It combines with the vitamin B6 in bananas to help the body produce serotonin. Bananas can make a person feel happier.” I took the banana from Colin and nodded when he held the coffee pot over
the cup on my right.
“Oh, my word! You’re a walking, talking Wikipedia.” Justine’s eyes were wide with mirth.
“Wikipedia is not a source to be trusted. There are countless inaccuracies in many articles. The information I have is accurate, without dispute.”
“Well, there we have it then.” Justine pointed her coffee cup at me. “I know you’re Vinnie’s best bud, but I would like to know your name.”
“I’m Genevieve Lenard.”
“Doctor Genevieve Lenard,” Vinnie said before I could continue. “She’s the smartest of us all.”
“Not smart enough if she’s hanging out with you.” Justine winked at me. “And why do I have the honour of your presence, Doctor Lenard?”
“Vinnie insisted that I accompany him.” I put the unpeeled banana on my plate. “I don’t want to be here.”
Her eyes narrowed and most of the jovial welcoming cues left her face. “Feel free to leave, my dear. No one is holding you at gunpoint.”
“Jen-girl is just pissed off that I messed up her morning routine.” Vinnie didn’t look concerned at Justine’s unfriendliness. “She will be glad she’s here once you tell me why you invited me for this fantastic spread.”
Justine nodded at Colin and me, but looked at Vinnie. “Are these the people helping you find Fradkov?”
“They are. They’re the best, Justine. If anyone’s going to find Fradkov, it will be me and my team.”
“Hmm.” She turned to Colin. “So you’re the one Vinnie told me I shouldn’t ask about.”
Colin smiled. “You can ask. We’re on the same side here.”
“Yeah. We’ll see about that.” She glanced at me. “Look, I don’t care who you are and what kind of doctor you are. All I care about is catching that fucker who killed my two boys and their wives. I would prefer to catch him myself and spend a few hours torturing the shit out of him, but I’m a bit busy with my four grandchildren. They should not be left on their own because their grandmother is in prison.”
