like anyone who joins will be part of some blockbuster Hollywood movie.’
Woods picked up his green tea. Smelled it. Put it right back down on the walnut table.
‘You know they named the magazine after a small town in Syria, because according to Islamic prophecies that’s where they’ll have their last battle, before the end of the world occurs.’
‘Got to give it to them, they know a great marketing angle when they see it. Makes it all sound appealing… Sorry, John, I’ve just become aware of the time – and aware Naomi’s probably on the other side of that door having some kind of panic attack, so let me get to the point. My guy got a call from this kid – well, when I say kid, the man’s in his twenties. Apparently he tried to tell the FBI that he had some information which might be of interest to them, but nobody would listen. He’s a bit of a loner, got some kind of learning difficulties, and has a history of calling up the police department telling them things like he’s seen a UFO, he knows who really killed JFK, the world is about to be taken over by an invading alien life force.’
‘Sounds like a movie tagline.’
‘Well, exactly, the kid’s clearly a bit of a conspiracy theorist. He’s been marked down as a timewaster by the Feds, and newspapers got wise to him a long time ago – one media outlet had to get a civil restraining order against him because he was making up to two hundred calls a day. He’s spent time in the slammer for breaking other orders against him. Spends most of his time hauled up in his apartment surrounded by all this equipment which tracks and monitors hurricanes, earthquakes and stuff, no doubt trying to track down aliens as well. Like this is his hobby. But here’s the thing, his place is located only a few blocks away from where David Thorpe’s truck exploded. Anyway, he’s got this junk set out all the time. Apparently you can’t move for it.’
‘I take it from the word junk, you mean equipment.’
‘Exactly… So one of the things he had was a seismograph. Go figure. But basically, I guess you know, a seismograph records earth tremors and the propagation of electric waves and the like. Says he never turned this thing off, and this is where it gets interesting: kid swears blind there were two unusual recorded tremors that evening.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, his seismograph picked up the tremor of the bomb, but a split second later, it also picked up another tremor. He’s convinced there were two blasts.’
Woods shrugged, slightly distracted by Teddy’s moustache, a new but not necessarily flattering addition to his face. ‘Yeah, one would be the bomb, the other tremor would be when part of the building came down.’
‘That’s exactly what the FBI said to him, brushed him away like he was some kind of bug, they’re not interested. But he kept calling the station where my friend’s based, almost got himself arrested again. That’s when my guy went to see him just to check he’s okay. Like I say, the kid’s got issues.’
‘And?’
‘The kid’s adamant there were two bomb blasts and the actual building coming down is recorded on a different seismic wave. This buddy of mine, the one who’s been a cop forever, who’s had to listen throughout his working life to that gut that cops have, he feels the kid’s genuine.’
‘Not that I’m taking this seriously, but it’s easy enough to prove. Get an expert to study the readouts.’
‘Well it would be easy, if he had them.’
‘I’m not following.’
‘The night before my buddy decided to go and see what this kid was all about, turns out his apartment was broken into. And you can guess the rest. The seismograph along with all the recordings were taken.’
‘What? Oh come on, Teddy, like you say this kid clearly has issues. He’s a fantasist. I can’t believe – in the nicest possible way – you’re taking up my time telling me this. I mean, who in Chatham is going to break into his place for seismograph readings? You said yourself he’s got a history of calling up the police department with all kind of crazy stuff. It’s sad. He probably didn’t even have a seismograph. Did he report the break in?’
‘No, didn’t bother.’
‘There you go. It’s obvious. He didn’t have anything to report, but had to make something up when your friend went to see him, because how else was he going to explain why he didn’t have a seismograph in his apartment? He probably never thought anybody would ever visit and when they did, he had to lie to cover up the fact he didn’t have one. I get that.’
‘Not necessarily. Maybe he didn’t report it because he really did figure no-one would believe him.’
‘Is he saying anything else was taken?’
‘No. Place wasn’t even trashed and the lock wasn’t even busted.’
Woods raised his eyebrows. ‘So how did they get in?’
‘Well, and hear me on this, if anyone really did get in, it must have been an expert job, not some bum breaking in and looking for a few bucks. It was a straight in and out job.’
Woods rubbed his face and absentmindedly reached for the cold cup of green tea, and immediately regretted it and pulled a face and put it down and said, ‘This all sounds like a load of baloney. I wouldn’t give it a second thought… but I’m picking up you’re giving it some credence.’
‘I trust my buddy and he seems to trust the kid, even with his history.’
‘You’re not making this easy for me, because if what he’s saying is true then…’
‘Then we’ve got a problem.’
‘And you really believe it?’
‘Part of me says, this kid is just looking for some kind of attention and the whole thing is bull. That’s the rational, reasoning side of me but the other part of me – and it’s speaking loudly – says to go along with my buddy’s instinct; this kid is for real.’
‘Did your friend tell anyone else about this?’
Teddy shook his head and stood up and spoke all at the same time. ‘No, and he told the kid not to say anything either until he got back to him.’
‘So, if we go for a minute with the idea he’s telling the truth – and that’s a big if – the next question is, do we know who else apart from the FBI this kid called about the recordings on his seismograph?’
‘That’s the problem. There were a lot of people, I think. He was obviously pretty determined to get somebody to listen. But the main people were the FBI, Chatham police department and, oh yeah, get this: the CIA. Counter terrorism. Chuck’s department. But not only his department, Chuck himself.’
SCOTTSDALE, ARIZONA
USA
c5 Bd7
‘Who drank all the Mountain Dew? You never heard of restocking? What is it with this place?’
Levi sat in the kitchen of Onyx. Feet up and grinning. ‘Don’t look at me, Coop. Never liked the stuff myself. Too gassy.’
‘Is that a fact?’
‘Sure is.’
‘Straight up?’
‘Straight up, Coop.’
Cooper grinned. ‘Let me tell you some…’
‘Well if it isn’t Thomas J Cooper, returning from the dead – though to look at you the jury’s still out on that one.’ With Levi’s conversation cut short, Cooper turned towards the sound of the thunderous voice. Not that he had to look. This was Austin Rosedale Young.