Harold Robbins Thriller Collection

by Harold Robbins

  “You know guns?”

  “I was a retired cop, wandering around with no purpose in life, until I met Reverend Sam and got religion. Now it’s all worthwhile again.” He looked at me. “Do you believe in God?”

  I met his gaze. “Not really.”

  A faint sorrow tinged his voice. “Too bad. You’re missing out on something good.”

  I didn’t answer.

  He looked at his watch. “It’s almost five. I’d better get you to your room before reveille or you’ll never get any sleep. When you wake up, look for me. I’ll be around.”

  It was past three thirty in the afternoon when I awakened. My own clothes were gone. A checked woolen lumberjack shirt and a pair of Levi’s similar to those worn by Brother Jonathan were draped over a chair. Barefoot, I went into the bathroom and stepped under the shower. There was no hot water and the cold really woke me up. I came out with chattering teeth, rubbing myself vigorously with the rough towel. I had just put on the jeans when the door opened.

  Denise came in, smiling. “You’re awake already?”

  I nodded.

  “I was in about an hour ago. You were still asleep. Brother Jonathan sent this razor for you and an eyebrow pencil.”

  I still didn’t speak.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not talking.”

  “There’s nothing to say.” I took the razor and pencil from her and went back to the bathroom. She came to the door and watched me shave. I saw her face in the mirror. “Your black eye isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “Makeup,” she said. “It’s horrible.” She came toward me. “You want me to do your eyebrows?”

  I nodded. I followed her into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. She stood in front of me and began to brush the pencil lightly across my brow. I felt the warmth of her and put my hands on her waist. “Why didn’t you bring us to this room?”

  She paused and looked down into my face. “I was beginning to feel afraid that you would never make love to me, that you thought I was too much of a child.”

  “Are you like that with everyone you want?”

  “I never felt like that about anyone else.”

  “Why me?”

  She moistened the pencil with her tongue and continued brushing. “I don’t know. But every time I’m near you I get so turned on I’m soaking wet.”

  “Even now?”

  She nodded. “Do you think I’m terrible?”

  “No. I just don’t understand, that’s all.”

  “Then maybe you never really loved anybody.” She put the pencil down. “I think we’ve done it. Go look in the mirror.”

  “We’ve done it,” I said, staring at my strange reflection.

  “Brother Jonathan would like you to join him at the fifth-plane meeting this afternoon.”

  “When is that?”

  “Four o’clock.”

  “How long does it last? I have to call Lonergan at six.”

  “About an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  She smiled suddenly. “I’m glad. Now let me get you something to eat. Then we’ll go to the meeting together.”

  The windowless room was no more than fourteen feet square with a high, beamed ceiling sloping from a central ridge. Six others—three men and three women—were already in the room when we got there. They were seated in pairs, each pair facing a wall on which there was a tall wooden bas-relief of Christ on the cross. The only light came from altar candles in front of each carving.

  Following Denise’s example, I took off my shoes outside the door, then went to a spot opposite the far wall and sat down with her on the bare floor. No one looked at us. A moment later I heard a sound at the door. I peeked over my shoulder. It was Brother Jonathan. He was barefoot and wearing a brown cassock that reached his ankles. Silently he closed and locked the door, then crossed to the center of the room and sank to the floor beneath the apex of the ceiling. There was a moment’s silence; then he began speaking.

  “Two thousand years ago He walked among us. A man among men. But He was also the Son of God and He came to this earth to expiate our sins and free us of our fears. And it was for our sins and because of our fears that He gave His life on the cross. His tomb was in a small pyramid which had been built by the Jews in their flight from Egypt many thousands of years before. And it was through the apex of this pyramid that God returned life to His only Son and so Jesus arose from His grave, bringing us this message: ‘I have died for you so that you may have the gift of eternal life with me. Give unto me your sins and your faith and you will be with me forever in the kingdom of heaven.’”

  There was a soft chorus of “Amens.” Then Brother Jonathan spoke again. “Since that time man has attempted to climb the steps of the pyramid to heaven, but he has fallen by the wayside because of his own weaknesses. It was not until Reverend Sam discovered the Principle of the Seven Planes that the truth became evident. Man could not reach God until he had rid himself of the seven deadly sins—pride, covetousness, lust, anger, gluttony, envy and sloth. The more sins a man has, the lower the level of his existence and the farther his distance from God; the less he has, the higher the level of his existence, the closer he is to God. And it is only from the highest level that man can climb to the apex of the pyramid and stand in God’s pure light. Reverend Sam has shown us that this goal is within reach of all of us. He reaches down to raise us up into God’s pure light. May he continue to shine with God’s blessing. Praise the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

  There was a faint rustle of movement, another chorus of “Amens,” then silence.

  Brother Jonathan’s voice was gentle. “All of us come here standing on the fifth plane of the stairway to heaven. There are still five planes to climb before you can reach for the pure light of the apex. We will begin by confessing to ourselves and each other the sin that troubles us most. Who will be the first to confess?”

  Denise’s voice broke the momentary silence. “I will, Brother.”

