Ken Follett - The Hammer of Eden

They passed the entrance to the governor’s personal suite, then the assistant opened the door to Honeymoon’s office.

Judy stepped inside.

For a moment she allowed herself to enjoy the shock and dismay on the faces of Brian Kincaid and Marvin Hayes.

Then she looked at Honeymoon.

The cabinet secretary was wearing a pale gray shirt with a subdued black-and-white-dotted tie and dark gray patterned suspenders. He looked at Judy with raised eyebrows and said: “Agent Maddox! Mr. Kincaid just got through telling me he took you off the case because you’re a ditz.”

Judy was floored. She was supposed to be in control of this scene; she was the one causing consternation. Honeymoon had outdone her. He was not going to be upstaged in his own office.

She recovered fast. Okay, Mr. Honeymoon, if you want to play hardball, I’ll go in to bat .

She said to him: “Brian’s full of shit.”

Kincaid scowled, but Honeymoon just raised his eyebrows slightly.

Judy added: “I’m the best agent he has, and I just proved it.”

“You did?” Honeymoon said.

“While Marvin has been sitting around with his thumb up his ass pretending there’s nothing to worry about, I’ve solved this case.”

Kincaid stood up, his face flushed. He said angrily: “Maddox, just what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

She ignored him. “I know who’s sending terrorist threats to Governor Robson,” she said to Honeymoon. “Marvin and Brian don’t. You can make your own decision about who’s the ditz.”

Hayes was bright red. He burst out: “What the hell are you talking about?”

Honeymoon said: “Let’s all sit down. Now that Ms. Maddox has interrupted us, we may as well hear what she has to say.” He nodded to his assistant. “Close the door, John. Now, Agent Maddox, did I hear you say you know who’s making the threats?”

“Correct.” She put a fax picture on Honeymoon’s desk. “This is Richard Granger, a hoodlum from Los Angeles who was believed, wrongly, to have been killed by the Mob in 1972.”

“And what makes you think he’s the culprit?”

“Look at this.” She handed him another piece of paper. “Here’s the seismograph of a typical earthquake. Look at the vibrations that precede the tremor. There’s a haphazard series of different magnitudes. These are typical foreshocks.” She showed him a second sheet. “This is the Owens valley earthquake. Nothing haphazard here. Instead of a natural-looking mess, there is a neat series of regular vibrations.”

Hayes interrupted. “No one can figure out what those vibrations are.”

Judy turned to him. “You couldn’t figure it out, but I did.” She put another sheet on Honeymoon’s desk. “Look at this chart.”

Honeymoon studied the third chart, comparing it with the second. “Regular, just like the Owens valley graph. What makes vibrations like these?”

“A machine called a seismic vibrator.”

Hayes sniggered, but Honeymoon did not crack a smile. “What’s that?”

“One of these.” She handed him the picture sent to her by the manufacturers. “It’s used in oil exploration.”

Honeymoon looked skeptical. “Are you saying the earthquake was man-made?”

“I’m not theorizing, I’m giving you the facts. A seismic vibrator was used in that location immediately before the earthquake. You can make your own judgment about cause and effect.”

He gave her a hard, appraising look. He was asking himself whether she was a bullshitter or not. She stared right back at him. Finally he said: “Okay. How does that lead you to the guy with the beard?”

“A seismic vibrator was stolen a week ago in Shiloh, Texas.”

She heard Hayes say: “Oh, shit.”

Honeymoon said: “And the guy in the picture …?”

“Richard Granger is the prime suspect in the theft — and in the murder of the truck’s regular driver. Granger was working for the oil exploration team that was using the vibrator. The E-fit picture is based on the recollections of his co-workers.”

Honeymoon nodded. “Is that it?”

“Isn’t it enough?” she expostulated.

Honeymoon did not respond to that. He turned to Kincaid. “What have you got to say about all this?”

Kincaid gave him a shit-eating grin. “I don’t think we should bother you with internal disciplinary matters—”

“Oh, I want to be bothered,” Honeymoon said. There was a dangerous note in his voice, and the temperature in the room seemed to fall. “Look at it from my angle. You come here and tell me the earthquake definitely was not man-made.” His voice became louder. “Now it appears, from this evidence, that it very likely was. So we have a group out there that could cause a major disaster.” Judy felt a surge of triumph as it became clear Honeymoon had bought her story. He was furious with Kincaid. He stood up and pointed a finger at Brian. “You tell me you can’t find the perpetrators, then in walks Agent Maddox with a name, a police record, and a fucking picture.”

“I think I should say—”

“I feel like you’ve been dicking me around, Special Agent Kincaid,” said Honeymoon, overriding Kincaid. His face was dark with anger. “And when people dick me around I get kind of tetchy.”

Judy sat silent, watching Honeymoon destroy Kincaid. If this is what you’re like when you’re tetchy, Al, I’d hate to see you when you’re real mad .

Kincaid tried again. “I’m sorry if—”

“I also hate people who apologize,” Honeymoon said. “An apology is designed to make the offender feel okay so that he can do it again. Don’t be sorry.”

Kincaid tried to gather the shreds of his dignity. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’re putting Agent Maddox in charge of this case.”

Judy stared at him. This was even better than she had hoped.

Kincaid looked as if he had been asked to strip naked in Union Square. He swallowed.

Honeymoon said: “If you have a problem with that, just say so, and I’ll have Governor Robson call the director of the FBI in Washington. The governor could then explain to the director the reasons why we’re making this request.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Kincaid said.

“So put Maddox in charge.”

“Okay.”

“No, not ‘okay.’ I want you to say it to her, right here, right now.”

Brian refused to look at Judy, but he said: “Agent Maddox, you are now in charge of the Hammer of Eden investigation.”

“Thank you,” Judy said.

Saved!

“Now get out of here,” Honeymoon said.

They all got up.

Honeymoon said: “Maddox.”

She turned at the door. “Yes.”

“Call me once a day.”

That meant he would continue to support her. She could talk to Honeymoon any time she liked. And Kincaid knew it. “You got it,” she said.

They went out.

As they were leaving the Horseshoe, Judy gave Kincaid a sweet smile and repeated the words he had said to her the last time they were in this building, four days ago. “You did just fine in there, Brian. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Dusty was sick all day Monday.

Melanie drove into Silver City to pick up more of the allergy drug he needed. She left Dusty being cared for by Flower, who was going through a sudden maternal phase.

She came back in a panic.

Priest was in the barn with Dale. Dale had asked him to taste the blend of last year’s wine. It was going to be a nutty vintage, slow to mature but long-lived. Priest suggested using more of the lighter pressing from the lower, shadier slopes of the valley, to make the wine more immediately appealing; but Dale resisted. “This is a connoisseur’s wine now,” he said. “We don’t have to pander to supermarket buyers. Our customers like to keep the wine in their cellars for a few years before drinking it.”