“Sorry, what?”
“The letter! Are you going to read it or not?” said Tess.
The twins squeezed next to him on the bench and peered over his shoulders as he read aloud:
Dear T:
I’m writing this to you now only to have to burn it later, as I must burn everything. I know we have to keep our secrets but it does grow tiresome.
Wasn’t it lovely of Miss King and Mr. Munsterberg to join us at our little soiree? And when I say “lovely” of course I mean excruciating. Who keeps inviting these people? Perhaps I do. But I wish you wouldn’t argue so much about politics once you’ve realized there’s simply no point. I agree that the natives must keep their land east of the Mississippi as per our treaties with those nations, I agree that Jackson is a nightmare, but by the time we finished the soup course it was clear that we were dining with monsters. It would have been more productive to simply pelt them with roasted potatoes till they ran away. They were worse than that horrible woman who rummaged through your desk at our last dinner party. I can’t remember her name, but I remember her face when she looked in her reticule and saw that the letter she’d stolen from you had been replaced with some spiders I’d been working on. She did pinwheel about rather spectacularly, no? You keep telling me that I’ve lost my sense of humor, but I believe that incident proves I haven’t. Or perhaps I have regressed.
In any case, I hope that none of these people will go to the Tredwells’. I would like to say that the occasion would be enlightening for all who need it, a fresh start, a new perspective, but some people do not wish to be enlightened. It pains me to say it pains me.
Are we doing the right thing? Are we doing enough? Are we the right people to be doing any of it? Will we ever know? Maybe I have lost my sense of humor after all, but when I tell you that I don’t feel like myself anymore, I’m the only one who laughs. What have you lost?
Never mind. I’m speaking in riddles again. I know how much you hate that.
Let’s hope that no one fishes this nonsense from the fire.
—T.
When he finished reading, Tess’s eyes got so big that whole planets could have fallen into them. “That’s Theresa Morningstarr’s writing, but I’ve never seen this letter before. I’ve never heard of this letter before. And my grandpa has read everything the Morningstarrs have ever written. There are entire archives of their correspondence. Almost all of it is just boring business stuff.”
Jaime scanned the letter again. It wasn’t boring at all. It was actually sort of funny and sad at the same time.
“We can’t be sure it’s a Morningstarr letter,” said Theo. “It doesn’t sound like a Morningstarr letter.”
“It’s written to ‘T’ from ‘T,’” Tess said. “She talks about keeping secrets, about the spiders she’s been working on. And what it says about burning letters explains why so few of their personal papers exist.”
Jaime said, “But who could have fished it out of the fire? And who would have sent it to your grandfather all these years later?”
“Who would have sent it today of all days!” said Tess.
“It could have been sent a week ago,” Theo said. “It could have been sitting in that mailbox for a month.”
“Still,” Tess said. “It’s a clue. I know it is.” She practically hummed with excitement. It was like sitting next to a beehive. Nine rubbed Tess’s knees with her face as if to calm her.
“Okay, let’s think about this for a minute,” Theo said, hand stuck in his hair. “It seems important, but what if it’s some bizarre coincidence?”
“This can’t be a coincidence,” Jaime said.
“Nope,” Tess said. “Way too adorable.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Theo. “How can a coincidence be adorable?”
“When it’s too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence,” said Jaime.
“Maybe it’s a hoax,” Theo said. “The cipherist world is full of hoaxes. Someone could have written this letter, dipped it in coffee and burned it a little to make it look old, and forged Theresa’s handwriting just to mess with Grandpa. Happens all the time.” Theo got up and paced the gallery, his footsteps echoing. “Everything in that letter could be made up.”
“Not everything,” said Jaime. “Jackson was pushing legislation to force the Cherokees and other nations to leave their homes and move to some lands in the middle of the country or some random place. Didn’t pass, though. I made a diorama about it in fourth grade. Did you guys ever try to make a diorama about legislation? It’s not that easy.”
“I love making dioramas,” Tess said.
“Everything else in this letter could be made up,” Theo said.
“But isn’t this exactly what the Morningstarrs would do?” Tess said. “Bury a clue in a letter sent to a person who’s never even identified, a letter that talks about a stolen letter just like the Poe story? And this line, here, that’s underlined: would be enlightening for all who need it. It’s like they’re messing with anyone trying to solve the cipher.”
“Okay, but someone had to send this to Grandpa Ben. If you had a real Morningstarr clue, why would you send it to anyone? Why wouldn’t you check it out yourself?” Theo said.
“Maybe whoever sent it tried to figure it out but couldn’t,” said Tess. “Or maybe whoever sent it wanted Grandpa to solve it.”
“Tess—”
Tess shook her head so aggressively her braid whacked Jaime in the arm. “It has to be a clue.”
“Who are Miss King and Mr. Munsterberg?” said Jaime.
“If this is a Morningstarr clue, the names aren’t important. Most of the other clues were codes or ciphers,” said Theo.
“So all we have to do is figure out what kind of puzzle it is,” Tess added.
Jaime had solved puzzles before. The rules always seemed random until one of them worked—then they made perfect sense. “Maybe we’re supposed to apply the numbers from the very first clue that appeared in the newspaper in 1855 to this letter?”
Theo frowned, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. Those numbers were 42, 1, 2; 42, 20, 7; 42, 1, 10, like that. There aren’t even forty-two lines in this whole letter.”
Tess said, “The solution to the very first clue was the date the Liberty Statue’s book. 741776. Try numbering the lines in the body of the letter.”
Jaime took out his sketchbook and started scribbling. “So, if we don’t count the greeting as a line, we get
‘Mississippi as per our treaties with those nations, I agree that Jackson is a’
‘And when I say “lovely” of course I mean excruciating. Who keeps inviting these people?’
‘I’m writing this to you now only to have to burn it later, as I must burn everything. I’
‘Mississippi as per our treaties with those nations, I agree that Jackson is a’
‘Mississippi as per our treaties with those nations, I agree that Jackson is a’
‘there’s simply no point. I agree that the natives must keep their land east of the’”