“Are you sure about the ring?” I asked. “I’m guessing you swiped it from Archie’s finger when he collapsed.”
Feret reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. “Where do you get your strange ideas? Mr. Morgan himself gave this to me on Friday morning.”
I nodded at Brian. “Did your coffee boy and new depositary chief verify it for you?”
Brian rolled his eyes and spoke in a bored voice. “Seven sided crystal, each side having five prongs—of course it’s real.”
“And what does it project?” Val asked.
Brian shrugged. “The Soul Identity logo.”
“That’s right, Brian.” I paused. “But does it?”
“Duh,” Brian said. “Mr. Morgan showed us just yesterday morning.”
“Right,” I said. “When he gave you the ring.”
Brian looked at Feret. “May I see the ring, sir?”
Feret handed it to him, and Brian pulled the shades almost shut. “Watch and learn.” A small shaft of light entered the room. He held the ring in the light and focused the image on the wall.
“There’s the projection,” Val said. “That’s not our logo.”
The projection showed some letters: s-d-o-o.”
I smiled. “It’s upside down.”
Brian flipped the ring over.
“How appropriate,” I said.
“I didn’t think the old man had it in him,” Feret said. He turned to me as Brian opened the shades. “I’ll admit I was devastated when I lost the ring ten years ago, but now I’m happy to say that my plans no longer rely on it.”
“Can you afford somebody else having it?” I asked.
“I’m the only overseer—the ring’s useless to others.”
“Good point,” I said. “Let’s see what other bum cards you’re holding. You said your delivery man cannot be fired—who is that?”
“It’s Bob, you ignorant man,” Brian said. “Don’t you remember the century party yesterday? What you don’t know is how long he’s been helping us.”
Val raised her eyebrows. “I think we all know that Bob is a centuriat, Brian. And we heard him declare for the new order. But why do you say that he can’t be fired?”
“Because that’s an inviolable rule!” Brian shouted. “You may not know this, but Soul Identity’s inviolable rules cannot be broken.”
“Really?” I asked. “How did the rule get enacted?”
“It takes an overseer ring to make an inviolable rule…” Brian’s voice trailed off.
“And it takes an overseer ring to reverse it.” I looked at Feret. “Did you ever wonder why Archie was carrying the ring yesterday? That rule is gone.”
Feret glared at Brian. “Inviolable rules can be overturned?”
Brian hung his head. “All the overseer rings were gone.”
“So you didn’t bother telling me?” Feret’s eyes narrowed.
Time to sink the weasel who twice tried to kill us.
“Don’t be so hard on your coffee boy,” I said to Feret. “After all, you already know his limitations.”
Brian growled and started toward me, but he stopped when Feret held up his hand.
“What limitations?” Feret asked.
I ticked them off on my fingers. “You’ve been waiting a few years now for him to get rid of Archie. He missed us when he blew up the guesthouse. He took orders from us over a chat session, thinking we were you.” I looked at Brian. “You didn’t know about that, did you?”
“That’s quite enough,” Feret said.
“I’m not done,” I said, holding up my hand. “Coffee boy does have one success—the palytoxin.” I nodded at Brian. “That was good, although it’s too bad we taped you dropping the tablets into the glasses.”
Feret turned to Brian. “How does he know about the palytoxin?” he asked in a calm but deadly tone.
Brian shook his head. “He must be guessing, sir. Those papers were kept safely in my—”
“Soul line collection,” I finished for him. “The other really nice feature of the overseer ring.” I smiled at Brian. “One more limitation to add to the list.”
“I learned a cool Latin quote on the flight over here,” Val said. “Adde parvum parvo magnus acervus erit. It’s from Ovid.”
“What’s it mean?” I asked.
“Add a little to a little and there will be a great heap,” Feret said. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Final limitation, Brian,” I said. “Your coffee jokes suck.”
“I’ve had enough of this.” Brian jumped on me before I could get out of my chair, and I struggled to push him off. He went limp and I shoved him as hard as I could.
Brian fell backward onto the floor.
I wiped my face and looked at blood on my fingers. “You cut me, you little prick.”
Val shook her head and pointed, and I looked down at Brian. His wide eyes stared at the ceiling. He gave a gurgle, coughed up a mouthful of blood, and started shaking. He groaned, and the sound stuck in his throat for a long time before it faded away. Then he was still, his eyes unblinking.
Val and I turned to Feret when he cleared his throat. He held a small pistol in his left hand.
“Did you just shoot your coffee boy?” I asked.
Feret nodded. “Ad vitam aut culpam.”
I shot a glance at Val. She sat frozen, staring at Brian’s body.
Feret looked at his pistol. “Brian wasn’t totally useless. A seventeen caliber bullet coated in palytoxin is rather effective.” He tossed a handkerchief to me. “I am sorry about the little mess.”
I wiped off my face and fingers. “Aren’t you just digging yourself a deeper hole?”
“On the contrary, I’m filling in the holes.” Feret smiled. “Here is what I see. You two came to my office with proof that Brian poisoned Mr. Morgan and Ms. Blake. Together we confronted him, but he attacked you and Ms. Nikolskaya. I grabbed his gun and stopped him.” He stared at me. “The only question remaining is whether you two survived his attack.”
