The Last Good Man
Page 24
Ever since Niels had met Hannah, she’d had a nervous air about her. In the way she walked, in all her movements. But not right now.
“This is approximately how the earth looked about a billion years ago.” She held up the melon.
“Back when the continents were all connected?” said Niels.
“Exactly. It’s an accepted theory today, but it was less than a century ago that a German astronomer discovered how they all fit together—quite literally. It took years before anyone believed him.”
Niels stared at the melon.
“Let’s go on to a new world.” She looked up at him. “Just for a moment, let’s travel to a world called Rodinia.”
55
Niels had taken off his jacket. The café was filling up with students hungry for lunch.
“The word ‘Rodinia’ comes from Russian, meaning ‘motherland.’ And that’s exactly what the supercontinent of Rodinia is: the mother of all the lands.”
“Okay.” Niels nodded.
“It was when Rodinia split up that life on earth truly began to develop. The subsequent periods are called the Ediacaran and Cambrian periods. There are other periods, but I’m not a geologist.”
“Why are we talking about continents and . . .”
“Rodinia.”
“Yes. What do they have to do with the murders?”
Hannah poked at her food. “I knew that the system had to do with human beings. With life. According to the myth, the thirty-six are supposed to take care of the rest of humanity. And people live on earth, not on the water. That’s why I took away the oceans. And here, in this primitive representation of Rodinia, I discovered something remarkable.” She held up the melon.
The young couple at the next table had stopped eating and were paying close attention, as if they were at a lecture in an auditorium.
“I looked at the points from above and saw that they formed a pattern. Then I compared the pattern with the dates of the murders. Meaning the order of the points. I assigned a number to each of them. The seventeenth murder was in Beijing. The fourteenth in Cape Town.”
“Khayelitsha. South Africa.”
“Precisely. And the ninth was in Mecca. The fifteenth in Thunder Bay.”
“Sarah Johnsson.”
“Right. Let me draw you a picture.”
She cleared all the glasses and plates off the table. The girl at the next table made room so Hannah could move everything over there. Then Hannah drew a big circle on the tablecloth.
“This is the earth. The continents looked something like this.” She sketched in the continents so they were gathered around the South Pole. “This will give you a general idea. And the places where the murders occurred—the points—are approximately here.”
With impressive speed, she put in thirty-four points. “We’ll give each of them a number according to when they occurred. Do you see anything now?”
Niels looked at the drawing.
“Do you see that the numbers almost form small circles? Or small concentric shells?”
“Possibly.”
“And that they move back and forth from one half of the circle to the other?”
Niels didn’t reply. He noticed a cigarette pack in her handbag and had a fierce urge to ask her to step outside with him to have a smoke.
“I figured out that the circles, or shells, are located at the twelfth, twenty-fourth, thirty-sixth, and forty-eighth parallels. But that’s not the most important thing at the moment.”
“No? What is the most important thing?”
“The system you’re looking at is an atom. And not just any atom. It’s atom number thirty-six.”
“Thirty-six. Just like—”
“The myth. It might be a coincidence, but it might not. The Niels Bohr Institute has played a major role in the mapping of the known elements. Maybe I have atoms on the brain, but it’s an indisputable fact that this system—down to the smallest detail—is structured exactly like atom number thirty-six. Krypton.”
“Kryptonite?” Niels smiled. “Are you telling me this has something to do with Superman?”
“No, unfortunately not. Superman isn’t part of the system. Krypton is a noble gas. The word comes from the Greek word kryptos, which means ‘the hidden.’ ”
“ ‘The hidden’? Why’s that?”
“Presumably because the element krypton is a colorless gas. But it has the special property that it lights up in spectacular green and orange spectral lines when a current passes through it. In other words, it can be activated to emit light. It’s also used to define the length of a meter because of something called the krypton-86 isotope.”
Niels couldn’t help laughing. “Is there anything in this world that you don’t know, Hannah?”
“Krypton is a noble gas, as I said, so it’s inert. It’s one of very few atoms that is perfect. It’s in a state of equilibrium. It doesn’t go looking for other atoms to combine with. And it’s not as if the earth’s atmosphere is filled with krypton. Air contains only 0.0001 percent krypton.” Hannah fell silent. “The myth of the thirty-six righteous people. Or am I over-interpreting? I just feel like I can sense a connection.”
State of equilibrium. The hidden. Perfect. Alone. She was talking so fast that Niels didn’t catch everything she said. “Niels, the number thirty-six is a miracle in itself. Three plus six is nine. And if you multiply thirty-six by another number, the digits in the total will always add up to nine. Thirty-six times twelve is four thirty-two. Four plus three plus two is nine. Thirty-six times seven is two fifty-two. Try it yourself. When the numbers get bigger, you just divide them by two.”
“Hannah, I’m really sorry, but what exactly are you trying to tell me? Let’s just skip the in-between parts.”
She stared at him as if weighing what to say. Maybe she was searching for the combination of simple words that would make everything clear to him. Then she said, “Okay, without all the in-between parts: The locations on the earth where the murders took place were established billions of years before any humans even existed. As you know, I figured out where in South Africa that defense lawyer died. And I did it by looking at this system. A precisely determined system based on the continents as they were connected at the beginning of time.”
