3. Codes and Shadows
Chapter three
Codes and Shadows
E melia
The elevator doors slid open to my floor. A few steps and I was at my door. I entered the 12-digit passcode to disengage the alarm system and entered my apartment.
Inside, motion sensors tracked my movement as I carefully placed the recovered painting on the mahogany credenza.
Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the glittering Manhattan skyline. It was such a beautiful, clear night from all the way up here, but tonight, all I could think of was making sure the technology I’d put in place would protect me.
I waved an RFID keycard over the fingerprint scanner to access my computer station, immediately launching an image capture sequence from high-res cameras hidden around the apartment.
Every possible angle of the supposedly priceless canvas was instantly documented and cross-referenced against the Bartholdy archives.
"What makes you so special?" I murmured, magnifying details of the work. Nothing immediately set off alarms that it was a forgery, neither was there any factor that made it any more special than the next painting. Even the one drawn by a preschooler might have as much value as this.
Yet clearly, there was something—something beyond monetary value which had drawn that thief's interest.
I found myself picturing his confident silhouette dashing across rooftops with athletic grace.
An unfamiliar flutter stirred, creating an image of that self-assured grin aimed at me. I shut the memories down quick—no time for distraction.
Logging on via VPN, I accessed proprietary law enforcement databases using backdoor methods and bypassing their laughable firewall protections.
I entered search parameters for art thieves crossing state lines, then internationally. Hundreds of hits but none with his physical stats and MO. An Interpol query turned up zero matches also.
“Who are you, mysterious man who slipped past my cutting-edge surveillance? It took me years to perfect this system. How did you get through it so easily?”
The idea that an unknown small time thief had bypassed my encrypted perimeter unsettled me. I needed to be prepared for anything next time such an incident occurred.
I spent hours photographing the painting relentlessly, searching for any hidden clues or messages.
Then I placed it in my RFI/EMI-proof safe room down the hall and initiated another overnight scan sequence to monitor for tracking devices or signatures while I slept.
That thief wouldn't catch me off guard again. The next time he dared show his face, my security countermeasures would be on alert. And his ass would be in jail faster than he could say, ‘do not pass go....’
I loaded Taser and tracer dart ammunition into custom wrist launchers, stowing them and extra zip-ties in my bedside drawer.
As the gentle morning shadows stretched across the bedroom, I replayed our rooftop interlude again, recalling the graceful way he moved, an intoxicating ballet... No! I shook it off, angry at myself.
This criminal likely had done damage across countless sites I helped secure; therefore he represented everything I stood against.
I vowed whatever the painting's secrets, one way or another, this mystery man's identity and purpose would be revealed.
And when he attempted to reclaim his prize, he'd find I was far fiercer than I seemed under the stars that night.
My dreams churned with images of spinning motion sensors and artful disguises. Then the images shifted to mischievous dimpled grins from rugged looks with intense blue eyes and shaggy hair hanging just over broad shoulders and a barrel chest tapering to a slim waist.
But by the time morning sunlight glinted off New York skyscrapers ushering in a new day, my resolve had hardened once more.
The hunt would begin for fresh clues to uncover who this thief really was and what he was truly after with that painting.
As I showered and got set for work, I was determined that the cryptographic code of this criminal enigma would be cracked!
I entered Bartholdy’s Auction House an hour later to find police crawling all over the place.
Detective Riley, a 50-something veteran with a gruff demeanor, waved me into his makeshift office in the lobby.
"Ms. Price, our head cryptographer—you must have insights into how this thief infiltrated impenetrable security systems you yourself built," he began, flipping open a notebook.
Without meaning to, I averted my eyes. "I wish I did, but by the time I ran after the thief, he was gone. Whoever it was knew how to bypass our protocols without triggering any alarms."
Riley's eyes narrowed. "You expect me to believe a pro like you missed some amateur waltzing past encrypted firewalls? I'll ask again—did you notice anything suspicious last night?"
I bristled at his accusatory tone but bit my tongue. No way would I admit that my security systems had been outmaneuvered by that mysterious thief. My eyes met and held his without wavering.
Riley exhaled impatiently when I remained silent. "Look, Ms. Price, Bartholdy's big clientele pay for absolute discretion. If there's any hint their items aren't 100% secured here, your auction house’ll have a PR crisis."
His words made me bristle inside. Indignant, I stood up. “You don’t have to tell me that—I know exactly what’s at stake but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know anything.”
The thought that the very item that had been stolen was locked in my safe at home made me realize I could be arrested as a co-conspirator, at the very least.
My face hardened. “If you’ll excuse me, officer. As you can see, I have a lot of work if I’m going to find out how my systems were infiltrated.”
That part, at least was true.