I cursed myself for not anticipating this kind of problem. We were only going to waltz in here and give Feret a false sense of success—not get ourselves shot while doing so.
I frowned. “I don’t think Brian was able to kill us.”
“Why not?” He aimed the pistol at me.
“Because if he had, I wouldn’t be able to stop the evidence from reaching the people investigating the deaths of Archie and Ann.” I was having a hard time keeping my voice steady with the pistol trained on me.
Feret wagged the pistol back and forth. “What evidence would they have?”
“Nothing direct, but quite a bit of circumstantial evidence that may make your life messy.” I stared at him. “Your video, for one, with your speech that predicts their demise, along with you changing glasses and refusing to drink from Archie’s.”
“I believe I could beat that video,” he said.
“You could if that was the only evidence that the investigators looked at,” I said. “But if they read your own story of revenge that you saved on your system, or went through your chat logs with Brian where you plotted my and Val’s deaths, they might think they had a shot of getting you convicted.”
“Or maybe they’d be interested in the match program,” Val said. “Tinless Tiksey has gotten over his scare of your threat to destroy his gompa, and would be only too happy to explain how you blackmailed him ten years ago.”
Feret shrugged. “Given their despicable activities, it will be child’s play to portray the lama as non-credible.”
“It’s moot, anyway,” I said. “Your match program, along with your overseer status, disappears in twenty minutes.”
That got his attention. He stared at me with his mouth open, then finally asked, “You would leave Soul Identity with no overseers?”
“No, that would be bad.” I smiled. “Arthur Berringer is more than willing to become executive overseer and fill the gap. Yesterday the match committee issued him a special card that works eve
n without the eye you had poked out.” I shook my head. “No, Andre, I’m positive that Brian was unable to shoot us. His boss would have lost everything.”
Feret pursed his lips and stared at me for a minute. Then he nodded. “You are right, Mr. Waverly. A happy ending for both of us would be much better.”
Whew. But I couldn’t see any way this could end with both of us being happy.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
Feret smiled and put the pistol in his suit pocket. “Why not join me?”
“And be your coffee boy? No, but thanks anyway.”
“You both could become my partners.”
“Partners?” Val asked.
“Limited minority partners,” he said. “I’ve contributed most of the effort, after all.”
“Partners won’t work,” I said.
“Why not?” Feret’s eyes narrowed.
I was afraid he was going to reach into his pocket and pull out the gun, but I plowed ahead anyway. “I learned a couple of Latin phrases this morning, hoping that I’d get to use them. Here’s one—nihil curo de ista tua stulta superstitione.”
Feret laughed. “I’m not interested in my crazy cult either.”
I cocked my head to one side. “What do you mean?”
Feret walked around the desk and sat on its edge. “You said you have read my online papers?”
“Just your Raison d’Etre.”
“So you know that I am one hundred percent consumed with destroying Soul Identity.” He sneered. “But nobody knows how difficult these last ten years have been, working with these silly people who believe there is meaning in their soul lines. These people disgust me. They are pathetic.” He spat these words out.
“I’m missing something,” I said. “Haven’t you established a Soul Identity alternative?”
“I have. And a very successful alternative it is.”
“If these people disgust you, why are you helping them?”
“Helping them?” He smirked at me. “Helping them?” He started laughing. “I’m not helping them, Mr. Waverly. I’m using them. All that money coming out of Soul Identity—where do you think it goes?”
“You tell me,” I said.
His eyes were wild now. “The money all goes to me!” he shouted. “All of it. I give them false statements showing how much they’ve saved up for their future lives, and they are thrilled. Meanwhile I’m getting rich—very rich.”
I shook my head. “You’re doing all this because your father died?”
Feret jumped up, but then seemed to regain control. He sat back down. “Do not mention my father again,” he said in a very soft voice. “He was a saint, and Soul Identity killed both him and my mother.”
We had to stay alive and get Feret over to the meeting. I stared at the floor. “I’m sorry,” I said. “That was insensitive of me.”
Feret nodded. “Do not do it again,” he said. He walked behind his desk. “Now I must give my speech to our big meeting of fools. They’re waiting for me to tell them how wonderful they are, when in reality I wish they would hurry up and die.”
“That’s pretty sad,” Val said.
“It’s practical.” He pulled some note cards out of his drawer and put them in his jacket pocket. Then he sat back on the edge of the desk. “Mr. Waverly, I assume you are also practical. You can see the big picture. Bob told me how you advised Mr. Morgan and Ms. Blake to stop fighting during your meeting.” He shook his head. “They didn’t listen, but now that I’ve killed them, it doesn’t really matter.”
“I suppose I am a practical kind of guy,” I said. “Where are you going with this?”
“We can find a way to work together.” He looked at Val. “Did you tell him how much money your organization manages?”
She shook her head.
“No?” Feret smiled. “Over two trillion dollars. That’s twelve zeroes—and it could be ours. What would it take to make you break your word, forget what happened, and lose the evidence you have? A billion dollars? Two billion? A hundred billion?”
