Solomon's Gold

CHAPTER 30

Stephanie sat down at her console and took out the picture she'd found in Miriam's apartment. She placed it on the console, along with the locket, the blank pad she'd taken from the drawer by Miriam's couch, and the slip of paper with the phone number written on it that she'd found in Miriam's jacket pocket.

"Hello, Freddie."

Hello, Stephanie. How are you today?

"I'm fine Freddie. How are you?"

I am always the same, Stephanie. Shall we play a game?

"Not right now, Freddie, but I do have a challenge for you."

Stephanie placed the photograph in a scanner.

"Tell me what you see."

Scanning.

Stephanie waited.

The picture is of an older couple.

"I know that, Freddie. You see the sign in the background, behind the two people?"

Of course, Stephanie.

"Can you read the writing on it?"

It is part of a phrase identifying the proprietor as a vendor of shoes. It is written in Farsi.

"Can you tell me where the shop is located?"

Processing.

As Freddie worked on her question, Stephanie looked at the blank pad, then set it down on the surface of the console. She wasn't sure why she'd taken it. Freddie's electronic voice interrupted her thoughts.

The shop is located in the city of Qom, near the intersection of Kargar Boulevard and 3 Khordad Street.

"That's fantastic, Freddie. Thank you."

Stephanie picked up the slip of paper with the phone number on it.

"I'm going to read off a phone number. I'd like to know whose phone it is."

She read the numbers. There was a brief pause.

The number is for the Falafel Palace on E. 98^th St. in New York City. We do take out and guarantee fresh ingredients daily. Come to the Falafel Palace for a genuine Middle Eastern experience.

Stephanie groaned. "Thank you, Freddie. That was very complete."

Would you like to hear the menu?

"No, that's fine, Freddie."

Would you like me to look up the number written on the pad in front of you?

Steph looked down at the blank pad in front of her. "What number?"

The number written on the pad in front of you.

"I don't see any number, Freddie."

That is because you do not have my scanning abilities, Stephanie. The number was written on the previous piece of paper on the pad. I am reading the impression left behind.

Steph couldn't be sure, but Freddie almost sounded smug.

"Yes, Freddie, I would like to know about this number. Please print it for me."

Processing.

The printer chattered and spit out a paper printed with a phone number.

The number is assigned to an unregistered cell phone. Would you like me to call it?

"No, Freddie, please do not call it. I need to speak with Elizabeth first."

Director Harker is in her office upstairs.

Steph got up. "I'm going up there now. Meanwhile, I'd like you to look into someone's history. Her records here in the United States will show her as a woman named Miriam Golding. However, I'm sure that's not her real name. It's possible that she's Iranian. That couple in the picture may be her parents or grandparents."

Stephanie told Freddie where Miriam had lived and worked in New York.

Processing.

Elizabeth was getting a cup from the coffee station when Stephanie came into her office.

"Want a cup?"

"Please."

Elizabeth poured a second cup and handed it over.

"Anything on what you found in New York?"

Elizabeth sat down behind her desk and blew on the coffee. Steam rose from the cup. Stephanie sat on the couch opposite.

"I ran everything by Freddie. Aside from liking falafel, Friedman's assistant was likely from Iran. The picture I found shows an older couple on a street in Qom. I think it must be a picture of her grandparents."

"Iranian. That figures. I talked with the deputy director of Shin Bet. One of the men who came after the team at Mount Karkom has been identified as a member of the Revolutionary Guard. It's a safe bet his friends were from the same club, and that Miriam was as well."

"That creates a problem, doesn't it?" Steph said. "Why would someone who hates everything Jewish be working in the Jewish Museum in New York?"

"Good question," Elizabeth said.

I can offer a possible answer.

The computer voice boomed from the speaker. Elizabeth jumped and spilled coffee on her skirt.

She wiped at the spill with a tissue. "Freddie, turn down the damn volume."

I apologize, Director.

"Freddie, I thought you were looking into Miriam's background?" Stephanie said.

I am. That requires only a small part of my processing capability. I believe I have identified the woman you know as Miriam Golding.

"That was fast. How were you able to do that?"

After the Shah was deposed and Khomenei consolidated power, all citizens of Iran were eventually photographed and entered into a national database. I searched their database and identified the people in the photograph as Hamid and Maryam Khorosani. They had a daughter named Nasrin. She married Masoud Farshid. The offspring of that union is a daughter named Ayala. The girl was noticed early on because of her intellect and was chosen for service to the state. Ayala Farshid and Miriam Golding are the same person.

"Very good," Elizabeth said. "Why do you think she was working at the Jewish Museum?"

There would be no advantage to placing an Iranian agent in the Jewish Museum unless it was for the purpose of obtaining information.

"What kind of information?"

She may have been gathering information about the upcoming Jewish World Conference in New York.

Elizabeth sat up straight in her chair. "That conference is a major event. The prime minister of Israel will be there. President Corrigan is going to address the conference and announce a new initiative for peace in the Middle East."

Alan Friedman was one of the principal organizers.

"That means Friedman knew all the details," Stephanie said. "Where the delegates will stay, the speaking schedule, everything. As his PA, Miriam would have known everything Friedman did. But why would she care?"

"There can only be one reason," Elizabeth said.

"Shit," Stephanie said. "They're planning an attack on the conference."

That is the logical conclusion, Freddie said.

"When does the conference take place?" Stephanie asked.

"Next week," Elizabeth said.

"Security has to be tight."

"Yes, but you and I both know there's always a way through a security cordon."

Elizabeth thought about the nightmare a terrorist attack on the conference would create.

"I don't think they'd be able to get a bomb in there. Not with the dogs and detectors," Stephanie said.

"Maybe not, but there are a lot of ways to make trouble."

"There's something else. I took what I thought was a blank notepad from Miriam's apartment. At the time I wasn't sure why, it just seemed the right thing to do. I had it on the console downstairs. Freddie saw a number on the pad."

My ability to scan on different frequencies is superior to human vision.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Yes, Freddie."

Stephanie, you made a movement of the eyes. I have observed this same movement in others. What is the meaning of the gesture?

"It's a little difficult to explain, Freddie. I'll talk with you about it later. For the moment, please do not interrupt."

Of course, Stephanie.

"Freddie says the number is for an unregistered cell phone," Steph said.

"A burner? Did you try and call it?"

"No. If Miriam was part of a terrorist cell, that number could lead us to it. Or at least someone who's in it."

"If I play this by the book, I should give the number and what we've learned to the FBI and let them run with it."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Stephanie asked. "President Corrigan has made it clear he's looking for a new director. The feds are in disarray right now. I don't think much is getting done over there. Langley might be a better choice."

"You're right, Langley's a better choice. I'll give Clarence a call."

"How are you two getting along?"

The question took Elizabeth by surprise.

"Well enough. As a matter of fact, we're thinking of taking a long weekend together, someplace warm."

"Elizabeth, that's great."

"Don't plan the engagement yet, Steph. It's early days."

"I still think it's great."

"Meanwhile, we need to see who's on the other end of that phone."

"I wish everyone was back," Steph said. "If we're right about an attack, they should be here."

"Nick thinks the Israelis are losing patience with him. I'd be surprised if they aren't back by the time the conference is scheduled."

"I hope we're wrong."

"So do I," Elizabeth said, "but we have to assume differently. I'm going to talk with Clarence and set up a meeting with the President."