After the detectives departed, Mr. Bartholdy himself cornered me outside my office. "Dammit Emelia, heads will roll if this happens again! I don't care what it takes—fix the damn security grid before that Picasso turns up on the black market and every billionaire we count on to keep our business running gets cold feet. Do I make myself clear?”
"Crystal clear, sir," I replied through gritted teeth, my voice icy. I waited for my boss to walk away before I strode into my office, slamming the door furiously with one foot.
That damn artful thief had made a fool of me, but I wouldn’t take it lying down! I kicked over a waste bin violently, expletives bursting from my mouth that would make a sailor blush.
"Deceitful, arrogant, insufferable bastard!" I seethed, pacing around my office.
How dare he infiltrate my carefully constructed security and escape unscathed, taunting me and my expertise?
Ohhhh , I shook both fists at the air. I regret letting you go last night. I should’ve hauled your ass to jail myself!
I swept keyboards and files off my desk in a clash of clattering technology. It was the way he acted like it had all been child's play! My fists clenched at the thought of his cocky, self-assured grin.
When I got my hands on that annoying cretin, I'd wipe that smirk right off his pretty boy face!
My mind spun with plans to upgrade security tenfold. I'd encrypt firewalls even I couldn't hack and install infrared motion grids that turned intruders to ash. I'd invent tracking nanobots that marked thieves' bloodstreams permanently!
That smug bastard had no idea the fury and cunning he'd unleashed! I would not sleep until his face graced every wanted list on earth!
Scowling with rage, I straightened my shoulders and smoothed my hair. Time to get to work.
Back at my apartment, I had a shower and a coffee, then stayed up the entire night reinforcing firewall patches and poring through Interpol case files, determined to identify the perpetrator and restore my now-tarnished reputation.
When I finally nodded off at dawn, my dreams filled with images of a dark silhouette dancing gracefully across moonlit rooftops—part adversary, part mystifying kindred spirit.
The image moved close to my face, and laughed, mocking me. Annoyed, I tried to swat it off, but the more I did, the more it teased me, remaining just out of reach each time.
I sat up, realizing I was drenched in sweat. I decided to get my mind of the insufferable bastard by working on my dad’s case.
I rubbed my bleary eyes as the auction house encryption code blurred on the monitor.
I'd been deciphering security protocols from my dad’s former workplace as far as fifteen years back.
An anomaly caught my attention: (01001010 01011000 01001011 01010011).
I bolted upright. Those looked like initials buried in the headers: JXK11. "Dad?" I whispered. What were my deceased father's initials doing hidden in Bartholdy's algorithms?
I pulled up his background files with shaking fingers. Jacob Xavier King—former FBI cryptographer, before his suicide. Much of his work was still classified.
I rapidly created an encrypted chat window, routing through The Onion Router to anonymize my trail. My old friend Aiden was now an archivist for the FBI. If anyone could tell me anything, it would be him.
Aiden, it’s Emelia. I need your help. Did my father pioneer experimental techniques in steganography? Hiding codes within codes?
I waited only two seconds before the reply popped up.
Emelia! Of course, your father was brilliant at linguistic cryptography... We still can't decipher all of his hidden programs. Why do you ask?
My fingers flew across the keys. I found his initials embedded in layers at my company's system. It matches his early stealth prototypes you showed me. Were there messages he hid that could relate to his murder?
Hmm, knowing your dad, it's possible, came the swift reply. He was paranoid those last few months, maybe he left behind some contingency plan? If you locate anything, let me know. I need to scrub this chat from the servers - stay safe!
Thanks, I typed, my mind already working out several possibilities. I spent the early morning hours running Dad's old maps and notes against the government's network architecture, searching for overlaps, desperate for any clue. But each attempt hit a dead end, the data devolving into nonsense.
I cursed and threw my tablet across the room in frustration. All these years I knew the answers were lurking somewhere in the shadows.
I would keep digging until I brought his encrypted secrets to light and proved what I’d always believed: that my dad had been murdered. I would, no matter what it cost me.
A week later, I was finally beginning to breathe again and stopped jumping at every sound. I was finally convincing myself that the art thief did indeed lack the sophistication to penetrate my apartment.
It was Friday night and in a rare show of self-indulgence, I’d ordered Chinese and enjoyed it with a couple of glasses of white wine and smooth jazz, then had a long soak in the bath before I went to bed early.
I jolted awake to the shrill beeping of the perimeter alarm. My eyes darted to check the time: 3:17am.
He was here. I clicked the bedside monitor, my heart pounding as cameras showed a black-clad figure casually examining the amateur painting in my living room.
It was an unnatural splash of colors, a favorite of mine, with children playing joyfully in a shallow river.