“I see your point,” I said. “Everybody and everything has a price.” I looked at Val, but she glared back at me.
“I’d rather die than cheat our members,” she said. “They trust us. How dare you destroy that trust?”
Feret reached into his pocket and pulled out the pistol. “I am very sorry to hear you say that. I was rather hoping that you’d see it my way.”
Now why did he have to test my ‘everything has a price’ theory so quickly? I jumped up and hollered, “Wait!”
Feret looked at me.
“On second thought, some things are priceless,” I said. “If you shoot Val, there’s no amount of money that will keep me from finding a way to destroy you.” I pointed at him. “Put that gun away. Go to your meeting. Let me talk to Val, and we can figure this out when you return.”
Feret shifted the pistol to me. “Nice try. What will prevent you from walking out of here?”
My mind raced through various scenarios, but it came up blank. I wasn’t planning on hanging out for him to return. So I sighed. “I don’t know,” I said.
He gave me a thin smile. “Good answer,” he said. “I still admire your forthrightness.” He jerked the pistol toward Val. “Take off Brian’s clothes.”
Val crossed her arms. “I’m not touching him.”
Feret’s voice went soft and quiet. “Do it. Now.”
Val started to undress Brian.
“You too,” he said to me.
“Me too what?” I asked.
“Put your clothes with Brian’s. Then help her.”
I nodded, and started undressing. “Everything?”
“Everything.” Feret walked to the closet and looked inside.
After a minute we stood naked next to Brian’s body. Val covered herself as best as she could with her hands.
Feret bundled up our clothes and grunted as he heaved them out the window. We heard them splash into the canal below.
“Get in the closet,” he said. “Bring the body with you.”
We dragged Brian into the closet.
Feret stood at the door, pointing the pistol at us. “This should hold you until I return from the meeting.”
“Then why’d you take our clothes?” I asked.
He smiled. “If you do manage to escape, I don’t want you interrupting me.”
It was hard to argue with that logic.
Feret started to close the door, but then he paused. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you two can help fill in for Brian right after my meeting.” He sighed. “He and I had planned a cleansing event during my speech, but now he’s not around to help me clean up the bodies.”
“Cleansing event?” I asked.
He stared at me for a full minute. “You saw the first one yesterday, Mr. Waverly, with our previous executive overseer and depositary chief.”
Val gasped. “You’re going to kill your members?” she cried.
“A few of them, Ms. Nikolskaya,” he said. “Just enough to leave some fear in the survivors.”
“You can’t do that!” she cried.
“Of course I can,” he said. Then he laughed. “And what fun—now that Brian is gone, the deaths will be truly random. Even I don’t know which bottle of champagne he poisoned.”
One last sinister smile, and Feret pushed the door shut. The closet went dark. I felt for a knob, but the interior of the door was smooth metal.
We heard the lock turn and the door handle click as Feret tested it. Something heavy slid across the floor outside. “I’m barricading the door with my desk,” he said. “Don’t bother trying to get out.”
As soon as we heard the office door slam shut, Val grabbed my arm. “Scott, your parents will be in the audience,” she said.
I was thinking the same thing. “We have to get out of here and warn them,” I said.
I threw myself against the door, but it didn’t budge. We felt around the walls and floor, trying to avoid Br
ian’s body, which was now leaking fluids. But we found nothing to use to pry the door open.
After a few minutes more of searching we slumped against the door.
“Now what?” Val asked.
“George and Sue should have heard everything until our clothes and the transmitter went out the window,” I said.
“They better get here fast.”
We stood silently for a couple of minutes and held hands. Then Val gave a nervous laugh.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I was thinking about how we’ll look when they come to rescue us.”
“They’ve already seen me naked,” I said. I pulled her close again and stroked her back and thought about how it took Feret almost shooting her for me to realize that she was priceless.
We held each other and waited for our rescue.
After what seemed like hours but was maybe only fifteen minutes, we heard the desk scraping along the floor and somebody calling, “Scott, Val? Yoo-hoo!”
I banged on the door. “George, we’re in here.”
“It’s locked and there’s no key,” we heard him say.
“It’s just a door knob. Break it off,” Sue said.
“Great idea, my love. With what?”
Silence for a minute. Then Sue said, “Don’t use that, George. It will—” We heard a crash. “Shatter. Here, try this instead.”
Another thump, and then another. The door shook.
“Now wiggle that piece right there,” Sue said.
“Got it,” George said. The door swung open and we stood squinting in the light.
“Pee yew!” George held his nose. “What is that smell?”
“You don’t want to know,” I said.
“Careful where you walk. Here, we brought you some clothes,” Sue said. “No underwear, socks, or shoes, but enough to get you guys mobile.” She held out a bag.
As we dressed, I said to George, “Obviously the bugs and transmitter worked. Did you record it all?”
He grinned. “Every word, from the Bridge of Boobs to the big splash.”
Oops.
George looked in the closet and whistled. “He really did kill Brian, didn’t he?”
“What a monster,” Sue said. “We’ll have to clean this up later.”
“Let’s get to your staging area,” I said. “Before Feret poisons somebody—like my parents.”
Soul Identity Page 30