  “And the sin you confess, Sister?”

  I glanced around the room. No one had turned to look at her. They all sat quietly, hands clasped in their laps, their eyes on the cross in front of them. Denise, too, was focusing on the crucifix.

  “I confess to the sin of lust, Brother.”

  She closed her eyes and spoke in a hushed voice. “Several weeks ago I met a man. Since I met this man, my body has been on fire, my mind filled with lustful images and desire. When I think of him, my legs become weak and my sex overflows. I lie in bed and masturbate, his image constantly in my mind. In my lust for him I have lain with other men and used their bodies to assuage the desire in my own. Now that I have lain with him I am still not satisfied. My lust for him continues unabated. My only thoughts are of sex. Fornication, fellatio, cunnilingus, sodomy. I am a slave to my lust, unable to think of anything else.”

  Her voice faded away and she bowed her head. I could see that she was weeping. After a moment she added in a small voice, “I confess to my sin and pray to God for His guidance.”

  “We will join in a moment of prayer with our sister,” Brother Jonathan said. For a moment there was the hushed murmur of voices; then Brother Jonathan spoke again. “In the eyes of God there is only love, Sister, and love takes many forms, love of the body as well as of the spirit. There are times that there is no other way to express this love except with the body. Examine your heart carefully, Sister. Is it possible that you truly love this man?”

  Her voice was low. “I don’t know, Brother. Until now all that I have felt has been physical. I know that he does not desire me as much as I desire him, but that does not dampen my desire. Even now, as I speak of it, my sex overflows and I am burning with desire.”

  “Are you ready to communicate these desires to the kinetic conductor?”

  “Yes, Brother.”

  “Then come to me, Sister.”

  Denise rose to her feet slowly, her e
yes half closed as if she were almost asleep. She turned and moved toward Brother Jonathan, unbuttoning her shirt as she walked. When she reached him, she took off her shirt and a moment later her jeans. Then she lay down naked in front of him.

  “Sister Mary and Sister Jean will take Sister Denise’s hands and feet. The others will turn toward us and join in our prayers.”

  Two of the girls rose and went to Denise. Each of them kissed her on the mouth. Then one sat cross-legged at her head, holding her hands; the other sat at her feet, holding her ankles. I glanced at the others. Their faces were thoughtful, not curious. Apparently this was something they had all been through before.

  Brother Jonathan moved and next to him I saw what looked like a small transformer. In his hand he was holding something that resembled a glass wand a little less than a foot long. A black cable ran from the wand to the transformer, which he was now adjusting. There was a crackle, then a spark of blue light in the wand. A moment later there was a faint odor of ozone in the air. The light in the wand grew steady and cast a strange pale color over their faces. The crackling sound was somewhat louder.

  Brother Jonathan held the wand high over his head. “O Lord! In the name of thy son, Jesus Christ, I beg of you. Listen to the communication of our sister in sin as she speaks to you through the force of the energy with which you give us life.”

  “Amen.” The chorus of voices was stronger now.

  Brother Jonathan brought the wand down slowly. Denise’s eyes were closed; she didn’t move. “Are you ready, Sister?”

  “I am ready, Brother,” she whispered.

  He touched her right arm with the wand. The crackling noise increased, her arm twitched for a moment, but then she was still. Slowly he traced her arm to the shoulder, then her other arm. It wasn’t until the wand began to approach her breasts that she started to move. Squirming slightly, at first, then thrusting her body up toward the wand almost orgasmically. Finally, she began to moan and I knew what she was feeling. I had heard the same moans coming from her last night while we were in bed.

  The nipples burst forth as the wand touched her breasts, and she was thrashing around wildly. Now I knew why the two girls were there. If it weren’t for them, there would have been no way to hold her down.

  “Oh, God!” she screamed. “I’m beginning to come. I can’t stop it! I’m coming, I’m coming!” The wand was moving across her stomach now and she was thrusting her hips up at it as if it were a live force. “I can’t stop coming!” she cried. It was at her pubis now. “Stick it in me!” she yelled. “Fuck me with it! I want it to burn out my cunt!”

  Brother Jonathan’s face was impassive as he held the wand over her pubis. She kept turning and thrusting and screaming.

  “Oh, God, I can’t stop! I can’t stop!” Her face was contorted in agony as she threw her head from side to side. “I’m coming! Jesus! It’s too much! It’s too much!” Suddenly she arched herself spastically against the wand. “Oh, no! Everything inside me is exploding!” Her voice turned into a high-pitched scream; then suddenly she slumped back, her face pale, her eyes closed.

  Silently Brother Jonathan moved the wand down her legs until he reached her feet. Then he touched the transformer. Slowly the light faded from the wand and he put it down. She lay quietly. The only sound in the room was that of our breathing.

  Brother Jonathan looked at the two girls and they went back to their places in the circle.

  Denise opened her eyes. “Is it over?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Do you need help to your room?”

  She sat up, reaching for her shirt. “I think I’m all right.” He held out a steadying hand as she put on her jeans. “Thank you, Brother Jonathan,” she said. “And thank you, Brothers and Sisters. I love you all.”

