Free The Voynich Cypher by Russell Blake Page B

the only one he trusted was the girl. My investigators confirmed that he didn’t have any safety deposit boxes, but the daughter does, so it’s not difficult to see where she fits in this. I’m sure that when we find the girl, we find the Scroll.”
    “Do we know where she is yet?” Amieri asked fervently. “Because once I get my hands on her–”
    “We’re working on it. My network is handling this even as we speak,” Frank said. “I will share more once we meet in Tehran.”
     
    That had been three days ago. He wished he could turn back the clock and confront Twain himself about the change in plans on the Scroll, but nobody got to do things over. Frank had been occupied by other matters – critical matters that demanded his attention and which would come to the fore once the Scroll was located and the translations from it were obtained. It was a shame things had rapidly gone from controllable to chaotic, but in the end he’d prevail. He always did.
    Frank felt a renewed sense of confidence as the buildings of Tehran loomed below. His team was pulling out all the stops in their search. Twain’s daughter would be located. Of this, Frank was sure.
    He just hoped that they would find her before the Order of the Holy Relic got to her first.
     

CHAPTER 9
     
     
    Steven opened the door to his offices for Natalie, fumbling with the baguettes and coffee while Natalie walked into the building, clutching a leather bag.
    Gwen Peabody rose from her desk and briskly approached Steven, taking the bread from him and glancing at the new female arrival.
    “Hullo,” Gwen chirped at her.
    Natalie only offered a nod. Steven glanced around the red brick interior of the old building, which had been gutted and converted into a single large workspace. The section nearest the entrance housed a reception area and a group of computer stations, arranged in a semi-circle on the polished concrete floor and occupied by the other residents of the office. All three now turned to regard Steven.
    “Hello, gang,” Steven said. He turned to Natalie. “Ms. Twain, I’d like you to meet Gwen Peabody; she’s my office manager and is responsible for anything that goes right in my life on a day-to-day basis.”
    “Nice to meet you, Gwen,” Natalie said. “Natalie Twain.”
    Gwen made the connection instantly. “Ah, immediate relative, I would guess, of Professor Winston Twain. His…daughter?” She appraised Natalie more closely. “Or granddaughter?”
    “The very same. His daughter,” Natalie answered.
    “He called our office the other day. How is your father?”
    “At peace,” Natalie said cryptically.
    “Professor Twain passed away a few days ago, Gwen,” Steven said softly, and then looked to his three other employees.
    “Oh,” Gwen said, deflated, and at a momentary loss of words. “I’m…so sorry.”
    “Thank you,” Natalie replied.
    Steven turned to his team, who were watching him expectantly.
    “Ben Walker, Will Donahue and Sophie Lipton,” he introduced.
    Sophie, a stout black woman of twenty-six, whose fondness for Italian pastry was clearly evident, smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Pleased to meet you, Natalie.”
    “Likewise,” Natalie replied good-naturedly.
    Ben smiled and said, “We’re the tragically underpaid and perennially overworked elves who make the software work. I’m Ben, and that’s Will.” He nodded his head in the direction of Will, who was busily typing on his keypad even as he glanced at Natalie in acknowledgement. Ben was tall and lanky, even seated, and had a scar running from his forehead down to his lower lip. Will was thin and pale, with a three day growth of sparse beard, and iPod headphones blaring metal music in his ears.
    “Nice to meet everyone,” Natalie said.
    “Natalie, let’s step into my office; this way, please…” Steven moved ahead of her to a room at the far end of the cavernous work area.
    Natalie strode behind him, still holding her soft leather satchel.
    Gwen