Three decades later, another one of his stories proved to be prophetic.
In ‘Beyond the Spectrum’, a short story he published in 1914, Robertson described a future war between the United States and Japan that resembled the actual events of Pearl Harbor in 1941. Instead of declaring war on its rival, Japan launched a sneak attack on American ships heading to Hawaii. The hero of the story managed to stop the advancing forces by using an ultraviolet searchlight that blinded the Japanese crews. The devastating effects of the searchlight — intense heat, skin blisters, blindness — resembled the injuries caused by the atomic bombs dropped on Japan in 1945, weapons that ultimately ended their war.
Once again, the similarities between fact and fiction weren’t perfect, but they were close enough for Dubois to pay attention.
16
The Payne Industries Building sits atop Mount Washington, high above the city of Pittsburgh. According to USA Today, it is the second most beautiful place in America, only behind Red Rock Country in Sedona, Arizona. From his office window, Jones could see the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers flowing together to form the Ohio. The confluence of the three rivers defined the Golden Triangle, the name given to the business district, where dozens of skyscrapers glowed in the night-time sky. More than fifteen bridges, lined with a dazzling assortment of holiday lights, twinkled above the waterways, turning the colour of the icy rivers from white to red to green.
On a clear night, PNC Park and Heinz Field, two of the most scenic ballparks in the country, were visible across the rivers on the North Shore. A revitalized section of the city, it featured the Carnegie Science Center, complete with a World War Two submarine (USS Requin) docked along the water’s edge, and the newly opened Rivers Casino. But thanks to the blizzard, Jones struggled to see the city itself, let alone the buildings on the opposite shore.
A beep from his antique desk snapped him out of his daydream.
Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, he turned from the window and walked towards his computer. A message on his screen informed him that his search was complete, and no matching entries had been found. Grumbling to himself, Jones sat down in his leather executive chair and clicked his mouse. He had been fishing for clues ever since he had left Ashley’s car. Meanwhile, Payne had returned to the Cathedral to apologize to his guests and explain what had happened.
Three hours later, Payne finally made it to Mount Washington.
‘Knock, knock,’ he said as he walked into Jones’s office.
Jones barely glanced up from his computer. ‘It’s about time.’
Still wearing his tuxedo, Payne collapsed in the chair across from Jones. ‘Sorry about that. Lots of people to see, lots of asses to kiss.’
‘How’d it go?’
‘Much better than I’d expected. The cops barged in, looking for potential witnesses, and they happened to mention that I chased an armed gunman across campus, potentially saving hundreds of lives. After that, everyone wanted to shake my hand and give me a cheque.’
‘Did you say hundreds?’
‘Hey, the cops exaggerated, not me.’
Jones rolled his eyes. ‘Let me guess, my name didn’t come up once.’
‘Not true,’ Payne assured him. ‘I told everyone you helped.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep! Working as a janitor at Heinz Chapel.’
‘You’re such an asshole.’
‘By the way, I have a message from Sam. He wanted me to tell you, six o’clock sharp. Whatever the hell that means.’
He growled softly. ‘I already burned his jumpsuit. I’ll send him the ashes tomorrow.’
‘Speaking of clothes, what’d you find in Ashley’s bag?’
Jones pointed to the far side of the room where the contents were spread out on a glass table. Payne walked over and examined them. Unfortunately, nothing stood out. There was a change of clothes, an overnight kit filled with toiletries, and an unzipped leather portfolio.
‘Not much to work with, huh?’
Jones shook his head. ‘No computer, no wallet, no weapons.’
‘No wallet? How’d she rent her car?’
‘Beats me.’
‘Any ID?’
‘I was working on that when you came in.’ He grabbed a sealed plastic bag from his desk and dangled it in the air. Inside was a single US passport, already opened to the photo page. ‘According to this, her full name was Ashley Marie Duvall.’
‘Ashley was her real name?’
‘Kind of.’
‘What does that mean?’
Jones leaned back in his chair. ‘I ran that name through the State Department computer and got zero hits. It isn’t in their database.’
‘Her passport was fake?’
‘Yep, a damn good one. I couldn’t spot any flaws.’
Payne walked across the room and snatched the bag from Jones’s hand. When he did, a fine layer of powder settled on the interior of the plastic. ‘You dusted for prints?’
‘Of course I dusted for prints. I had three hours to kill.’
‘And?’
‘I got two thumbs and several partials. I ran them through IAFIS and got lucky.’
IAFIS stood for Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, a national fingerprint and criminal-history database that was maintained by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and intended for law-enforcement agencies, not the private sector. But thanks to his connections at the Pentagon, Jones had full access to the system.
Payne sat down. ‘How lucky?’
‘Very lucky. Our girl had a record.’
‘For what?’
‘She was a lifelong thief.’ Jones held up a threepage printout, then handed it to Payne. ‘Her real name was Ashley Henderson. Born and raised in Camden, New Jersey, she was first arrested at thirteen and had been in and out of juvenile homes until eighteen. On the bright side, her last known address was in Philadelphia, so she didn’t lie about everything.’
‘See,’ Payne joked, ‘there’s a little good in all of us.’
Glancing at the document, Payne focused on the driver’s licence photo on the first page. It was definitely the woman they had met earlier, the victim who had been killed at Heinz Chapel. Ashley the teacher was Ashley the criminal. No doubt about it. Of course, some major questions still remained in Payne’s mind. Why did she travel across the state to meet with them? What was her motivation? Obviously, she was trying to con them out of something, but what was her endgame? Was she looking for money? Was she looking for a thrill? And why was she gunned down in cold blood on the Pitt campus?
The last question was the one that worried him the most.
‘Any thoughts on her murder?’ Payne asked.
‘Anytime you’re dealing with a criminal, there’s always a chance she pissed off the wrong person. But considering tonight’s circumstances, I’m not sure that was the case.’
‘What circumstances?’
‘Not only was she murdered, it happened three hundred miles from home. That’s a long way to give chase if someone had a problem with her in Philly.’
‘Good point.’
‘Furthermore, I ran down her travel arrangements. She flew in this afternoon, under the name Ashley Duvall, and booked a return flight for tomorrow. Her tickets were purchased online within the last twenty-four hours, meaning her killer didn’t have much time to set things up. If her trip had been planned weeks in advance, he would’ve had time to scout things out, but less than a day? That seems unlikely. Especially in this weather. To me, it seems more and more likely that this guy was after us, not her.’