Frustration gnawed at him. Andrew packed the muddy spade into his car and drove back to the village. The archives clerk remembered him and raised an eyebrow at his return. Andrew unfolded the deed, showing his markings, asking whether such codes had ever been used in official documents before.
The clerk chuckled uneasily. “Not in deeds, no. But codes were everywhere during the war. Some of the professors here helped with them. Hidden signals in ordinary texts, maps disguised as poetry. Clever ways to communicate without ever appearing suspicious. Your uncle could have done the same.”