Lair of Dreams - Page 123/221

“Anything with the words Project Buffalo on it,” Sam said, marching to the file cabinet. It was locked. “Got a hairpin?”

Evie rummaged in her purse and came up with one, and Sam slipped it into the lock and yanked open the drawer. It was empty. They were all empty.

“Dammit!” Sam punched the side of the cabinet. “Ow,” he said, shaking out his hand.

“What now? There’s nothing here,” Evie said. She and Sam stood at loose ends in the middle of the office.

“I really thought we’d found it,” Sam said quietly, and Evie could tell how disappointed he was. It meant so much to him, and this was the best clue they’d had so far. She looked around for something, anything, that might prove useful.

“Sam…?” Evie said, an idea taking shape.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you say you found that letter from Rotke in a book?” Evie nodded at the bookcase.

A flicker of hope quirked Sam’s lips. “Baby Vamp, you’re a genius.”

“Oh, Sam, you’re just saying that because it’s true.”

They dove for the large leather-bound books. Evie swept away a layer of dust. “Ugh. That’s the end of these gloves. ‘The Declaration of Independence.’ Say, I’ve heard of that,” she said. When she opened the book, she found that it had been hollowed out, the pages cut into a ragged box that held two slim glass bottles. Whatever liquid the bottles had contained had long since evaporated, but a crusted blue film remained inside.

“Booze? Perfume?” Evie opened and sniffed one, shaking her head. “Definitely not either.”

“Let’s see what’s inside The Federalist Papers,” Sam said, coughing as the dust spiraled up into his face.

“Looks like an ordinary book,” Evie said. “Not hollow. Any hidden messages?”

On a hunch, Sam turned the book upside down and shook it. Several pieces of paper fluttered to the floor. Sam picked one up. It was a rectangular card with a series of patterned holes punched into it. The other cards were the same except for the typed headings: Subject #12. Subject #48. Subject #77. Subject #12. Subject #63. Subject #144.

“Sam, what are these?” Evie said, turning one of the cards over. “Why are there all these little holes?”

“It’s code.”

“Honestly, Sam, how can this be code? They’re just holes.”

“The holes are the code. Listen, one Christmas, I worked at Macy’s—”

“As an elf?”

“Yeah. I put you down for two lumps of coal,” Sam shot back. “As a punch card operator. We kept information on sales in code. That’s what these cards are—coded files. All these little holes? Information.”

“So how do we get to see that information?”

“They hafta be read by a special machine.”

“You see one of those special machines around here?”

Sam peered into the gloom. “No.”

Evie flipped through the cards again, reading aloud. “Subject number twelve. Subject number forty-eight. Subject number seventy-seven… Wait a minute.” She ran back to the wall, looking from the cards to the map. “These subject numbers correspond to different towns! Why, look—they’re all over the country. Subject number seventy-seven is in…” She searched the map. “Here! South Dakota. And Subject number one forty-four is…” Evie traced a finger to another thumbtack. “Bountiful, Nebraska.”

“Subject number twenty-seven, New Orleans. Subject number twelve, Baltimore…” Sam said.

“How many of these are there?” Evie said, stepping back a bit to take in the whole of the map.

“Don’t know. The highest number we’ve got is one hundred forty-four.”

Evie frowned at the wall. There was a thumbtack stuck into Zenith, Ohio, beside a number. Subject zero.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, coming closer.

“Sam!” she whispered urgently.

“Here. Grab some of these,” Sam whispered back, stuffing some of the punch cards into his vest. “Put ’em in your purse.”

“That’s the first place someone would look.” Evie lifted her skirt and shoved the punch cards into her stocking, under the garter, beside her silver flask. She smoothed her skirt back down. “Were you staring at my legs, Sam Lloyd?”

“Your flask, actually. I’m a sucker for silver,” Sam said, moving to the door.

Evie came up behind him. “What if we get in trouble?” she whispered. “This isn’t like breaking into a pawnshop. We’re trespassing in a government office!”