The Hammer of Eden by Ken Follett Page A

married.” He laughed. The other men in the office looked up, interested.
    Shit, what’s this?
Priest said: “Now, where did you hear a thing like that?”
    “Saw you get out of a car outside Susan’s a while back. Then I had breakfast with the salesman that gave you a ride.”
    Damn, what did he tell you?
    Diana emerged from Lenny’s office with a key ring in her hand. Priest wanted to snatch it from her, but he pretended to be more interested in talking to Chew.
    Chew went on: “You know, Susan’s western omelet is really something.” He lifted his leg and farted, then looked up and saw the secretary standing in the doorway, listening. “ ’Scuse me, Diana. Anyhow, this youngster was saying how he picked you up out near the dump.”
    Hell!
    “You were walking in the desert alone at six-thirty, on account of how you quarreled with your wife and stopped the car and got out.” Chew looked around at the other men, making sure he had their attention. “Then she up and drove off and left you there!” He grinned broadly, and the others laughed.
    Priest stood up. He did not want people remembering that he was out near the dump on the day Mario disappeared. He needed to kill this talk dead. He put on a hurt look. “Well, Chew, I’m going to tell you something. If I ever happen to learn anything about your private affairs, specially something a little embarrassing, I promise I won’t shout about it all over the office. Now, what do you think of that?”
    Chew said: “Ain’t no call to get sensitive.”
    The other men looked shamefaced. No one wanted to talk about this anymore.
    There was an awkward silence. Priest did not want to exit in a bad atmosphere, so he said: “Hell, Chew, no hard feelings.”
    Chew shrugged. “No offense intended, Ricky.”
    The tension eased.
    Diana handed Priest the keys to the seismic vibrator.
    He closed his fist over the bunch. “Thank you,” he said, trying to keep the elation out of his voice. He could hardly wait to get out of there and sit behind the wheel. “Bye, everyone. See you in New Mexico.”
    “You drive safely, now, you hear?” Diana said as he reached the door.
    “Oh, I’ll do that,” Priest replied. “You can count on it.”
    He stepped outside. The sun was up, and the day was getting warmer. He resisted the temptation to do a victory dance around the truck. He climbed in and turned over the engine. He checked the gauges. Mario must have filled the tank last night. The truck was ready for the road.
    He could not keep the grin off his face as he pulled out of the yard.
    He drove out of town, moving up through the gears, and headed north, following the route Star had taken in the Honda.
    As he approached the turnoff for the dump, he began to feel strange. He imagined Mario at the side of the road, with gray brainsseeping out of the hole in his head. It was a stupid, superstitious thought, but he could not shake it. His stomach churned. For a moment he felt weak, too weak to drive. Then he pulled himself together.
    Mario was not the first man he had killed.
    Jack Kassner had been a cop, and he had robbed Priest’s mother.
    Priest’s mother had been a whore. She had been only thirteen years old when she gave birth to him. By the time Ricky was fifteen, she was working with three other women out of an apartment over a dirty bookstore on Seventh Street in the skid row neighborhood of downtown Los Angeles. Jack Kassner was a vice squad detective who came once a month for his shakedown money. He usually took a free blow job at the same time. One day he saw Priest’s mother getting the bribe money out of the box in the back room. That night the vice squad raided the apartment, and Kassner stole fifteen hundred dollars, which was a lot of money in the sixties. Priest’s mother did not mind doing a few days in the slammer, but she was heartbroken to lose all the money she had saved. Kassner told the women that if they complained, he would slap them with