“No, why do you ask?”
“Was I invited here for you to encourage me to go to Stockholm to accept the prize, or does this have something to do with what I learned last week?”
“What is that?”
“Bill Gray suggested this meeting with you. He’d driven all the way out to my place in Virginia to tell me he’s heard some chat, some inquiries about my background. Allegedly coming from somewhere in Israel. Does our meeting here today have overtures of that?”
“No, I assure you, it doesn’t.”
“Do you know more than I was told?”
“I don’t. Although, I’m glad you brought it up. Israel is one of our closest friends. They may have a competing Nobel laureate.” She grinned.
“I don’t think that’s it.”
“Oh, why?”
“I got a call from a man who identified himself as Professor Jacob Kogen. He called me from Jerusalem. He’s a mathematician at a university there. He said he’d recently received some lost papers apparently from a private collection.”
“Lost papers? What kind of papers?”
“From Isaac Newton.”
“The Isaac Newton, the long dead scientist?” She smiled, head tilting.
“The same. Kogen said he had other papers from Newton, and he’s convinced that Newton was trying to decipher something concealed in the Bible.”
“What do you mean, concealed?”
“He said some kind of biblical prophecies.”
“I can see how that would interest Israel or any nation, for that matter.”
“Kogen asked me to help him.”
“How?”
“To look at the Newton papers to see if I might find some clue, some way to decode whatever it was that Newton was trying to find.”
“What was he trying to find?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Then you don’t know if he found it.” The Secretary of State held his gaze. “Will you accept his invitation?”
“I don’t know.”
“Paul, if you do find something that’s hidden in the Bible, something of interest to Israel or any nation in the Middle East, I hope you would tell us.”
“At this point, I have no reason not to.”
“Good, then we wouldn’t have a reason to be suspect of this situation.”
TEN
Marcus left the State Department, stepping into bright sunshine and the cavernous blue skies of October in Washington, D.C. He walked down the street, entered a parking garage and headed to the elevator. There was the sound of a car door shutting and hard heels coming from behind a row of cars. “Paul Marcus, it is you.”
Alicia Quincy pulled her purse strap onto her shoulder and smiled. She walked toward Marcus. Her dark hair was pinned up, pearl earrings and matching pearl necklace accentuating her long, slender neck. She had full lips and dark eyebrows that arched with her wide smile. “How have you been? I mean, I haven’t seen you since the funerals.” Her voice dropped an octave, smile melting. “I’m sorry. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. It’s good to see you, Alicia. Are you still at NSA?”
“Starting my tenth year in November. I heard you left Hughes-Johnson not long after—” She gripped the purse strap, knuckles white. “Not long after the funerals.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“I read a story on the Post’s website about you turning down the Nobel Prize. That takes conviction, especially after the president’s nominated for the Peace Prize.”
“It seems to have evolved into something political, and I never meant it to be.”
“In this town, everything’s political.”
Marcus paused and studied her sapphire blue eyes for a moment. “It’s really coincidental, you know?”
“What is?”
“The two of us right here…running into you in this parking lot. It was just a couple of days ago when Bill Gray, your boss, stopped by my farm. Now you’re in a parking garage. What are the odds? What would the numbers say?”
Marcus could see confusion move over her face. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch. I didn’t know Bill went to see you. Can I ask what it’s about?”
Marcus held a steady, unblinking gaze on her eyes for a few seconds. “It’s about some inquires someone’s been making concerning me.”
“I’m not familiar with this. What inquiries and who’s making them?”
“Gray says Israel, probably the Mossad. But it’s never only one intel agency. The ears and eyes are everywhere. You know that. If they’re asking stuff, others are listening.”
“That’s odd. Is it in some way related to the Nobel Prize thing?”
“Funny, because that’s just what the Secretary of State asked me today.”
“You were there?”
“Secretary Hanover was specific in asking me to reconsider the Nobel award. I think Israel, ostensibly the Mossad, is more interested in checking me out because a professor at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem wants me to examine some documents.”
“What kind of documents?”
“He says they’re from Isaac Newton. Some papers apparently lost for a couple centuries. They were found and delivered to the university. The professor says Newton wrote my name in the margin before his death.”
“Your name? Centuries before your birth?” Alicia smiled, her hand relaxing on the purse strap. “Newton the scientist is Newton the prophet? Come on.”
Marcus blew out a breath. “Yeah, that’s what I thought — a bit too farfetched. This guy, a professor of physics, was insistent. He says Newton spent the majority of his life trying to decipher codes in the Bible, trying to come to terms with…” Marcus paused, his eyes following a piece of paper blowing across the floor of the garage. “This professor wants me to come to Jerusalem and see if I can pick up where Newton left off. Maybe see how close the world’s greatest scientist came to unlocking the secrets of the Bible like he unlocked some of the universe. It may be a wild goose chase, but…”
Alicia’s eyes filled with animation. “But, what?”
“Nothing.”
“This is exciting. Where did Newton leave off? What did he find? What was he searching for? You’re talking about a legendary scientist doing biblical research. I’ve never heard about that side of Newton. Lost papers now are showing up on the steps of a noted research university, and you getting an invitation to look at possible biblical coding. Wonder what you might find?”
“Nothing, because I’m not going.”
“Why? You were so good with encryption, so good at being able to look at the big picture, the whole of something, and then see how components might be used to communicate a message. Maybe there’s something in these Newton notes. Aren’t you just a little curious, Paul? I would be.”
Marcus felt his jaw line tighten, his scalp stretch, a vein behind his left eye pulse. “I’m curious, and I’m anxious, too. Look, I have to get back to the horses. It was good seeing you, Alicia.” He walked toward the elevator and pressed the button. As the doors opened, he turned toward her. “I hope it was coincidental. Give Bill Gray my regards.”
Alicia stood there a moment while the elevator doors closed behind him. She looked down at the tips of her painted toenails protruding through the opening in her shoes, then blew out a long breath and turned to walk away.
Marcus exited off the I-66 freeway and followed the Mill Road toward his home. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw a black Ford Explorer in the distance. He eased his foot off the gas pedal and slowed without touching the brakes. The driver in the Ford seemed to maintain an equal distance.
Marcus caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He came to a quick stop. Two deer darted across the road, their white tails raised like caution flags, instantly absorbed into the sea of autumn leaves. Marcus accelerated, but still giving the driver in the Explorer time to come closer. He could see that the driver wore dark glasses, white windbreaker and drove with one hand. His other hand held a phone.