Mona didn’t seem to mind. “They could still go together like that,” she said. “But maybe they’re in the wrong order. Maybe it’s not outside ring to inside ring. Maybe it’s inside to outside. Some other pattern. I think Leonardo was having a little fun.”
Her eyes shone like blue beach glass. “You know what we’ve got to do now, don’t you?”
“We’ve got to scan each ring and blow it up to every possible size so that each ring could fit in any position in the bull’s-eye.”
“Exactly!”
We set about printing out ten transparencies for each ring, one for each position in the circle, labeling them #1 through #10 and dividing them into piles by size, so each could be fitted together with the others in every possible way. When we were done, we had a hundred sheets each for Circles of Truth One and Circles of Truth Two. The first combination, outer to inner, hadn’t worked. So, next we lined up the ringsinner to outer, with the original smallest circle on the outside, largest on the inside.
Nothing. We continued to try different combinations as Pop sat nearby with a yellow pad and pencil, making copious notes, recording the results.
An hour later and still nothing. Frustration crackled in me.
Pop said, “I could very well be the hungriest bastard ever been to Comptche. I’m going downstairs, fix us all something.” I looked at him, overwhelmed with anxiety. He patted me lightly on the shoulder. “She’s sparkling out there, Reb. She’s sparkling.”
Mona looked at him quizzically. “There’s tuna in the cupboard,” she said.
I heard him hobble out and down the stairs. Mona laid a hand on my knee. Emotion spiked.
“Look at me,” she urged.
She peered into my eyes, her gaze caressing every crevice in my rocky cave.
“Martha was a good woman,” she said softly. “I knew her for a long time before she adopted you. Knew her husband, George, as well, and how you filled in the space after he died. I knew all about you and your parents. I watched you grow and then you were gone and I wondered what path you chose.”
I started to choke up. “Leonardo laid a path for a mighty traveler to follow, Mona. I’m that traveler.”
After a moment of hushed silence, she breathed, “I appreciate what it took for you to come to me after all these years. I feel your desperation. I want to help. It’s my duty to help you. We’re not making sense of Leonardo’s shapes and we’re missing his pattern. If these are Leonardo’s dancing men, we must let them dance.”
Her face next to mine, she whispered, “Close your eyes, young man, and tell me what their next step is.”
I let my lids fall. Mona moved behind me. She whispered again in my ear, “Now try to clear your mind of all the past and all the future. You are alone with Leonardo. What do you see?”
I felt her fingers massage my temples and let my mind wander.
Suddenly the master’s words flashed before me. Ginny’s flowing script of Leonardo’s notes. “Out then in back and forth one to the other the seer will wander the path and the truth of the past will lead the wise one to the dagger.” Out then in. Outer inner. Mona’s fingers massaged my temples. In circles, back and forth. And there I was at the combination lock by the road to the Baby Face Nelson Suite where I saw a white-haired Leonardo kneeling, turning the dial. Something profound clicked inside. When I’d touched the lock, more than school memories had been triggered. I hadn’t known what. Now I did.
“The Circles rotate.”
A big smile crossed Mona’s lips. “Of course,” she said crisply.
She quickly marked a page with an X, printed it out on a transparency, and handed it to me along with a plastic-tipped pushpin.
I grabbed two transparencies from Circle One: #1 the largest, and #10, the smallest, but in the second-ring size so that it would butt up against #1. Placing the X transparency over them, I stuck a pushpin through dead center and slowly started rotating #10. Mona leaned in, her warm breath on my ear.
“Stop there,” she gasped. “Do you see?”
The ice of recognition chilled me like a polar wind. The two rings lined up. They connected.
“Oh my God,” I said, “they fit together. But what are they?”
“I know exactly what they are,” Mona said. “It isn’t symbols. Not dancing men, but calligraphy! It’s Leonardo’s alphabet. This is a circle of words! You picked the biggest then the smallest, #1 then #10. How did you know to do that?”
“Um . . . this is going to sound weird, but I don’t know how else tosay it. Leonardo told me. I don’t mean I heard his voice say it to me. That would be crazy.”
“Not to me. But I understand. You received the information.”
“Yes.”
“How far did you spin it? This can’t be haphazard.”
“Of course not. This is Leonardo.”
“Right. Each Circle of Truth is comprised of ten rings.”
“That’s it, Mona!” I shouted. “Ten rings, three hundred and sixty degrees. One ring, thirty-six degrees.” Another
