The Tree of Knowledge, Daniel Miller [unputdownable books txt] 📗

whether one hundred and fifty-five different legislators of different political parties agree.”

At this, the crowd once again erupted in hypnotic support.

“And that is why I ask that on November 4, you don’t just vote for me for governor, but vote to temporarily suspend the legislature so that I can do what it takes to make sure all of us realize the dream that’s within our reach.

“I believe that we can make California the beacon of hope for America, and the world.”

As the sea of red exploded in ecstasy, Turner returned to his living room with a stack of old papers in his hand to find Ying staring transfixed, her face inches from the TV screen.

“Ying, I’ve found some materials that we should review,” he said excitedly.

Ying continued to watch Cristina Culebra as she came to the crescendo of her speech. Was this what she had been looking for?

“I believe that California can be the model of what a society can be.”

“Ms. Koh, will you turn that off, please, so that we can get to work,” Turner said with increased urgency and irritation.

Ying heard his words but didn’t process them. The charismatic woman on the screen had her transfixed.

“I believe that California can be that magical place where every child receives a world-class education and unrelenting opportunity!”

Suddenly, Turner stormed over to the television, slammed on the power button, and shouted, “Turn that damn thing off!”

Ying snapped back as though being awakened from a trance. She blinked and looked up at the professor’s face in shock. His cheeks were red, his fists clenched, and his eyes squinted in frustration.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, Professor Turner. I just turned on the TV to see if the murder was in the news and got kind of wrapped up in that speech.”

“Yes, I know,” Turner grunted as he moved away from Ying and toward the coffee table. “Ms. Culebra tends to have that effect on people.”

“She’s running for governor of California?”

Turner began to arrange the papers on the coffee table, his hands showing a faint tremble. “Yes.”

“Do you think she’ll win?”

“I’m afraid so,” Turner mumbled as he put on his glasses and looked over his materials.

Ying let out a short laugh of disbelief. “You don’t like her? She seemed pretty impressive to me. I mean, you have to admit that what she was saying has a lot of truth. Government in the US is kind of pathetic. One of the things that I miss about Singapore is how well everything works. This is something I could get excited about.”

“Yes, but that comes at a cost. If you speak out against the government in your beloved Singapore, you might get sued, caned, or imprisoned.”

“But that’s limited to people who agitate against the government, like Communists,” said Ying dismissively. “If you’re a normal person, everything is better. The train system is clean and on time. The streets are perfectly paved. Housing and health care are cheap and plentiful. And all of that’s because Lee Kuan Yew came in, took charge, and looked out for the people. I never could have come to America to study if it weren’t for him. Maybe Cristina Culebra can do the same thing for California.”

Turner glanced at Ying and rolled his eyes. “Believe me, she won’t.” He waved her over to the sofa. “Now, enough about Cristina Culebra. Come over here and look at this. Class is in session.”

Chapter 14

“Hello, Eva,” said Albert sternly as he met the eyes of the girl for whom he had felt so much.

He assessed her face. It had not lost its mesmerizing power. Her dark-brown, almost black, eyes still gleamed like onyx. The light freckles around her cheeks softened her raw beauty, and her hair still cascaded perfectly around her face. Yet, despite all the similarities to the girl he had known, Albert realized that something was different. Her eyes that once danced with hope and imagination were now controlled and cynical; her once-joyful smile was now a cold, arrogant sneer. Albert found it both unnerving and attracting, like an electrical storm.

“Hello, Dilbert,” she said with a seductive smirk, the old nickname bringing back memories of his college days, and his affection for the shy and brilliant teenager.

Albert wanted to let go and sink into that past—it was wonderful seeing her face again, even changed as it was—but he couldn’t forget the picture of the dead security guard that Detective Weatherspoon had showed him.

“How could you do it?” he asked hoarsely.

Eva looked down, and for a moment, Albert thought he saw real regret, but as she tilted her head up, it vanished. “Ahh, you cracked the cipher. I knew you would, but I was hoping you and your chubby little girlfriend would take a bit longer to solve it.”

“She’s not chubby, and she’s not my girlfriend,” Albert blurted out, surprising himself with his anger and spontaneity.

Eva raised a hand to calm him. “I was just teasing. I’m sure she’s a great girl.”

“She’s my graduate assistant and—” Albert stopped, shook his head, and looked up at the sky in frustration. He noticed the clouds crashing together on the back of a growing wind.

How is she doing this? Why is she getting to me so much?

“Relax, Dilbert,” said Eva. She lovingly brushed the chest of Albert’s suit coat and picked off some of the lint and hairs on his shoulder. “I didn’t come here to talk about you and your personal life. I came here to set the record straight.”

Albert nodded, trying to slow his heartbeat and flush the red from his face. “OK.”

“I want you to know that I never intended for that security guard to die. I’m sure you noticed that when you cracked the cipher. I was trying to pacify him. He had a weak heart and it couldn’t take the strain.”

“OK. Fine. But what the hell were you doing sedating a security guard and robbing a bank?”

Eva began pacing. “As you know, my family is in the security and defense