“Maybe everyone will stay inside,” Jon interrupted, “and be careful to just venture out at intervals until they get used to it.”
“Do you really think most people will do that? If so, you’re ignoring some other basic and enduring elements of human nature, like how we stare at traffic accidents.”
“Point taken. But what about the fact that you’re saying these things so loudly, and they’ve been broadcast so widely? The guy from Harvard who criticizes you made this point—that it’s like the opposite of a self-fulfilling prophecy. What’s it called…?”
“A self-defeating prophecy.” She nodded.
“Right. People are talking about it so much that they’ll prevent it.”
“Let’s hope that happens,” Carter said.
“The more you say something’s gonna happen, the less chance of it happening, right?” This was from Halladay, slow on the uptake and even slower in his understanding of statistical probability. “Like me and Nina never talk about winning the Lotto, because then it won’t happen.”
“I don’t think it actually works like that,” Carter said with a condescending smile, and then responded when Jon brought the conversation back to the point by asking about the fourth phobia.
“The last one is thermophobia, fear of heat. This is the one that’s related to Dr. Gunther’s theories, though I’m more concerned with the psychological effects than the physiological causes, which are his bailiwick. The ionization in the atmosphere that occurs during Dayfall will raise air temperatures considerably—this is already starting to happen as the clouds are thinning—and it will raise body temperatures also. Any New Yorker will tell you what happens in this city when it’s really hot in the summer.… People’s irritation levels are way up and tempers flare so much faster. This will start to happen within hours, or maybe within minutes of full sunlight, depending on how fast it snowballs.”
“I think you just mixed your metaphors,” Jon said. “But seriously.… Could you be wrong about all this?”
“Anybody can be wrong about anything,” Carter said. “But if by some chance my theories don’t hold up, I think Dr. Gunther’s alone ensure that we’ll have at least a minor apocalypse.”
“You think his hard science is more reliable than your social psychology?”
“I trust Peter’s expertise,” she said confidently. “I fear that the physical effects of Dayfall combined with the psychological will make it even worse than anyone has imagined.”
Then, as if on cue, the slightly older and graying man appeared in the office door, carrying a beat-up briefcase that seemed out of place in the pristine modern space.
It didn’t take long for Jon to feel confirmed in his guess that the two professors had some kind of relationship with one another. They didn’t give overt clues or evidence, but they also didn’t seem to be going out of their way to act like they were merely coworkers. This contributed to the overall vibe he got that they were guilty about something, but in their minds it wasn’t that bad or they weren’t worried about any consequences.
To observe the dynamic between the two of them, and to build a bridge to what he really wanted to find out, Jon asked Gunther to summarize his theories as Carter had. His explanations were even further over Jon’s head than hers had been—so much so that he found it difficult to interact in any way with the man. And Halladay was even more lost in the barrage of scientific terms and ideas. The older cop’s only comment along the way was “In English, please,” and that didn’t help much, because Gunther’s way of simplifying was to point out that the term “neurological” came from a basic element of electricity called “neurons.” After that, Gunther steamrollered along in a lot of academese that amounted to incomprehensible gibberish in the ears of the two cops.
Jon did think he was able to decipher the basic idea, however, which was that the UV rays from the sun would mix with the otherwise harmless traces of radiation in the air, which had traveled there from the site of the flagger. This would produce an atmospheric ionization that would affect the way people’s brains worked (because they worked by electrical impulses involving the “neurons” he had mentioned). And the primary effects, as had been proven in the recent stretches of daylight, would be panic and aggression. So in one of his more lucid moments in the conversation, Jon asked if this effect would occur in anyone who breathed the air during the day, or only in those who were exposed to the sunlight. Gunther said the latter, because the ionization would dissipate quickly where there were no UV rays.
One of the reasons Jon didn’t follow the professor better might have been that he was distracted by the continuing sense that he’d seen the man somewhere since he’d come to Manhattan, which only increased the more time he spent in his presence. But Jon couldn’t place him, so he eventually gave up and moved on to the questions he really wanted to ask.
16
“I’d like to know more about the nature of your relationship with one another,” Jon said to both of them.
The two professors looked at each other, then Gunther said, “How so?”
“How would you describe it?”
“Professional admiration,” Carter offered after they looked at each other again.
“How about collaboration?”
“We read each other’s material, and we’ve talked about it, if that’s what you mean.” She shrugged. “But we’re in different fields.”
“But you’ve reached similar conclusions, which are unlike most other experts in your fields. Did you collaborate on that?”
Gunther and Carter didn’t look at each other this time, like they were trying not to, but just stared at Jon for a few moments as if considering how to answer.
“Where are you going with this, pardner?” Halladay asked.
Jon weighed whether to go all in with the big Scot, as he had been considering doing for some time, and this direct question tilted him that way. He also looked at his phone and noticed there were only seven hours left until Dayfall.
