it a sign.’
‘Strange how your God uses earthquakes for signs only in earthquake zones,’ he said. ‘Why is that, do you think? Wouldn’t it be more impressive if He made them happen in places without geological faults? And, while we’re at it, why does He always bring down the cheapest housing, killing poor people by the tens of thousands, while leaving alone the houses and offices of rich people designed and built by structural engineers and architects like myself? Does He hate the poor that much, do you think?’
‘I didn’t come here to discuss theology, Benyamin,’ said Avram. ‘I know you don’t believe. But I do, others do. Others who’ll be moved to do the things we both want precisely
Benyamin shrugged. ‘You’re right. I don’t care. The earthquake was a sign. What do you need?’
Avram realized, a little too late, that he’d just set himself up for mockery. But there was nothing for it now. ‘I want to be sure that our charges work,’ he said. ‘I want to make sure the Dome implodes completely.’
Benyamin shook his head. ‘Implosion is a technical term,’ he said. ‘It happens when exterior pressure is greater than interior pressure. What you’ll be doing is knocking out support pillars and letting gravity go to work.’
‘But we’ll bring it down, yes?’
‘Oh, yes. You’ll bring it down.’ He frowned. ‘Why would you even think otherwise? Has something changed since we last …’ He realized the answer for himself, burst out laughing. ‘It’s the earthquake, isn’t it? They’ve put up scaffolding and buttresses in case of another shock. And now you’re worried that even if you take out the pillars, the Dome will stay up. That’s it, isn’t it?’ He rocked delightedly back in his chair. ‘Your sign!’ he taunted. ‘Your precious sign! What a perverse God He is, to make your task so difficult.’
‘Please keep your voice down,’ said Avram. ‘Do you want people to hear?’
‘Why? Won’t your God protect us from eaves-droppers?’
‘I’m getting tired of this,’ said Avram. ‘Will you help or not?’
‘I don’t see how I can. A situation like this, I’d need to get inside, examine the work up close. Not a chance in hell they’ll let that happen. Not a chance in hell they’ll let
Avram leaned forwards. ‘Signs aren’t meant to make things easy,’ he said. ‘They’re meant to make them significant. They’re meant to make our people receptive to His message, so that their hearts will flood with belief and they’ll have the strength to do the hard things that will need doing. The things that need
Benyamin shrugged. ‘It would be better than nothing. But not much. It’s impossible to gauge structural strength accurately from video. You need to see the thing itself, the materials, the workmanship. My advice, just put charges on everything.’
‘We don’t have enough. Or the men to carry them.’
‘Then you have a problem.’
Avram nodded. ‘There is one solution I can think of.’
Benyamin gave Avram a sour look. ‘One more than I can,’ he said.
‘Perhaps you’re weakening,’ suggested Avram. ‘I could understand that. It’s been three years now, hasn’t it? Over three. Perhaps you don’t feel so strongly any more.’
Colour flushed Benyamin’s face. ‘I feel strongly.’
‘Then come with us tomorrow night. See the repairs for yourself. Examine the pillars and the scaffolding. Tell us where to place the charges. You can finally do something to avenge Elizabeth. It was Elizabeth, wasn’t it?’
Benyamin’s expression stiffened. ‘You know it was.’
‘And Judy and Rosanna?’
‘I remember their names,’ said Benyamin tightly. ‘You think I could ever forget their names?’
Avram nodded. ‘You don’t have to decide now,’ he said. ‘All I ask is that you listen to my plan.’
‘Go on, then.’
‘Not now. Tomorrow night. I’ll explain everything then, and I’ll show you something that will make even
‘What?’
Avram got to his feet. ‘Tomorrow night. Be ready when I call.’
‘Very well,’ said Benyamin. ‘Tomorrow night.’
IV
‘All done?’ asked Walters, turning into the Jonson’s Cars lot.
‘All done,’ nodded Kieran. ‘I’ve changed the girl’s login details, and I’ve deleted every mail and attachment in all her folders, including the one from her aunt, and those photos.’
‘And she didn’t forward them anywhere first?’
‘She didn’t forward it, no. But it’s possible she downloaded or printed it.’
‘Shit. Then we still need to find them.’
He parked by the rental office, went inside. A bored young woman with peroxide hair and vivid pink lipstick was slouching behind a cheap pine desk. ‘Yes, sir?’ she asked, sitting up a little straighter. ‘Can I help you with something?’
‘I’m after information,’ said Walters.
‘About our stock or about our prices?’
‘About one of your cars. A red BMW soft top. I want to know who’s driving it.’
She gave a gulping kind of laugh. ‘Are you serious? I can’t tell you that!’
Walters didn’t have time for subtlety. He took out his wedge, counted off?500 in twenties, slapped them on her desk. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
She stared hungrily at the money. ‘Do you have the licence number?’ she asked. He gave it to her. She tapped keys, checked her screen. ‘It’s a business rental,’ she said. ‘Goldwood Laboratories. They’re over at Cherry Hinton Science Park. You know it?’
‘I can find it.’ He frowned at a thought. ‘I don’t suppose you put trackers in your SatNavs, do you?’
‘I can’t trace them for you, if that’s what you’re asking. Not from here. They handle all that out of Head Office.’
‘Okay,’ said Walters. ‘Not to worry. And not a word, right?’
‘Are you kidding?’ she said, tucking her money away. ‘They’d fire me in a heartbeat.’
TWELVE
I
Pelham lived in a converted malting house a short drive north of Cambridge. He parked in his designated slot by a grass bank and led them inside. Compared to the well-tended lawns and communal areas, his ground- floor apartment was a mess. He waved a hand in vague explanation or excuse for it as he led them into his shelf- lined study, crowded and dark with books and journals, many more stacked in precarious tall heaps on the floor, like a child’s recreation of the Alps.
They went straight to the printer, fearful that the Newton papers wouldn’t have made it; but they were there, waiting for them in the out-tray. The printer, however, had tried so hard to capture the lush sepia background of the originals that it had drenched the cheap printing paper in yellow and black ink, blurring Newton’s
