Enigma Page #4

If I'm ever old.|Do you think it's beautiful?

Why are you a mathematician?|Do you like sums?

I like numbers.

Because with numbers,|truth and beauty are the same thing.

You know you're getting somewhere|when the equations start looking...

beautiful.

And you know the numbers are taking you|closer to the secret of how things are.

A rose is just plain text.

My God.|What have you done?

What has she done?

- Mr Jericho?|- Miss Wallace.

I came looking for Claire.|I was worried about her.

I could fiill a bus with men|who are worried about Claire Romilly...

but that's no reason why|I shouldn't go to the police.

She'd be the fiirst person|they'd arrest.

Miss Wallace,|please put that poker down.

And if you know where she is,|for God's sake, tell me.

She's gone missing.

What are those, exactly?

Intercepts. German signals.

Yes, I know that much.

Five-letter groups. German Navy signals|are sent in four-letter groups.

So this must be army|or Luftwaffe.

Picked up by the radio scanners|at Beaumanor.

All sent between 9:30 and midnight|on April 17, nine days ago.

- But never deciphered.|- How do you know that?

Well, if it'd gone through|the machine, then plain text|would be stuck on the back.

All from the same source.|''ADU. ADU.''

Does the call sign ADU|mean anything to you, Miss Wallace?

Miss Wallace?

''Angels Dance Upwards.''

- What?|- Well, that's how we'd reference it.

- Who is it? Who is ADU?|- I don't know.

But you could fiind out.

Do you have any idea|what you're saying?

We can't just go digging through|Bletchley looking for information|about missing cryptograms.

If we want to fiind Claire, then we need|to fiind out what she was hiding.

- You think Claire is a traitor.|- Would it matter if she were?

Of course it matters.|Look...

she was probably flirting|with an offiicer and forgot|to fiile those intercepts...

so she hid them|rather than get told off.

Or she stole them|and then she ran away.

You really are mad,|aren't you?

And I would have to be even madder|to have any part in this little|amateur sleuthing adventure.

Miss Wallace.|Miss Wallace!

You said yourself|that she was missing.

Now, is that normal?|Is that her habit?

Well, she does always come home|to change her clothes.

Well, there you are.

Is she seeing anyone,|do you know?

What exactly is your interest here?

You can reach me at Armstrong's|Guest House in Albion Street.

ADU, Miss Wallace.

Angels Dance Upwards.

They call it BlacBottom|the new twister

lt's sure got 'em|and, oh, sister

They clap their hands|and do a raggedy flop and a hop

Old fellows with lumbago

nd high yellow|The waves they go

They jump right in|and give us all that they've got

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