“I know what you’re doing,” Jon said to the two teachers, who both continued to look straight at him. “I know that Gar Render is paying you to create a panic about tomorrow.”
“Whoa … wow,” Halladay reacted.
“You need to admit it to the public now,” Jon continued. “Tell people not to worry, and save this city a lot of trouble.”
“Why would we do something like that, and put our careers at risk?” Carter said. And Gunther added, “Preposterous.”
“It’s a win-win situation for you,” Jon said. “If it happens to hit the fan like you say, you’ll be prophets. If it doesn’t—”
“I’ve had enough of this!” Gunther interrupted, lifting up his old briefcase to his lap as if he was about to leave.
“Shut up and let him talk,” Halladay growled.
When Gunther did shut up, the sandy-haired cop gestured to Jon.
“If it doesn’t happen,” Jon continued, “you can say your warnings prevented the problem. And either way you’ll be rich. And famous, which you’ve already become by making these predictions.”
“I won’t say it’s preposterous,” Carter said, looking sideways at Halladay as Gunther defiantly grunted. “But I can say it’s not true. What are you thinking Mr. Render would gain by paying us?”
“People here will clamor for more security, of course, and that’s what GS offers. ‘We will keep you safe’ is his motto, right? Render will win the referendum vote and take charge of the city.”
“But,” Carter started, her PhD brain at work, “the referendum is after the Dayfall. If what we predict doesn’t happen, we’ll be discredited and Mayor King will look good. There won’t be any need for people to vote for Mr. Render.”
Halladay looked at Jon, as if to say, That’s a good point … isn’t it?
“I don’t think you’ll be discredited,” Jon answered. “Because of how you can spin it. And I thought about the timing issue.… The vote was originally scheduled for earlier, when your artic
les started being published, and then it was postponed. At that point Render still wanted you to continue, because he wants the city to go to hell tomorrow.”
Jon sensed his partner shifting in his seat, but he pressed on anyway.
“Render wasn’t only relying on your propaganda to ensure panic in the city. Like any good builder, he’s been very thorough, even to the point of sending a killer into the city when the sun has appeared. And he’ll do the same tomorrow if we don’t stop him. That’s why you need to admit that he paid you, so we can expose him and stop the referendum. This is a bad man, one who should not be in charge of your city.”
“That’s all very interesting, though I find it hard to believe.” Carter said this without much hesitation. “But we can’t admit to something we didn’t do. We are not a part of your problem, or your case.”
“Preposterous,” Gunther said again, and thrust his middle finger at Halladay—rather awkwardly, like he didn’t do things like that very often.
“I think you should leave now,” Carter finished, “and find someone who actually knows something about your killer.”
Jon studied them for a moment, then said, “Okay, if you’re innocent, then you wouldn’t mind us looking at your bank accounts, credit cards, et cetera, right? Just to make sure you’re not making or spending an inordinate amount of money since your articles came out.”
“Fine with me,” Gunther said, surprisingly.
“Do you need our permission to do that?” Carter asked.
“If you don’t give us permission,” Jon said, “we’d have to get a subpoena from a judge.”
“Screw a subpoena,” Halladay said. “I don’t need one.”
“It would be a lot easier for us if you gave us permission,” Jon continued. “Then we could just check you out and clear you quickly. Just say it into my phone, and we’re gone.”
Jon turned his camera on and pointed it in the direction of Gunther, who only temporarily hesitated before giving his permission. But when he turned it toward Carter, she hesitated a lot longer and eventually said she needed to check on something and would get back to him with an answer. Jon gave her his number and told her to text him within an hour, or he would be forced to get the subpoena.
The two cops left the office and the building, and didn’t speak to one another until they were alone in the car.
“Okay,” Halladay said before he turned on the ignition. “Spill.”
“Does Gunther look familiar to you?” Jon asked.
“No. Can you just tell me what the hell is going on?”
“I’ll tell you everything when we have some more verification,” Jon said, “Head back to Madison Square. But in the meantime, did you think they were telling the truth?”
Halladay needed a moment to get over his frustration at Jon’s clandestineness, but only a moment because he actually didn’t care that much.
“I thought when you started accusing them,” the sandy-haired cop said, “the conversation took a slight but noticeable turn. Before that they seemed only mildly nervous, like anyone would be when talking to the cops. But then they got cagey when they could tell they were under suspicion in some way.”
“They still didn’t seem nervous enough to be guilty in the way I suspect,” Jon said.
“Or maybe they’re not that worried about being caught.”
Jon called the Gotham Security offices to find out where Gar Render was, so they could visit him again, but after several transfers was told by Gant that his boss was having dinner with his wife and daughter uptown. Jon said it was urgent and asked for his cell number; Gant said, “I’ll see if he can call you.”
“I thought that Marlowe guy always wanted to talk in person,” Halladay said.
“He did,” Jon said. “But we’re running short on time. Keep going past the Flatiron, to the part of the High Line where Shinsky disappeared.”
