Spider - Michael Morley [22]
‘No, not too standard,’ said Jack. ‘It’s just something I do sometimes to open people up. Actually, it works well on suspects, throws them off guard and gives you an insight into them before you start asking offence-related questions.’
‘Was there anything else?’ asked Orsetta, waving a hand across her face to mask the redness. ‘Or can I relax now?’
‘Well,’ said Jack, unable to stop himself, ‘based on what you’ve told me, I’d guess you’re also obstinate, headstrong, self-centred, adventurous and very driven.’
‘I am what?’
‘You mentioned that there was a path in the woods – that path represents the route of your life, the one your parents, your upbringing and your education have laid out for you. But you deliberately chose not to take it – you said you were “wandering away”. This means you want things on your own terms, or not at all.’
Orsetta felt completely exposed. Her Myers Briggs game had been meant as an ice-breaker, a bit of flirtatious fun, but this was something else. Her eyes fell on the book that Jack had bought and she saw it as a chance to gain respite from his scrutiny. ‘Aah, Dante,’ she said. ‘The Divine Comedy is one of my favourites.’
‘For my wife,’ he said, quickly and deliberately.
Orsetta found herself blushing again. For a second she’d forgotten he was married.
‘It’s a good choice, I hope she likes it,’ she said, as pleasantly as she could manage.
There was silence, agonizingly awkward for Orsetta if not for Jack, who found silences every bit as informative as most people’s conversations. Finally Orsetta cracked. ‘Okay, let’s finish it, she said; bravely. ‘Tell me, Jack, you have to tell me the rest of your analysis.’
He looked across at her. The smart policewoman with the movie-star looks now seemed like a lost schoolgirl. All the sexual chemistry had drained from the room and the air was as unexcitingly stale as a deserted bar-room on a Monday morning.
‘Commitment,’ he said softly. ‘The bear in your story represents the man who hurt you, the problem that creeps up on you when you’re happy and you least expect it.’
Orsetta looked down at her hands. So there it was, out in the open. She’d hidden it away, piled all kinds of stuff on top of it, and this stranger, this brilliant stranger, had found it without breaking sweat. ‘And I have to find another way of dealing with this, other than simply hitting it with a log?’ She looked up and managed a smile but Jack could see that the gesture alone had taken all her courage.
‘No. Using the log is fine. Beat away all you like; give the bear your best body-blows. But you’ve gotta learn not to run away afterwards. Staying there, looking the bear in the eyes and sorting out your terms of peace, that’s what commitment’s all about.’
She nodded, and without even realizing it found herself squeezing his hand, comforting herself with his strength and his closeness.
The knock on the door surprised both of them and broke the silence, a silence that this time felt far more intriguing than awkward.
‘Food!’ said Jack. ‘Great, I’m starving.’
16
FBI Field Office, New York
Not since he’d discovered that his sister was a lesbian had Special Agent Howie Baumguard been so stunned and speechless.
The air-con in his office had broken down – again – and it was now steam-room hot. He rubbed sweat from his creased brow with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand while he tried to work out what to do next.
Howie clicked the mouse on his desk pad and dragged the image that had just been sent through to his flat screen. ‘God damn it! God damn it!’ he shouted to an empty office.
He flipped the picture 180 degrees one way, and then rotated it back the other way. He changed the colour several times, examined it upside down and back to front. ‘Jesus H. Christ!’ he swore again at the empty room.
Howie quarter-framed the image and docked it in the top left-hand corner of his screen, then maximized another two shrunken