Ben narrowed his eyes. Noticed who?
About thirty, tall, dark hair. I thought he was a plain-clothes detective at first. He was hanging around in the background while I was talking to the other cops. Then while I was talking to the concierge, there he was again. Looking at me kind of strangely. But I didnt think much about it at the time. I left there soon afterwards and just started walking. I was so badly shaken up about what happened to Claudine, I barely knew where I was, let alone where I was going. Before I know it Im heading into a metro station. Abbesses, I think. Then I noticed the guy from the apartment building again, following me down the escalator, through the tunnels, hanging back like he didnt think Id spotted him and didnt want me to. I kept walking. Tried to lose myself in the crowd. By the time I got to the platform I couldnt see him anymore. I was thinking I must have imagined it. But then as the train pulled into the station, there he was again, just a few steps away. Staring at me. It totally freaked me out, Ben.
He didnt do anything?
Not then, she said. He never came any closer, didnt speak to me. I got on the train and he boarded the same carriage. I didnt look at him directly but I could see his reflection in the window. Just standing there at a distance, still watching me in this real creepy way. He had his arm up to hang onto the safety strap, and his jacket was hanging open. He had a gun in there, a black handgun, like a Glock or something. I didnt imagine it.
Ben felt like pointing out that French plain-clothes detectives routinely carried concealed sidearms in shoulder holsters on, or even sometimes off, duty but he kept quiet and let her go on talking.
I was terrified the carriage would empty and Id be left alone with him. I waited a couple of stops, then at Saint-Georges I got off. He did the same. Then just as the doors were about to close I pushed through the crowd and jumped back on again like the trick they do in movies? Worked. I left the sonofabitch standing there on the platform.
And then?
Then nothing. I stayed on the line all the way to Concorde and then ran like hell back up to the street and hailed the next cab I saw.
Ben was silent for a moment. You mean thats all that happened?
Roberta stared at him. What did you want to hear? That he abducted me at gunpoint? Tried to punt me onto the electrified rail in front of all the crowds?
I thought perhaps
Ben, you werent there, she said imploringly. It was obvious what was happening. I was so scared. Thats when I had the idea of calling you. She paused, blushed a little. I Ive looked you up a few times. Maybe more than a few times. So I knew you were in France. At least, I thought you were. When I called, this Jeff person told me youd moved to England. Gave me an address in Oxford but said youd been spending a lot of time at this village called Little Denton. Anyway, I didnt know what else to do except jump on the next Eurostar. Arrived in London a couple of hours ago, rented that car and drove like crazy all the way to Oxford. Took me forever to find your place, then you werent home, so I found this place on the map and came out here hoping Id find you. Ben, please. Im exhausted and Im terrified. Youve got to help me.
Ben was silent for a minute as he tried to put the breathless rush of details together in his mind. Im confused about this man who followed you from your friends apartment, he said. You told me before you thought he was a detective. Now it sounds like youre trying to imply hes the murderer.
Maybe he is, she said. Her expression was intense.
Roberta, think about it, he protested. The serial killer? You really believe this handyman would linger about the scene of his own crime pretending to be a plain-clothes detective, hoping to knock off his victims friends as they came to visit? He might be a maniac, but nobodys that crazy.
She shook her head. Uh-uh. That would be a little far-fetched, even for me. Thats why Im totally certain that this serial killer thing is a blind alley. It wasnt the handyman who killed Claudine. Dont you see? Its just been set up to appear that way. Some bullshit story to lead the cops off the track while Oh, Ben, dont look at me like that. Like Im some kind of paranoid conspiracy loon.
I dont think that about you.
You mean, you dont want to think it. But youre thinking it.
I dont know what to think, he said. If it wasnt this sicko who killed her, then who did?
How can I know that? Nobody does, thats the whole idea. They do this kind of thing all the time, when they want to rub someone out who gets in their way.
They do it all the time?
Yes, they, she snapped.
All right, he said. Leave that to one side. Next question: who came after you on the metro with the apparent intention of doing you harm?
I dont know that either.
Roberta, if you dont know these things, isnt it simpler just to accept what the police say?
Since when did you ever take a cops word for a single damn thing, Ben Hope? she demanded hotly. You trust them even less than I do. Besides, the letter proves its not that simple.
The letter we dont have any more, Ben said. And even if we did, it proves nothing.
Hold on. She knew she was in danger. Thats the whole point.
If this murderer hasnt been caught yet, maybe its because hes careful, Ben said. Psychopaths are often extremely cunning and devious. Sick, but smart. Theyve been known to plan their attacks, weeks, months in advance.
So?
So he might have been watching your friend for some time before he struck. But maybe he wasnt so careful that she didnt spot him and somehow sensed that something wasnt right about him. That could easily explain how she knew in advance that something was about to happen. She panicked.
Oh, so youve got this whole thing figured out, Roberta snapped. Then you tell me who the guy was on the train.
He shrugged. Maybe your first impression was the right one. He could have been a detective. You know the way their minds work. He might have wanted to ask you more questions. About the letter, perhaps. Or else maybe the whole thing is just Ben checked himself from saying more. Hed already said too much, and could see the fire in her eyes.
Just what? she said fiercely.
All Im saying, Roberta, is that maybe you need to think again. That maybe, for once in their lives, the police are right about this terrible thing thats happened to your friend.
And the rest I just cooked up in my imagination. That what youre saying, Ben?
You told me yourself you felt dazed, disorientated, after you left Claudines place. It would be understandable. People can suffer from all kinds of confusion at a time of great emotional stress.
Youre so sure about this, arent you? In one way you havent changed at all, Ben Hope. Youre still just as much of a pigheaded bastard as when I first met you.
Thanks, he muttered. Remember, you came to me. Youre not giving me much of a chance here.