“Another hunch?” Halladay asked, and Jon nodded.
When they reached the High Line, Jon told Halladay to park underneath it near the locked door that seemed to provide access to the lower parts of the Water Wall.
“It keeps getting warmer outside,” Halladay said as they waited for a return call, and took off his coat. Then he pointed above them, to the underside of the elevated track platform. “The heaters for the grass up there aren’t even on anymore. They’re not humming like they usually do.”
“You’ve been here before?” Jon asked.
“Hmmm?” his partner said, looking around. “I don’t think so, not before today.”
“Then how did you know that about the heaters?”
Halladay cocked his head at Jon, as if to say, Why the suspicious questions? But all he said was, “I’ve lived in this city a long time.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Render called and Jon answered.
“What do you want, detective?” the Gotham Security boss said, obviously irritated. “I’m having dinner with my family.”
“Your company not only built the Water Wall,” Jon said, “but secured the subway tunnel system after the flooding started, right?”
“Yeah,” the older man responded. “Why?”
“Are your people able to move around down there, under the city, conduct operations?”
“Yeah, we did some engineering to prevent more flooding, and to travel underground if we needed to. We also built some rooms down there—we call ’em ‘Belows’—to use as posts just in case. We haven’t needed them much so far. This isn’t some big secret, though we don’t broadcast it. Why are you asking?”
“We want you to unlock a GS door for us along the Water Wall, below the High Line, and send us a map of the underground.”
“Why?”
“Because we have a suspect, and we think he might be hiding down there.”
“Why didn’t you ask Gant when you talked to him? He could have taken care of that.”
“Because I wanted you to be the only one who knows. And I wanted to see what you would say.”
“What the hell?” Render said, even more irritated now, but Jon just let the question hang in the air.
“Is the suspect a Gotham employee?” Render asked.
“Not officially. But he could be using your tunnels to move around and hide.”
“If he’s not our employee, then he would’ve had to steal a key, or find one that was lost, which isn’t likely.”
“Unless you hired him unofficially.”
“What?” Render asked. Jon couldn’t tell for sure over the phone, but the GS boss seemed to be genuinely perplexed. “Oh, right, your theory about me being involved in these crimes. I don’t know what else I can do but tell you I would never in a million years do something like that.”
“You can come down here yourself and open this door for us, and give us a map.”
“What would that prove?”
“It wouldn’t prove anything,” Jon said, “but it would help us to believe that you’re not involved.”
“How’s that?”
“If you make us get in some other way, and we can’t find the guy, then we’ll think maybe you warned him so he could get away. But if you come here yourself—”
“I hate to tell ya,” Render interrupted, “but that doesn’t prove anything. I could warn him on my way there. Look, I told you I want to cooperate in any way I can, and I want to know myself if someone is doing this, Gotham employee or not. It’s just that there are other good reasons for me not to drive over there right now, like I’m having dinner with my family. So let’s do this.… I’ll personally call one of my agents who’s in the area, tell him not to talk to anyone else, and have him open the door for you and search with you. I won’t even tell Gant, though he’ll be pissed when he finds out I didn’t.”
“Okay,” Jon said. “I guess that’s the best we can do right now. What about a map of the underground?”
“I’m sure the MPD already has one.”
“Would it have all of your modifications and
additions?”
“Probably not,” Render admitted. “So I’ll send you a link to ours, right to your phone. And if you find your guy, you’ll know I’m not involved in these murders.”
I already know you are, Jon thought.
17
DAYFALL MINUS 6 HOURS
The link to the map arrived almost immediately, and the agent Render had promised not long after. When Jon forwarded the map to Amira, she said that it would take a little while to adapt it for use on their phones, but Jon figured they could do without it right now because the man who arrived from GS would presumably know his way around down there.
Or woman. Jon couldn’t tell which it was until she introduced herself and said her name was Natalie, and was still a bit confused because the voice definitely seemed male. The shapes under her higher-level “Builder” uniform seemed rather ambiguous as well, and John had heard stories of how many ex-military men (especially Special Forces, for some reason) were transitioning after they completed their service. He had even read an article online about some controversial psychological theories suggesting why this was happening so often—one was that they had reached the pinnacle of masculinity and found it unsatisfying, and another was that they carried guilt from all the killing they did in their macho job and tried to escape it by creating an entirely different identity for themselves. But all that really mattered to Jon right now was that Natalie had the much-needed key, which turned out to be a thumb-sized cylinder attached to a flat square.
“It’s a magnetic code locking system,” she explained as she opened the door, when she saw Jon looking at the key. “No electronics were allowed because of the water threat, so the locks can’t be controlled remotely. You need one of these keys to get through any of the entrances to the underground, and to move around once you’re down there. And they are very carefully guarded, impossible to copy by anyone but us. That’s why it’s very unlikely that the person you’re looking for went in here.” She led Jon and Halladay inside. “But we’ll look anyway.”
Dayfall Page 11
