“I wouldn’t,” said Tess.
“I would,” Theo said, “if I wanted everyone to look at it.” Theo pressed the magnifying glass against the tiny square of paper depicted in the painting. “I don’t see anything written on it, though.”
“Maybe something’s written under the paint,” said Tess.
“Or written in invisible ink,” Jaime said.
“Maybe,” said Theo.
“I was kidding,” Jaime said.
“I wasn’t,” said Theo. “But some inks are developed by heat, and some by a chemical reaction. If there’s any kind of invisible writing here or anywhere on the painting I don’t know what to use to reveal it.”
“This was before 1855, remember?” said Tess. “So would the ink be made of something natural—lemon or vinegar or spit?”
“The Culper spies used ferrous sulfate and water,” said Theo. “Basically, iron. We need sodium carbonate to activate it.”
“Where are we going to get sodium carbonate?” Tess said.
“This is a restoration department,” said Jaime.
“So?” said Theo.
Jaime went to the wall and looked at the shelves of chemicals and solvents. “So, they clean old paintings with sodium carbonate.”
“You’re kidding,” Theo said.
Jaime grabbed a box of washing soda off the shelf, held it up. “I wasn’t.”
He ran to the sink and grabbed a cup sitting on the counter. He filled the cup with water and brought it back to Theo. They mixed a bit of the washing soda with the water. Jaime found cotton swabs on the supply shelf, dipped one into the solution, and then held it out to Tess. She put her hands up. “You’re the artist, I think you should do it.”
“I hope this doesn’t ruin the painting,” Jaime said. “I mean, I don’t love it or anything, but . . .” He rubbed the swab gently against the “paper” in William Waddell’s pocket.
“I saw this movie once where they found invisible writing on the back of the Declaration of Independence,” said Tess. “They rubbed a lemon all over it to reveal the message.”
“That’s so stupid,” said Theo. “If the invisible ink was juice or vinegar, they would have smeared the whole thing till it was unreadable.”
As Jaime rubbed, he thought he saw the faintest hint of brown underneath the white. “Holy secret writing, Batman. Give me the magnifying glass.”
Theo passed the glass. Jaime centered it over the brown scratches.
The Other Hamilton shows you the shape of things.
They were staring at this new riddle, stunned, when they heard voices outside.
Jaime tossed the glass back to Theo and his phone to Tess. “Zoom in and take a picture.” He pulled out his sketchbook.
“What are you doing?” Theo whispered.
“I don’t trust technology,” Jaime said.
Tess took a photo. “We have to cover up the writing,” she said. “Maybe there’s some paint or a marker around here.”
“Markers? Are you serious?” Jaime poured more of the washing soda into the water and dipped the swab. He scrubbed at the painting until the writing was gone. “I hope I didn’t wreck this.”
“You didn’t. You found the next clue,” said Tess. Jaime felt the flush up to his ’locs. He could get used to being a cipherist.
The voices got louder. Nine mrrowed.
“We gotta go,” Theo said. He waved at a door on the other side of the room. Jaime hoped it wasn’t a janitor’s closet.
They bent low and ran to the door, ducking into the next lab just as the frosted-glass door to the restoration room opened.
Voices crept under the door. “That was incredible!”
“She’s incredible!”
“I would watch her read from the dictionary.”
“I don’t think Sig liked her, though.”
There was laughter, and then: “Hey, did someone already start cleaning the Waddell piece?”
Tess, Theo, and Jaime ran through the lab to the door on the opposite end, almost slamming into a group of women trying to get in.
“Oh, sorry!” said Tess. “We thought this was the bathroom.”
A black woman wearing one of the biggest, most magnificent curly weaves Jaime had ever seen said, “Sure you did.”
Another woman said, “Sig is looking for you kids.”
Jaime’s stomach sank. So they would be arrested after all. Or worse.
The one with the weave smiled. “He’s tearing apart the corporate offices. If you catch the elevator now, you should miss him.”
Jaime said, “Thank you. Seriously.”
The woman gave him a beautiful, motherly smile. “That guy thinks he’s working for the FBI. What’s the FBI going to do with an angry refrigerator?”
Jaime was still trying to picture an angry refrigerator when Tess pulled him into the hallway. They heard shouting coming from either end, coming from everywhere. Tess stabbed the button.
“The elevators don’t come any faster when you do that,” Theo said.
“I know,” Tess said, stabbing the button anyway.
The doors finally opened and they jumped inside. When the elevator reached the ground floor, they held their breath, released it when they saw no one but tourists. Once outside, they inhaled the scent of smoke, saw the burn marks on the pavement. The Rollers were taking care of piles of spent sparklers.
“We should send Lora Yoshida a thank-you note,” Tess said.
Jaime patted his pockets, making sure he still had his phone and his sketchbook. “Weird that she was the one to distract Sig the Refrigerator, though.”
Theo kept looking back over his shoulder, as if he expected Sig to be behind them. “Why is it weird? I mean, it’s weird to want to burn things in the street, but other than that . . .”
Jaime stopped walking. “Don’t you guys know who she is?”
“An artist?” Tess said.
“Yeah, and she’s also Darnell Slant’s ex-wife.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tess
“That’s way too adorable,” Tess said.
“You keep saying that coincidences are adorable when I don’t see how one has anything to do with the other,” Theo said. “Koala-pandas are adorable.”
“You’re adorable,” Tess said.
Jaime said, “I’m thinking it’s a little adorable, too. Cuddly, at least.”
“You’re hurting my head,” said Theo.
“What I think your sister means is that this is starting to feel planned somehow,” Jaime said.
Tess said, “Grandpa Ben always said that when you tried to solve the Cipher, the Cipher was trying to solve you.”
Theo frowned so hard that all his features scrunched to the middle of his face. “How could the Cipher engineer anything? It’s a puzzle. A series of clues. It isn’t alive.”
A Roller crossed in front of them, scraping up bits of burned paper and snack wrappers. “How would you define alive, Theo? Is that Roller alive? Is Grandpa’s Lancelot alive?”
“So you think a Morningstarr Machine talked Lora Yoshida into putting on a performance to distract museum security guards? That’s nuts. You’ve seen the insides of Morningstarr Machines, and you know that’s all they are, machines. Amazing machines, but machines.”
“I’m not saying I have all the answers—”
“You don’t have any answers—”
“I’m just saying that this feels weird,” Tess said.