  “We love you, Sister,” they chorused.

  Brother Jonathan rose to his feet and placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her mouth. “Remember, Sister, the body is nothing but flesh. It is the soul that gives it life and love that fuses the two.”

  She nodded, then turned and, without looking at me, quietly let herself out of the room.

  Brother Jonathan regarded me with sympathetic eyes. “Thank you, Brothers and Sisters. The meeting is ended. Peace and love.”

  “Peace and love,” they answered and began to file out.

  I rose to my feet and waited until the others had left. Brother Jonathan knelt beside the transformer and placed a cover over it. “Does that thing really work?”

  “Moses spoke to God through a burning bush.”

  “This isn’t the same thing.”

  His voice was patient. “Anything that helps a man communicate with God works.”

  “Thank you, Brother Jonathan.”

  “Peace and love,” he said.

  I glanced at my watch as I left. It was almost six o’clock. Right now it wasn’t as important to me to talk to God as it was to talk to Lonergan.

  21

  Lonergan’s voice was a weary whisper in my ear. “Have you ever thought of living in Mexico?”

  “Can’t drink the water. It gives me the trots.”

  “You’re not making it easy for me. They don’t like having their boys messed with.”

  “Then we’re even. I don’t like the idea of getting killed. Level with me, Uncle John. Can you get them off my back or can’t you?”

  I heard his faint sigh and realized that he was no longer the Uncle John of my childhood. He was close to seventy and for him the clock ticked twenty-four hours a day. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Before it was just a contract; now it’s personal. One of those men will never walk again.”

  “That’s real tough.”

  “I need a handle. Something to trade off with them.” He chuckled dryly. “Besides you, that is.”

  “Ronzi said they’d lay off if I took them in as partners.”

  “That was last night, before they knew what happened in the parking lot. Ronzi called this morning to tell me to let you know that deal is off now.”

  “I was supposed to call him tonight.”

  “Don’t. He probably has an electronic bug on his line. They could be on your back before you got off the phone.”

  “Then what do I do?”

  “Nothing. Just keep out of sight. Maybe they’ll cool off in a week or two and I can get them to talk.”

  “What about the paper? After this issue, it’s all going to fall apart.”

  “So it falls apart. You can always ask them to wrap you in it before they bury you.”

  I was silent.

  “Gareth.”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t do anything foolish. Just give me some time.”

  “You’ve got all the time you want, Uncle John. I haven’t. If that paper doesn’t come out for two weeks, I’m back on the street again.”

  “At least you’ll be alive. You’ll find other games to play.”

  “Sure.” I hung up the phone and listened to the coins drop in the box. I turned to find Denise standing a few feet away.

  “I came to take you to dinner.”

  I nodded and fell into step beside her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “What for?”

  “I made it worse for you. I shouldn’t have told them where you were.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  She put a hand on my arm and stopped me. “I’m really making a fool of myself, aren’t I?”

  I looked at her without speaking.

  “The kinetic conductor didn’t help this time. This was the first time it didn’t work for me. Brother Jonathan said I might need a few more sessions before I can be free of this sin.”

  “Are you sure it’s a sin?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Doesn’t Reverend Sam teach that love is not a sin? That to love each other is good? Love can also be a very physical thing.”

  “That’s what Brother Jonathan said. But I don’t know. I never felt like this before. I
want you all the time. That’s all I can think about.” We stopped at the entrance to the dining room. “All this time I’ve been talking about how I felt. How do you feel about me?”

  “I think you’re beautiful.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” she said quickly. “What should I do about the way I feel?”

  I smiled down at her. “Groove with it, baby. It only happens when you’re young. You’ll grow out of it soon enough.”

  There was hurt in her voice. “Is that what you really think?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I want you to tell me the truth,” she said insistently.

  The truth was what she got. “I’ve got more things on my mind right now than I can handle. And fucking is the least of them.”

  Abruptly she turned and ran off down the hall, leaving me standing in the doorway. I looked in the room and saw Brother Jonathan watching me. He gestured to an empty seat next to him.

  There were six other young men at the table. They nodded but did not speak. They were too busy eating.

  “We serve ourselves,” Brother Jonathan said, pointing to a large casserole in the middle of the table.

  The beef stew, stretched out with carrots and potatoes, was plain but good. I dipped the bread in the gravy because there was no butter. I filled my glass from the pitcher of milk and found it cold and surprisingly refreshing. No one spoke until the meal was over. Then one by one they got up, said, “Peace and love,” and left the table.

  I glanced around the room. There had been thirty-five or forty people there when I’d come in. Now there were only the few who were cleaning the tables.

  “I have coffee in my office,” Brother Jonathan said. “Would you like some?”

  “That would be fine.”

  His office was a small room just off the entrance hallway. He closed the door behind us and in a few minutes placed a cup of instant in front of me.

  “I also have some scotch,” he said.

  “I thought it was against the rules.”

  He smiled. “Strictly for medical purposes.”

  I nodded. “I don’t feel too good.”