“Because, contrary to what you believe, I am trying to help.” He addressed his answer to me and I remember thinking, I wish I could believe you.
“God draws good from evil,” Leah said, almost as if she had read my thoughts. This was something I heard her father say on several occasions and maybe this was the first time I actually understood.
“Before we get to the good, I want to go back to the evil.” The words and accusations of Eris and Sida still echoed in my ears, and no matter his logic, or the fact that he could be viewed as a victim of circumstance, I wasn’t willing to trust him. “I want some answers. Simple answers. Nonqualified answers.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. “Are you Sida’s twin?”
“Yes.”
“So you knew about him, and all that speculating about who and what he was, that was all an act?”
“I knew of his existence and surmised that he had engineered most of the recent troubles.” He smiled like the Adis I remembered, the one I could trust. He also didn’t completely answer my question.
“But he’s the passive twin, the devil that whispers in my ear. He couldn’t, for instance, pick up a knife and stab someone in the throat. That’s your job, correct?”
“That is correct. Sida has other talents, but a very limited capacity when it comes to impeding or injuring a human being.” He nodded more vigorously and then answered my next question. “Which is why he manipulated you.”
“And why he couldn’t take care of Eris himself. But you could have taken care of him. All that crap you fed us about not being able to see him, about being blind, was a lie.” Even before I finished, I felt Leah start with surprise and anger. In large part, I was guessing here. Neither Sida nor Eris told me anything about Adis’s limitations. Despite being completely incorrect, I was still glad I asked the question.
“No, that is not correct. As I told you earlier, Sida did his homework well. Like it or not, the acts and decisions of William Hartenstein were of his own volition, and as such were protected just as any act or decision you have ever made,” Adis answered, and his pointed meaning was clear.
“Except Hartenstein was under the influence of Sida, which calls into question whether they were made freely, or were the end result of Sida’s manipulation.” Sharpe now joined the inquisition. He, too, looked at Adis with suspicion.
“Hartenstein’s decisions and actions were his own. All Sida did was create opportunities. He set the stage. It is only subtly different than what I do on a daily basis,” Adis responded with growing frustration.
“If I give a known child molester directions to a grammar school, I am responsible for his acts.” Sharpe was angry. “In my world it is called depraved indifference and makes you just as guilty.”
“Not in my world,” Adis shot back. “Sida was very careful not to change any substantive portion of Eris’s time line, right down to the timing of his death.”
This statement caught me off guard. “Explain that,” I demanded.
“The whole of William Hartenstein’s short, tragic life, and how it was to play out, is clear to me, as I am sure it was clear to Sida. He was to die at the hands of Patrick Hancock early this morning.” Adis turned and focused on Leah. “Please don’t ask me for any of the details.”
I had a brief image of our oldest daughter standing at the Hancock’s second floor railing, staring down at us. As I said earlier, at times I can be rather dense, but there are times when I know the truth and this was another one.
“Doesn’t that change the time line of the judge, and the other people involved?” Sharpe asked.
“For most, the changes will cancel out.” Adis was now staring at me. His expression told me that switching places with Pat Hancock perhaps wasn’t such a good idea.
“What is all of this about? Not just the children, but all of this. What does he want?” Leah had assumed the role of the calm, analytic spouse, as I had already usurped the emotional role.
Adis took a deep breath. “That is a fair question, one that deserves more time than we have allotted to us, but briefly, as your husband already told you, Sida and I want the same thing.” Now he turned back to me. “But that doesn’t mean that we are working together.” His voice was hard and defensive, a rare state for Adis. “We are both tired and want to lay down our burdens. We want to move on.”
“You want to die,” Leah clarified. “So why don’t you step in front of a bus? Hell, I’ll put two in Sida’s head and he won’t even have to thank me.”
Adis smiled ruefully. “That would be easy, wouldn’t it? We are all owed one death. Only one death. You can’t do it twice. We must see this through to the end, only no one told us when that would be.” The unused chair behind him flashed briefly and was gone. “Now back to more pressing matters. We still have four unaccounted children, who as the detective has already surmised have been affected by recent events. We have very little time. Sida has them in a small ranch house just east of Austin.”
“Well, go get them,” both Leah and Sharpe said as one (actually I wasn’t completely certain what Sharpe said as Leah was so loud).
“I’ve tried. Twice. As I’ve told you.”
“We know, the future is obdurate,” Leah said sarcastically.
“We don’t have time for a debate, Leah,” Adis said sternly, which stopped my wife in her tracks. “My last attempt has triggered a series of events which puts the children at great risk. The price for my involvement from the start was their deaths and the passing of Eris has not changed that situation.” He looked determined—determined and angry. “I will not allow the deaths of four children to be one of the last things I do on this planet. My mistake must be corrected.” He directed his comment to Sharpe. “I will take you there and you will overcome the three men at the ranch and get the children to safety before they are hurt. This is important, do you understand?” Sharpe’s expression was slightly vacant, and he nodded dutifully.
“Why don’t you just call the police?” I asked. “Get a whole SWAT team over there.”
“No. No one else can know and no one else can be involved. It would alert Sida, and if he is challenged he will engineer the destruction of the ranch and everyone on it. If we don’t hurry, it may happen anyway.” He put his hand on Sharpe’s shoulder. “I can’t force or coerce you to do this. This has to be of your own free will.”
“Just get me there,” Sharpe said. In retrospect, I would like to say that he sounded like John Wayne, a confident hero who had earned his swagger, but in reality he sounded more like a man tired of being asked to do things. That being said, you can’t take anything from the man. Even if I had known what this decision would cost him, I’m certain he would still have gone.
“Unfortunately, I have no time to explain, but both of you will need to come with me now, without questions or debate.” Adis, as one could have guessed, addressed this comment to Leah. Before either of us could respond, we found ourselves in the rectory of St. Catherine’s church. Adis was gone, and in front of us sat a nun who appeared to have been expecting us.
“What the—” Leah censored herself the instant she realized where we were.
“Hell just happened?” The smirking nun finished.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Unyielding Future Page 24