“We got a good start with the Bombe,” said Ruthie. “So it shouldn’t take me too long to finish the decrypt.” She settled in a chair in front of the Enigma machine and Patton handed her the notebook with the transcription of the message and the work Ruthie had done at Bletchley. For a moment, Ruthie did nothing, just sat and stared.

“Is something wrong?” said Nemo.

“No,” said Ruthie. “It’s just—I get chills every time I do this. Actually decrypt a real message on a real Enigma machine. These things are worth hundreds of thousands of pounds and it’s hard to . . .”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Alex, leaning over her shoulder and pressing a few keys, the others watching as letters lit up and rotors moved in their slots. “You won’t hurt it. Besides, what’s the point in having things like this if you don’t get to use them?”

“If you’re sure,” said Ruthie.

“Of course,” said Alex. “We’ll leave you alone so you can concentrate. Maybe you two would like a tour?”

Patton felt more repulsed than fascinated by the artifacts surrounding her and a quick glance at Nemo told her he had no interest in listening to Alex boast about his collection. Besides, if Alex Lansdowne was an expert on Nazi Germany, maybe he could answer a few questions.

“Is there someplace we could just talk?” she asked.

“We’ll go to my study,” said Alex. “Ruthie, it’s right off the kitchen. If you need anything else let me know.”

Alex clearly never intended for his study to accommodate visitors, but as he explained, few people ever came to visit, and his collection had crowded out such things as sitting rooms and dining tables, where they might more comfortably have conversed. So Alex sat behind his desk (it belonged to one of Himmler’s assistants, he bragged) and Patton and Nemo settled for two folding chairs set up in the tiny bit of floor space not given over to piles of books and papers, unopened packages, rusted weapons and helmets, and other unidentifiable detritus. Here, Patton thought, one could not tell trash from treasure.

“What’s the topic for tonight?” said Alex. “Or should I say, this morning.” It was after five and the thick curtains in the window did not keep out the light.

“Projekt Alchemie,” said Patton before Nemo could speak.

“Projekt Alchemie,” repeated Alex with a smile. “That’s a term I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“But you have heard it?” said Nemo.

“Oh, yes,” said Alex, reaching up and removing a notebook from his Possibilities shelf. “You know Himmler was interested in all sorts of occultism—witchcraft, the Holy Grail, ancient legends and mythology, and, of course, alchemy.”

“But he didn’t really turn lead into gold,” said Nemo.