Ken Follett - The Hammer of Eden

“But after Bo puts this picture out on CLETS, every cop in California will be watching for one. And if the newspapers and TV carry the picture tomorrow, half the population will be on the lookout, too.”

The food came. It was spicier than she was used to but delicious. Judy ate with gusto. After a few minutes she caught Michael looking at her with a faint smile. She raised an eyebrow. “Did I say something witty?”

“I’m pleased you’re enjoying the cuisine.”

She grinned. “Does it show?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll try to be more dainty.”

“Please don’t. It’s a pleasure to watch you. Besides …”

“What?”

“I like your go-for-it attitude. It’s one of the things that attracts me to you. You seem to have a big appetite for life. You like Dusty, and you have a good time hanging out with your dad, and you’re proud of the FBI, and you obviously love beautiful clothes … you even enjoy Cap’n Crunch.”

Judy felt herself flush, but she was pleased. She liked the picture he painted of her. She asked herself what it was about him that had attracted her . It was his strength, she decided. He could be irritatingly stubborn, but in a crisis he would be a rock. This afternoon, when his wife had been so heartless, most men would have quarreled, but he had been concerned only for Dusty.

Plus, I’d really love to get my hands inside his jockey shorts .

Judith, behave .

She took a sip of wine and changed the subject. “We’re assuming that the Hammer of Eden have data similar to yours about pressure points along the San Andreas fault.”

“They must have, to pick the locations where the seismic vibrator could trigger an earthquake.”

“Could you go through the same exercise? Study the data and figure out the best place?”

“I guess I could. Probably there would be a cluster of five or six possible sites.” He saw the direction her thoughts were taking. “Then, I suppose, the FBI could stake out the sites and watch for a seismic vibrator.”

“Yes — if I were in charge.”

“I’ll make the list anyway. Maybe I’ll fax it to Governor Robson.”

“Don’t let too many people see it. You might cause a panic.”

“But if my forecast turned out to be right, it could give my business a shot in the arm.”

“Does it need one?”

“It sure does. I have one big contract that just about pays the rent and the bill for my ex-wife’s mobile phone. I borrowed money from my parents to start the business, and I haven’t begun to pay it back. I was hoping to land another major client, Mutual American Insurance.”

“I used to work for them, years ago. But go on.”

“I thought the deal was in the bag, but they’re delaying the contract. I guess they’re having second thoughts. If they back out, I’m in trouble. But if I predicted an earthquake and turned out to be right, I think they’d sign. Then I’d be comfortable.”

“All the same, I hope you’ll be discreet. If everyone tries to leave San Francisco at the same time, there’ll be riots.”

He gave a devil-may-care grin that was infuriatingly attractive. “Got you rattled, haven’t I?”

She shrugged. “I’ll admit it. My position at the Bureau is vulnerable. If I’m associated with an outbreak of mass hysteria, I don’t think I could survive there.”

“Is that important to you?”

“Yes and no. Sooner or later I plan to get out and have children. But I want to quit by my timetable, not someone else’s.”

“Do you have anyone in mind to have the children with?”

“No.” She gave him a candid look. “A good man is hard to find.”

“I imagine there’d be a waiting list.”

“What a nice compliment.” I wonder if you’d join the line. I wonder if I’d want you to .

He offered her more wine.

“No thanks. I’d like a cup of coffee.”

He waved at a waiter. “Being a parent can be painful, but you never regret it.”

“Tell me about Dusty.”

He sighed. “I have no pets, no flowers in the apartment, very little dust because of my computers. All the windows are closed tight, and the place is air-conditioned. But we walked down to the bookstore, and on the way home he petted a cat. An hour later he was the way you saw him.”

“It’s too bad. The poor kid.”

“His mother recently moved to a place in the mountains, up near the Oregon border, and since then he’s been okay — until today. If he can’t visit me without having an attack, I don’t know what we’ll do. I can’t go and live in fucking Oregon; there aren’t enough earthquakes there.”

He looked so troubled that she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “You’ll work something out. You love him, that’s obvious.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

They drank their coffee, and he paid. He walked her to her car. “This evening has gone so fast,” he said.

I think the guy likes me .

Good .

“Do you want to go to a movie sometime?”

The dating game. It never changes. “ Yes, I’d like that.”

“Maybe one night this week?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“May I kiss you good night?”

“Yes.” She grinned. “Yes, please.”

He bent his face to hers. It was a soft, tentative kiss. His lips moved gently against hers, but he did not open his mouth. She kissed him back the same way. Her breasts felt sensitive. Without thinking, she pressed her body against his. He squeezed her briefly, then broke away.

“Good night,” he said.

He watched her get into her car and waved as she drew away from the curb.

She turned a corner and pulled up at a stoplight.

“Wow,” she said.

On Monday morning Judy was assigned to a team investigating a militant Muslim group at Stanford University. Her first job was to comb computer records of gun licenses, looking for Arab names to check out. She found it hard to concentrate on a relatively harmless bunch of religious fanatics when she knew the Hammer of Eden were planning their next earthquake.

Michael called at five past nine. He said: “How are you, Agent Judy?”

The sound of his voice made her feel happy. “I’m fine, real good.”

“I enjoyed our date.”

She thought of that kiss, and the corners of her mouth twitched in a private smile. I’ll take another of those, anytime . “Me, too.”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“I guess.” That sounded too cool. “I mean, yes — unless something happens with this case.”

“Do you know Morton’s?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s meet in the bar at six. Then we can pick a movie together.”

“I’ll be there.”

But that was the only bright spot in her morning. By lunchtime she could no longer contain herself, and she called Bo, but he still had nothing. She called the seismic vibrator manufacturers, who said they had almost completed the list and it would be on her fax machine by the end of the business day. That’s another damn day gone! Now we’ve only got four days to catch these people .

She was too worried to eat. She went to Simon Sparrow’s office. He was wearing a natty English-style shirt, blue with pink stripes. He ignored the unofficial FBI dress code and got away with it, probably because he was so good at his job.

He was talking on the phone and watching the screen of a wave analyzer at the same time. “This may seem like an odd question, Mrs. Gorky, but would you tell me what you can see from your front window?” As he listened to the reply, he watched the spectrum of Mrs. Gorky’s voice, comparing it with a printout he had taped to the side of the monitor. After a few moments he drew a line through a name on a list. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Gorky. I don’t need to trouble you any further. Good-bye.”