She pointed to the drawing on the table. “I’m telling you that if the system looks the way I think it looks, then we’ll know exactly where and when all of the murders took place. Plus where and when the last two murders will occur.”
“We will?” Niels discovered that he was whispering. He repeated in a louder voice, “We will?”
“I’ve written the whole thing down. Look at this.” She took out a piece of paper and handed it to Niels. He unfolded it and studied what she’d written.
1. Olduvai Gorge (Tanzania)—Friday, April 24, 2009 (CHAMA KIWETE)
2. Santiago (Chile)—Friday, May 1, 2009 (VICTOR HUELVA)
3. Bangui (Central African Republic)—Friday, May 8, 2009
4. Monrovia (Liberia)—Friday, May 15, 2009
5. Dakar (Senegal)—Friday, May 22, 2009
6. Cusco (Peru)—Friday, May 29, 2009 (MARIA SAYWA)
7. Rio de Janeiro (Brazil)—Friday, June 5, 2009 (AMANDA GUERREIRO)
8. Samarkand (Uzbekistan)—Friday, June 12, 2009
9. Mecca (Saudi Arabia)—Friday, June 19, 2009
10. Tel Aviv (Israel)—Friday, June 26, 2009 (LUDVIG GOLDBERG)
11. Nairobi (Kenya)—Friday, July 3, 2009 (NANCY MUTTENDANGO)
12. Johannesburg (South Africa)—Friday, July 10, 2009 (HELEN LUTULI)
13. Chicago (USA)—Friday, July 17, 2009 (ANDREW HITCHENS)
14. Cape Town (South Africa)—Friday, July 24, 2009 (JORIS MATHIJSEN)
15. Thunder Bay (Canada)—Friday, July 31, 2009 (SARAH JOHNSSON)
16. McMurdo Station (Antarctica)—Friday, August 7, 2009 (JONATHAN MILLER)
17. Beijing (China)—Friday, August 14, 2009 (LING ZEDONG)
18. Bangalore (India)—Friday,
August 21, 2009
19. Babylon (Iraq)—Friday, August 28, 2009 (SAMIA AL-ASSADI)
20. Chennai (India)—Friday, September 4, 2009
21. Kathmandu (Nepal)—Friday, September 11, 2009
22. Hanoi (Vietnam)—Friday, September 18, 2009 (TRUONG THO)
23. Kaliningrad (Russia)—Friday, September 25, 2009 (MASHA LIONOV)
24. Caracas (Venezuela)—Friday, October 2, 2009
25. Helsinki (Finland)—Friday, October 9, 2009
26. Belém (Brazil)—Friday, October 16, 2009 (JORGE ALMEIDA)
27. Nuuk (Greenland)—Friday, October 23, 2009
28. Athens (Greece)—Friday, October 30, 2009
29. Paris (France)—Friday, November 6, 2009 (MAURICE DELEUZE)
30. Seattle (USA)—Friday, November 13, 2009 (AMY ANISTON)
31. Moscow (Russia)—Friday, November 20, 2009 (VLADIMIR ZHIRKOV)
32. Shanghai (China)—Friday, November 27, 2009
33. Washington, D.C. (USA)—Friday, December 4, 2009 (RUSSELL YOUNG)
34. Mumbai (India)—Friday, December 11, 2009 (RAJ BAIROLIYA)
35.
36.
Niels was staring at the piece of paper. The young man at the next table got up to pay the bill. The girl craned her neck to see what the paper said. Hannah continued her lecture.
“We know that the outermost shell of atom number thirty-six is symmetrical. In other words, once we’ve located numbers thirty-three and thirty-four, which we have”—she pointed—“we’ll know exactly where to find numbers thirty-five and thirty-six.”
“And where’s that?”
“I think our friend in Venice must have been able to decipher part of the system. Because some of the continents are the same as they’ve always been. They’ve just moved. That’s why there’s a precise distance between some of the murder locations. And that’s why I think he wanted to send a warning—”
Niels interrupted her. “Hannah. Where?”
She turned the paper around and wrote something down. “All right. Now the system is complete.”
Niels read what she’d written:
35. Venice OR Copenhagen—Friday, December 18, 2009
36. Venice OR Copenhagen—Friday, December 25, 2009
He stared at the words. Maybe he’d actually known all along. Maybe he’d sensed it from the moment he was assigned the case. Even so, he felt as if all the blood had drained from his head and his heart stood still.
“We know the time and place of the last two murders. We just don’t know the order.”
“So what you’re saying is that . . .”
“That today at sunset a murder will be committed either in Venice or here in Copenhagen.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Believe? This has nothing to do with beliefs, Niels. How else could I have figured out the location in South Africa? The statistical probability of it being a coincidence is . . .”
Niels had stopped listening. He felt his body getting heavier, almost as if it were being pressed downward—as if, without warning, gravity had doubled its intensity. He looked at Hannah. Her thin lips were still moving. Arguing, lecturing. He forced himself to listen to what she was saying.
