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ssassination of John Kennedy。 Could this dean of Washington power brokers have been in Dominic Goldoni's hip pocket？ On the face of it； it seemed incredible； but if the streets of New York had taught Croaker anything； it was never to discount the incredible … or even the impossible。
〃Anything else？〃
The female voice snapped his train of thought。
〃As a matter of fact； there is。 I need the long…distance telephone records for the last three months for Moniker's。〃 He gave her the address。 〃Also； I have a partial D。C。 license number of a Mack 1995 Nissan 300ZX ragtop。 See what you can do。〃
〃It's a help that it's a ragtop； not too many of those around。 Still； it'll take a while。〃
〃Tomorrow morning do you？〃
〃Not before six。 All the info will be at the concierge desk at the Holiday Inn Central on Rhode Island Avenue and Fifteenth Street under the name Samuel Johnson。〃
〃You got it。 Thanks。〃
He sat for a moment； feeling momentarily defeated。 He stared at the Sargent； letting the exotic aura of the painting flow over him； even though this was just a poster。 It made him think of the blonde。 In his imagination he conjured her up； watching her from the hallway as she came out of the office。 He examined the clever glint in the cornflower blue eyes and wondered again what she was doing here。 Could she really be managing this strip joint？ Not likely。 What was far more plausible was that she was here because no one would expect her to be in a sleazy place like this。 It was his experience that people left their secrets in places where they felt them most unlikely to be discovered。
He continued to stare at the woman in her billowing white robes。 What were the secrets with which Sargent had infused her？ What was she doing and why was she doing it？
Abruptly； he got up； went over to the poster。 He took it off the wall。 The blank wall leered at him mockingly。 Then he put the poster down； looked more closely。 The wall was cracked； so it was difficult to pick up； but there was no doubt he was looking at cracks that formed a right angle。 He followed them down； found two more right angles。 He traced the lines all around with his forefinger until he had formed a rectangle。
Bingo！
Using the blade of a penknife； he dug into one crack； pulled up a corner。 It peeled back； revealing a safe。 Croaker produced a small key ring on which hung perhaps a dozen hooked implements。 Eyeing the brand of safe； he selected one； inserted it in the lock。 He put his ear to the metal housing； listened to the tumblers falling as he manipulated the probe。
The door popped open and he took a look inside。 At that moment； he heard a sharp noise as someone in the corridor tried the doorknob。 There was the muffled sound of a questioning voice and the door rattled。
Croaker went through the contents of the safe as quickly as he could。 There was over 100；000 in neatly stacked and wrapped bills； the lease for the building； which was owned by Morgana； Inc。； the usual insurance documents； a second accounting ledger； and a small； calfskin notebook。
The noise at the door had ceased； but he was not fooled。 Whoever had wanted to get in would be back； and he knew he needed to be out of there before then。
He opened the ledger first； went through it。 This one told the true story of the Moniker operation。 Morgana； Inc。 was funneling tens of thousands of dollars per month through the club。 The monies that were supposedly ing from the； nationwide franchise organization were actually originating overseas； specifically France and England。 And unlike the false ledger that showed the monies to be in the tens of thousands per month； this one put the amount far higher。 Moniker's laundered almost a million dollars a month for Morgana； Inc。 No wonder there was no typical sleazebucket manager running this place。
Croaker slid the ledger back into the safe； opened the calfskin notebook。 It was filled with neatly printed letters' interspersed with Arabic numerals。 He recognized this as some kind of code。
He pocketed the notebook； closed and locked the safe； pressed the plasterlike rectangle back in place； then replaced the poster。 He crossed to the door； put his ear to it。 Then； carefully； he unlocked the door and； opening it slowly； peered out through the sliver between the door and the frame。 He saw no one。
He slipped quickly out of the office； exiting the club as Margarite and the blonde had done。 He walked through the refuse…strewn alley and around the corner toward the front of the club。 The rain beat harder； soaking him。 He climbed into the cab and told the driver to take him to the Hay…Adams； Margarite's hotel。 He dismissed the cabby outside the Hay…Adams； then took a room on the floor below Margarite's。 The night manager； responding to his badge； was only too happy to give him the location of her room。 He also agreed to phone Croaker's room when Margarite returned。
Up in the room； Croaker ordered food； took off his jacket； and rubbed his wet head with a towel。 Then he sat down at the desk in the room and opened the notebook。 He took out a pad and pencil and went to work。
He had spent six months in the army in codes and ciphers and knew more than the rudiments of cryptography。 He felt certain this was no spy network he was dealing with； so the chances were good that this code would not be an arcane one。 Something easy to remember； such as a substitution code where one letter filled in for another； would be a logical place to start； he determined。
The first thing he noticed was that the number 9 kept repeating on several pages。 In each instance； the 9 was preceded by five letters。 He began the series substitutions； using the three most mon ones； as he had been taught。
He had gone through them all without success when the food arrived。 He stretched； stood looking out the window at the rain…swept Washington night while he munched his chicken sandwich and swigged on a bottle of beer。 It was almost midnight。 Somewhere out there Margarite was in conference with the woman with the pale blond hair。 For all he knew； they were both with Senator Dedalus； discussing the fate of the world； but he doubted it。 Margarite had arrived at Moniker's in Dedalus's limo … in fact； she had had use of it from the moment she stepped off the plane at National。 If the two women were going to Dedalus's； why not use his limo？ Instead； they had lit out from a dark alley in the blonde's Nissan。
It was really pissing down out there； and the only good thing about the evening； as far as Croaker could see； was that he wasn't out in it。 He finished off the sandwich； took the remaining beer back to the desk； sipping it while he stood staring from the open notebook to his attempts at crypto…busting。 He had thought he'd cracked it with the third substitution system。 What was he missing？ He looked at the code again； not trying to read each group of characters； but looking at the whole to see if a pattern would emerge。 Switch the a and e？ Substitute the five middle letters of the alphabet for vowels？ Work backward from the end of the alphabet？ Substitute a letter for another？
Wait a minute！ He sat down in the chair； took up his pen。 The numbers！ Each grouping had either one or