What about the numbers? she demanded. The GPS location and whatever else is there? You got a theory for those too? I have. If something happened to her, she intended for me to figure it out. Theres more to this, and Im going to find out what.
Ben leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, gazing at the ground between his feet and trying to understand. He knew Roberta well enough to know there was absolutely no point in trying to convince her to go home and wait for the police to do their job. And he couldnt ignore the voice in his head reminding him of all the times hed seen the cops botch everything up.
All right, then explain it to me, he said. Someone murdered your friend, and now theyre coming after you, and it has something to do with this letter and a coded message. Who are they? Whats it about?
Roberta paused to brush away a strand of dark red hair that had fallen into her eyes. Her brow was creased with strain. Fact is, Ben, I think I know. Something tells me this all has to do with Claudines research.
While they were deeply involved in their conversation, a hundred yards away at the other end of the park, a sleek black Audi saloon purred to a halt next to Robertas rental car. Its front doors opened and two men silently got out. Neither of them looked out of the ordinary. The one whod been driving was in his early-to-mid thirties with nondescript brown hair and sunglasses, the other about ten years older, more heavily built, with a receding stubble of grey and eyes narrowed to slits against the early afternoon glare. They were casually dressed in jeans and lightweight jackets.
Neither spoke. As they both gazed impassively at the blue Vauxhall the older man was receiving instructions via a mobile phone. He listened until his instructions were complete, then gave a short nod to his colleague.
The driver opened the boot. He took out the black holdall from inside. It sagged heavily in his hand.
The two men scanned the near-empty park. Within a few seconds theyd located their target on the green wooden bench in the distance and taken note of the unknown male accompanying her. The men exchanged glances when they saw how the targets companion was dressed.
It was no ordinary camera that was built into the mobile phone the older of the two men was carrying. He quickly, discreetly, used it to snap the figures on the bench, then redialled a number. Shes not alone, he said when the voice replied on the line. Shes talking to a priest.
Pause. Yeah, thats what I said. Im sending the image now. Got it?
Ive got it, said the gruff voice on the other end. I see them. Okay, its her last confession. His too. Make it quick and quiet.
The call was over. The two men divided the contents of the holdall. Then moved unnoticed around the edge of the park to their position.
Chapter Five
The word research, from the lips of Roberta Ryder, held certain negative past associations for Ben. After all, it had been some bizarre experimental research of her own that had first not only brought them together but drawn the attention of ruthless people whod very nearly succeeded in killing them both.
You told me Claudine was a lecturer, he said. Lecturer in what?
Physics, Roberta replied.
It doesnt sound very dangerous.
But then, what do you know about physics?
He said nothing. Aside from weapons ballistics, the complexities of calculating long-range rifle bullet trajectories, the cold mathematics of war and destruction that he wanted to forget hed ever learned, he didnt know much.
Thats what I thought, she said. Then I dont suppose youve ever heard of a guy called Tesla? He was the subject of Claudines research, ever since I first knew her.
Of course Ive heard of him, he said defensively. First to experiment with electricity, back in the nineteenth century. Made dead frogs legs dance about by passing current through them. I dont see what
That was Galvani, Ben, Roberta interrupted impatiently. Im talking about the great Serbian scientist Nikola Tesla, born 1856. Actually Im not surprised you didnt know about him, she added after a beat. I mean, everyones heard of the Marconis and Faradays and Edisons of this world, but Teslas the pioneer genius who somehow wound up forgotten. Which is pretty incredible, considering he came up with the principles behind wireless communication, remote control, radar, sonar, robotics, neon and fluorescent light, and foresaw the internet and cell phones as early as 1908. Not to mention his work on
I get the picture, Ben interrupted, knowing she was liable to launch into a whole science lecture if he didnt break her stream.
I dont know that you do get it, she said. She paused a moment. Gazed across the park, where the young mother was still pushing her son to and fro on the swing. The child was howling in delight as the swings arc carried him higher and higher.
Look at that, Roberta said, pointing. That kids mother cant weigh more than a hundred and five pounds soaking wet. Shes even smaller than I am. But see how little force it takes, at just the right moment, to make the swing go up high in the air. She looked round at Ben. Thats what Claudines research was about.
About shoving a kid back and forth on a swing?
She tutted. Dont be so obtuse, Hope. Its about the principle of resonance, the idea that tiny forces, precisely enough timed and placed, can accumulate to create massive energies.
Youre going to have to be more specific.
Okay, let me put it another way. The Earths vibrations have a periodicity of about an hour forty-nine minutes. In other words, if I were to hit something solid against the ground right now, it would send a wave of contraction through the whole planet that would return to the same point one hour forty-nine minutes later in the form of expansion. Follow me?
Oh, absolutely, he said.
Missing his sarcasm, she went on: So you see, the Earth, like everything else, is in a constant state of vibration, ever expanding and contracting. Now imagine that at the exact moment when it begins to contract, I detonate a ton of high explosive in the exact same spot. That would accelerate the contraction, so that one hour forty-nine minutes later there would come back a wave of expansion that was equally accelerated. Now, if as that expansion wave began to ebb I set off another ton of explosive, and I kept repeating that pattern again and again eventually, what do you suppose would happen?
Ben looked blank.
Its obvious, if you think about it. Given time, Tesla calculated that he could build up enough of an energy wave to split the Earth.
Split the Earth, Ben repeated in a flat tone.
She nodded matter-of-factly, as if splitting the Earth were all part and parcel of a scientists everyday routine. Thats the idea. See? Small input, big effect. Pretty much all of Teslas work was based on those principles, and thats what Claudine was interested in. She was talking about it when I first met her, and she was still talking about it the last time we had a conversation on the phone, which was about five months ago.