Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. Vol. 101, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 610 & 611, March 1993

“You see,” Sillabus began, “I do these books on computer programs. I guess you know all about that with your government experience. I hear that the entire science of cryptography is now computerized.”

“I’ve been retired more than fifteen years,” Rand murmured. “Things change.”

“Could you solve a computer-generated cipher?” he asked.

“It’s not my specialty. Sometimes they take years to crack.”

“This has nothing to do with espionage. I suppose it’s more in the nature of a game. You’re probably aware that some books, especially reference works like dictionaries, have actually been transferred to disks so they can be read off a computer screen. More recently, a few classics and even modern novels have appeared on disks. I believe there’s an illustrated version of Alice in Wonderland, and even one of these new techno-thrillers, complete with diagrams.”

“I guess I haven’t kept up with the newest technology in publishing,” Rand admitted. “I’m just getting used to audio books.”

“Well, a British novelist named Garson Wolfe has published — if that’s the word for it — a new fantasy novel available only on computer disk. He’s selling it for one thousand pounds per disk, and to add to the enjoyment, if that’s the word for it, the novel can only be read once. The disk is programmed to encipher itself after a single viewing, or if someone tries to copy it.”

“You want me to decipher it?”

“Yes, or tell me how to do it. A little booklet with the secret would sell quite well to computer addicts and fantasy fans.”

Rand thought about it. “You’re willing to pay for this?”

“The price of a disk. One thousand pounds if you can bring me the key to the cipher this week.”

“With a bit of luck I’ll do better than that.” The waiter arrived with their food. “Do you have one of these disks back at your office?”

“Yes. I purposely haven’t played it yet so you could see how the enciphering takes place.”

It was a short walk back to Sillabus’s office after lunch. The wind had let up a bit but there were still flurries in the air. They’d just reached the entrance to the small office building when the short man seemed to see someone he knew standing by the corner. “Just a moment, will you, Rand? I need a word with that chap.”

Rand watched with interest as he approached a tall man who wore a fur-collared leather coat of a sort not often seen in London. Surely he was from one of the Eastern European countries, or at least his coat was. The two men spoke for only a moment, then Harold Sillabus seemed to wave his arms in disgust and walk away.

“Who was that?” Rand asked.

“Someone who thinks the Cold War is still being fought.” He led the way toward the door.

“One thing I almost forgot. Is there a camera store near here, or any sort of place where I might purchase a Polaroid camera?”

“I have one in the office, specially fitted to take pictures of a television or computer screen, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Rand smiled. “That’s it exactly.”

Once inside the Sillabus office, Rand saw that it was far from being a million-pound business. A pretty, dark-haired woman was slitting envelopes with a slim letter opener, and seemed to be the only employee. She turned as they entered and Sillabus introduced her. “Janice Casey, this is Mr. Rand. He’s going to help us with the Garson Wolfe disk. Miss Casey is my business associate.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rand.” She shook his hand firmly. To Sillabus she reported, “That man Pryzic was here again looking for you.”

“I ran into him outside. The fellow is a fool or an idiot.”

Rand glanced at the shelves as they spoke, taking in the slender paperback volumes in something called the Sillabus Softwear Series. He took down a volume titled Windows, glanced through it, and put it back, aware of how little he understood about the latest developments in computer software. It was a constantly changing field, and with no day-to-day involvement he’d fallen behind. Still, he believed he knew enough to help Harold Sillabus with his problem.

“This is the disk,” the little man said, returning to his side. “I’ll insert it in the computer. Will this camera serve your purpose?”

“It should.”

Rand watched as the screen lit up with pleasant green type announcing The Wizard of Zo, a novel on disk by Garson Wolfe. He picked up the camera with its tapered, boxy frame that fit over the screen and focused it, then snapped the picture. Sillabus let the disk run on for some time while Rand photographed the screen, then went back to the beginning.

“You’ll see what I mean.”

The screen now showed the title and author as a jumble of letters without even spaces between them. Rand started photographing again. “I was hoping for something simpler,” he admitted. “This appears to be a progressive mathematical formula of some sort. It’ll take another computer to come up with the proper relationship between cipher and plaintext.”

“Can you do it?”