“I’m telling you, Niels, there’s a definite system to this. A system of . . . let’s just call it of godlike proportions. It’s telling us that the next murder will occur today at sundown in either Venice or Copenhagen.”
“But where in Copenhagen?”
Hannah tore off another piece of the paper tablecloth, which was looking quite ragged by now, and wrote down some numbers. The young couple was about to leave. The girl gave Hannah an appreciative look before she exited the café. Hannah didn’t notice as she handed the paper with the numbers to Niels.
“What’s this?”
“The latitude and longitude here in Copenhagen. Either today or next Friday.”
“Are you sure, Hannah?”
“Don’t ask me that, Niels. I’m just telling you how the system works. Mathematics never lies. Copenhagen tonight at sundown, or someplace in Venice.”
Niels pointed at the numbers she’d written down. “Where exactly is this?”
“I don’t understand what you mean. The latitude and longitude are right there on that piece of paper.”
“Yes, but Hannah, where is this?”
56
Nørrebro—Copenhagen
Niels came out of the café. The shift from indoor to outdoor lighting was barely noticeable. In a few days’ time, it would be the shortest and darkest day of the year. The old streetlights, with their faint yellow glow, were no match for the gathering gloom.
“The sun sets so early,” said Hannah. “We have only a few hours, max.”
She stood behind him, putting the change from the lunch bill in her wallet. She had set the cardboard box containing the case materials on the sidewalk.
Niels turned around and looked at her. “When does the sun go down?”
“Just before four. Why?”
“Why?” Niels looked at her in astonishment. Was it all just theoretical for her? A parlor game? “Hannah. You said the murder would occur at sunset. Right?”
“Yes, that’s right. At the exact moment when the sun goes down.”
“Which means that we have five or six hours to find the location. And the person who is about to be murdered.”
Hannah gave Niels a look of surprise, as if her theory had taken on new meaning.
“Did you drive here?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Where are you parked?”
“It’s that little Audi over there.”
“Does it have a GPS?”
“Yes, it came with the car. I’ve never used it. I don’t even know how it works.”
Niels was the first to reach the car. Hannah climbed into the passenger seat, holding the cardboard box on her lap. She wasn’t used to his practical approach. Niels could see that about her. She had delivered the results, completed her lecture. For her, the world was primarily a theoretical place. A thought occurred to Niels: Had she been flirting with him in the café? Was that how a genius like Hannah flirted? By drawing atoms on the tablecloth and babbling about how the earth looked a billion years ago? Suddenly he understood why her life must be difficult.
“Listen here, Hannah. You were the one who said it first: Maybe we can prevent the next murder. And you called me.”
“Yes.” She nodded resolutely.
“So I’m ready.” Niels took the box from her and tossed it behind them on the backseat. “Let’s have a look at the GPS. Can it navigate by latitude and longitude?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Niels turned the key in the ignition. The little car started up with a low purr. Hannah turned on the GPS and looked to Niels for instructions. It’s going to be a long drive, he thought before he pulled out, nearly hitting a truck.
Jagtvej. Another one of the street names that every Copenhagen police officer associated with trouble and adolescent demonstrations. The sort of thing that in the old days could spread, attracting dissatisfied segments of the population to a revolt that might topple kings and governments. But no longer. The time of revolution was past. Back when the citizens decided that the absolute monarchy should be abolished, fewer than ten thousand people marched in a peaceful procession to the royal palace. Nowadays all the climate demonstrators assembled in Copenhagen couldn’t expect to get anything but a bad cold from their efforts. On the radio a commentator estimated that there were a hundred thousand people on the streets of Copenhagen at the moment, participating in street theater and protest marches.
Niels shook his head. A million people on the streets of London hadn’t been able to influence Tony Blair’s decision to send British soldiers to Iraq. So how were a hundred thousand climate activists going to turn down the earth’s temperature?
“Is it working?” Niels watched Hannah awkwardly touching the GPS screen. “Is it hard to figure out?”
She gave him an offended look. “Niels! When I was four years old, I was able to solve quadratic equations.”
“I was just asking.”
Silence. She studied the screen. “Okay, it’s ready now. We need to head south a bit.”
“South?”
“Southwest, actually.”
The traffic wasn’t moving at all. It looked like a still photograph. Jagtvej was always like that. Once upon a time the thoroughfare had been reserved for members of the royal family when they left the palace to go out hunting. As soon as it was opened to the general public, the road became instantly popular. In a capital where the urban planning was haphazard and chaotic, to say the least, Jagtvej should have offered some relief: an unbroken line from one end of the city to the other, from the Nordhavn district in the northeast all the way across to Carlsberg in the southwest. Niels endured the traffic on Jagtvej every single day, and he hated it. It was also unhealthy. Modern technology was set up everywhere, measuring the pollution created by the gasoline engines the activists were demonstrating against. The air on this street was about as unhealthy to breathe as the air in Mexico City. If this were Japan, everyone would be walking around wearing masks over their mouths. But it was neither Tokyo nor Osaka. It was Copenhagen, and people here weren’t as particular about the air they breathed.
Niels lit a cigarette. “Do you mind if I smoke in your car?”