Fringe - the Zodiac Paradox by Christa Faust Read Free Book Online Page B

sketch, all the color drained from his face.
    “I guess you could say there are... similarities in certain features,” he said.
    “Similarities? It’s him, Belly. You know it’s him.”
    Bell looked up at Walter, his expression grave.
    “If he is real,” he said, “then what is he? He seemed... so human.”
    “Human, yes,” Walter replied. “But... different in some way.”
    “In what way?” Bell asked.
    “I remember that strange glow,” Walter said. “Like sparks in the palms of his hands. Almost as if there was some kind of unknown process disrupting the very atoms of his flesh.”
    “Maybe he’s a time traveler from a future that’s been poisoned by atomic warfare,” Bell suggested.
    Without skipping a beat, Walter responded.
    “Or perhaps some kind of pan-dimensional being who only adopts a human form in order to facilitate contact with the people of Earth,” Walter said. “Maybe that glow is his true form showing through the artificial skin.”
    Bell tapped the article.
    “But why would a pan-dimensional being want to shoot people with a normal gun?”
    “It’s so much worse than that,” Walter replied. “This man publicly threatened to shoot senior citizens on a city bus. Just like in our vision. He hasn’t made good on that threat yet, but in the vision, the bus shooting took place on September 21st, 1974.” He paused, gripping Bell’s sleeve. “Belly, that’s tomorrow!”
    “My God,” Bell said, looking disoriented. “What are we going to do?”
    “That’s obvious,” Walter replied. “We have to find a way to stop him.”

2
    The Doe library at U.C. Berkley was the kind of place where Walter could happily spend the rest of his life, under different, more peaceful circumstances. Built in the early nineteen hundreds, it was a large, stately building fronted by classic Doric columns and decorated with richly patinated copper trim. Several large rectangular skylights were embedded in the red tiled roof.
    Walter took the stone steps two at a time, huffing and breathless as he pushed through the door. Bell was close behind.
    Inside it was tranquil and beautiful. He was immediately attracted to a large, airy room with a curved, tiled ceiling and large arched windows. Leaded glass skylights filled the chamber with gentle natural light and each of the dozens of sturdy wooden tables had its own wrought-iron reading light. Tall shelves packed with colorful volumes lined the walls, beckoning Walter with their intriguing titles and vast cornucopia of knowledge. The smell of foxed paper and wood polish was seductive, and made him wish he was there for any other reason.
    The librarian at the main desk was one of the tallest women he had ever met, a little over six feet and standing eye to eye with Bell in her flat, sensible shoes. She was in her late fifties, with a stiffly lacquered poodle haircut that likely hadn’t changed in twenty years. On the left lapel of her modestly cut blouse she wore a red Bakelite brooch in the shape of a key, and a name badge on the right that labeled her as Mrs. Alder.
    Her face was wide and plain, but her green eyes sparkled with intelligence and wit.
    “How can I help you gentlemen?” she asked.
    “We’re looking for information on the so-called Zodiac Killer,” Walter told her.
    “Ah, yes,” she said with a knowing nod. “Popular topic these days.” She indicated a stairwell off to the right. “Newspaper archive is in the basement, at the end of the hallway on the left.”
    “Thank you,” Walter said.
    “Do you think they’ll ever catch him?” she asked.
    Walter and Bell exchanged a look.
    “Good God, I hope so,” Walter replied.
    * * *
    The newspaper archive boasted a lot of carefully preserved newspapers, but it was primarily devoted to floor-to-ceiling shelves of microfilm. Where the upper areas of the library were quaint and old-fashioned, evoking images of turn of the century scholars in waistcoats and wire-rim glasses, the archive room