Kowalski, Analysis!

So, what kind of information did they collect on Erin?

The answer, it turns out, is not very much. From all of the briefings stuffed into the filing cabinet, I’ve read almost nothing substantive. To be fair, I’ve been skimming most of the reports, but that’s because they all read like mad speculation on the information that they have gathered:

Grocery order signals shift to Indian cuisine. Potentially working with somebody in the region? Or just a coincidence? Note connection with internet searches for homemade ghee just hours before, indicating this was not something planned well in advance. Potentially a ruse to also collect additional fats for some other purpose…

Message logs indicate Erin, Genevieve and Ricardo are growing further apart. Average time between message sent and message read has grown by four-point-four seconds when compared to the same period last week, while time to response has grown by five-point-seven seconds. Eight messages sent were left hanging, as opposed to only five in the prior week. Sentiment analysis picks up a greater amount of affection between the three, but this may be them trying to mask the strain on the relationship that they’re placing with each other…

Heat guns show that Erin spent twelve minutes in the shower today, over two-standard-deviations above the norm. Could there be some secret activities being conducted in there? The external water meter that we’ve attached to the pipes detects the appropriate amount of water used for a twelve minute shower, but she may have left the shower running while conducting other tasks. Maybe this is how contact with the Knave is established. Our attempts to sneak a camera into the household via the latest take-out order has once again failed. Garbage was disposed, although we did get a brief look into the kitchen while they were taking out the food. Everything looks as it did before…

I put down the latest report and sigh, looking at the five men and women clustered by the front of the room. They’re still arguing over the set of numbers on display there. Somehow, I feel like I haven’t been given the complete set of records. There’s no way this group of people, Vidocq included, could be so incompetent. Is this a test?

I stride up to the front of the room and drop the pile of briefings on the table. It lands with a satisfying thud, drawing the attention of Vidocq and the others.

“Something the matter?” one of them asks.

She’s the only woman in the group, and I notice that she’s missing her right hand. I also notice that she’s damn attractive—jet black hair and smouldering eyes that make her seem like the femme fatale in a spy movie. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d played just that role before.

“These files aren’t complete,” I say, pointing at the stack of papers. “You want me to help? You’ve got to give me the full picture.”

“Can’t do that,” Vidocq says, turning his back to me. His gestures at a column of numbers projected onto the screen. “This structure of clumped 6s appears a couple times throughout. Have you noticed this, Irene?”

The woman turns her attention to the screen too, and nods.

“I’ve picked up on it. It’s not something that we can do much with,” she says. “This cipher is too hard to crack.”

“There’s no mention of a cipher in these reports,” I interject.

“He’s a smart cookie,” Vidocq says sarcastically to the others. This gets him a few small chuckles. “No, Mr. Ashworth, of course it’s not in these reports. You’re reading a sanitized version of things, because we don’t know if you can be trusted yet.”

“You keep a sanitized version of records just for an eventuality like this?” I ask, bewildered. “How does that make any sense?”

Vidocq sneers at me.

“If you reluctantly give people a paper trail, they won’t suspect that they’ve been handed a fake, and that there’s a real one out there,” he says.

“But I figured it out,” I say.

“So you did,” Vidocq concedes, “but guess what? If the authorities ever come knocking, this is what they’re going to get, and they’re going to buy it.”

I have to admit that it’s a fair point.

“Still,” I say. “That doesn’t change the fact that I won’t be able to help if you’re hiding essential details of the case from me. I have a decent head for cryptography. You look like you’re stuck on this cipher. Humour me, give me a lead.”

“We’ve been working on this for over a month,” Vidocq scoffs. “You’re not going to be able to help.”

Irene lets out an impetuous laugh.

“I’d like to watch him fail,” she says. “Serves him right for thinking that he can waltz in here and just shake things up.”

I grind my teeth, staying silent. Father must have known that Vidocq and his gang would respond this way to my inclusion. Who knows, maybe even this exchange was scripted.

“Good point,” Vidocq nods. “Let’s show him the good stuff.”

“The cipher was sent directly over text,” another of the guys says.

He sighs wearily and types something onto the desktop computer, pulling up a fresh set of numbers onto the screen. The texts he displays were sent directly from Erin to Ricardo, and I wonder what exactly is going on here. Erin wouldn’t text Ricardo with anything sensitive off their custom messaging app. But maybe she thought this text, with her encryption, would make it safe enough. It certainly seems to have stumped these guys.

The image of the encrypted message is heavily annotated with notes on the side, guesses about what’s going on with the numbers thick in the margins. I know inside that I’d never be able to make more progress than Vidocq’s gang, but if my suspicion is correct, that’s not going to matter.

Vidocq looks at the screen, too, continuing to pace around the room.

“Alright. Here’s how it’s going to go. Claude only works on the code in this room, on our workstations, when there are at least two other people who can see what he’s doing at all times. Don’t let him make any copies or printouts. You report any and all progress that you’ve made to us.”

“Seems reasonable to me,” I shrug. “But it’s getting late tonight, and I just read over a hundred pages of your sanitized bullshit. I’ll come back tomorrow and give this stuff a stab.”

With that, I walk out of the room, my phone itching in my pocket. I ignore the annoyed looks that Vidocq and Irene stare into my back. Erin and I are about to have a very interesting conversation.