Grabbing my iPad, I entered my 12-digit security code, fingerprint and retinal scans to deactivate countermeasures and grant me access.
Steeling myself, I stepped through the opening doors, ready to confront him again.
"Well, well, we have to stop meeting like this, people might talk." He grinned infuriatingly. "Although I must say, you look rather ravishing in silk pajamas with your hair all mussed from sleep."
I crossed my arms, glaring. "Bold move coming back after I warned you last time. The police will be swarming this building in 90 seconds.” I activated the encrypted distress signal to NYPD with a tap on my wristwatch.
He laughed. “About that... I took the liberty of recalibrating your highly impressive security system to buy us some privacy. The authorities won't hear a peep, I'm afraid. Go on, try it-"
I tapped again in rapid succession but instead of seeing the expected confirmation, gentle classical music began playing over hidden speakers.
Realization dawned that he had completely hacked my perimeter and countermeasures. But how?! I had designed them myself and knew they were watertight.
Seeing my stunned reaction, he gave an exaggerated bow. “While I admit you came closer than anyone to thwarting me, did you really think you could hold the Prince of Thieves captive forever?”
Anger boiled up in me. "You must have had help... There's no way you could have cracked 128-bit encryption and bypassed motion sensors on your own!"
"Darling Emelia, we all have our hidden talents. How do you think I originally slipped past your security web undetected in the first place? You can't always be the best, but I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.”
With blinding speed, I charged forward, aiming a roundhouse kick at his head, but he expertly sidestepped, deflecting the blow at the last second to throw me off balance.
“Ah ah ah, not this time. I made sure to come properly prepared—and your martial arts won’t be taking me by surprise this time.” He easily evaded another series of strikes, infuriating me further.
“You won’t escape this time!” I swung again fiercely but he caught my fist inches from his face. We froze there, tense and locked in position.
"Such fire, my love, but I’m afraid I do have to leave now, but I hope our paths cross again soon.” With surprising gentleness, he guided me into a graceful spin maneuver that broke our contact.
Before I could regain equilibrium, he was halfway out the window onto the fire escape.
"Until next time.” He gave a mocking salute, then dropped from view.
I rushed onto the metal platform just in time to see his silhouette propel down the alley wall and disappear into the night.
Adrenaline propelling me, I grabbed a large jacket and slipped on moccasins, snatched the tracer dart and Taser—I’d certainly be needing them—then took the emergency elevator, speeding down 150 flights.
Bursting out of the lobby, I ran into the street just in time to catch a glimpse of him rounding a corner. I sprinted after him, pajamas flapping in the icy night air.
"Hey! Stop!" I shouted breathlessly. "You won't get away this time!"
He glanced back with a roguish grin but kept weaving through late night crowds lining the glittering Manhattan streets. I pursued him relentlessly, shoving startled pedestrians aside.
At an intersection, he suddenly peeled left, vaulting a taxi hood in a fluid parkour move. I raced after him, ignoring car honks as I scrambled in front of moving vehicles, apologizing absently.
Block after block we dashed through pools of neon and shifting shadows. He led us into less populated side alleys. By now, my lungs were burning to keep pace, but damn if I was going to let him think he could outrun me.
"Just give it up!" he called back teasingly. "Don't take it personally, my dear. Some heists are simply meant to be."
I released a tracer dart but he snatched it from the air without missing a beat, tossing it aside. Who was this guy?
Finally I cornered him where the alley dead-ended. "Whatever you're really after, your crime spree ends tonight!" I declared.
He turned slowly, hands raised. "All this for wounded pride? The stakes here are higher than you know."
I stepped closer warily and jabbed one finger at him. "The stakes are justice and protecting artifacts from criminals like you!"
Sighing, he lowered his hands. "Evelyn, stop chasing ghosts. If you want the truth about your father, go to Pier 23 at noon tomorrow and ask for Axel. Say you're looking for Project Nightfall. But leave the Eternal Lovers be, please... for your own good."
I froze in shock. How did this stranger know my birth name and my father's case?
But before I could recover enough to respond, he activated a flash bomb, disappearing again into the night and leaving only confusion behind.
I wandered back, dazed as the orange and yellow hues of dawn rose over skyscrapers.
Who was this master thief taunting me with knowledge of my past? And what connection did the Eternal Lovers have to any of it?
His parting words echoed... Project Nightfall... Axel... Pier 23. Had he discovered a link to my father's murder? I had no choice but to trust this lead, as infuriating as it was to accept help from an enemy.
I would meet this Axel, while staying cautious for anything suspicious. One way or another, this mysterious thief would slip up eventually.
And when he did, I would finally have the long-awaited answers about my family's secrets and justice.