“That’s the one.”
Jodi stared from the table to Joe Mac before she replied, “You’re not just blind, Joe, you’re insane. How am I supposed to steal that thing from the FBI? They haven’t even finished processing it. And you do realize that stealing evidence from the FBI is a federal crime, don’t you?”
“We need it,” Joe Mac shook his head. “We gotta have it.”
“Why?”
Joe said, “Because old man Chamberlain can only make one more robe for us before tomorrow night. But we need three robes so we can all sneak into this midnight mass and arrest every single one of these goons.” He raised his face. “You hear me? We’re gonna walk in there with the rest of them because we’ll be dressed for Halloween just like everybody else. Then, when they start on this little boy, you’ll pull your gun.”
Jodi was nodding as if in agreement. “And then they’ll murder us like dogs and throw our bodies into one of their death pits.”
“They call it a ‘ritual pit,’” said Marvin.
“Are you dead when you hit the bottom of it?” asked Jodi.
“Yeah.”
“Then it’s a death pit!” Jodi focused on Joe Mac with, “I don’t mind telling you, Joe, that I’m not going back in there tomorrow tonight. I’m not going back in there! Period! I’m gonna tell Brightbarton that we’ve found their little prehistoric frat house and he can send every SWAT guy we’ve got to mow ‘em down like the heathen scum they are!”
Joe Mac shook his head, “That won’t work.”
“Why not!”
“Because they’ll see SWAT coming a mile away and they’ll just fade into those tunnels, and we’ll won’t catch a single one of them. Then they’ll build another one of those monuments somewhere else and start all over again.”
“That’s too bad,” Jodi shrugged, “because I’m not going back in there just so we can all get butchered by a bunch of devil-worshipping cannibals. This is what SWAT does, Joe! They’re pros at this! It’s their job to take down heathens like this when they’re going to sacrifice the life of a little boy in some kind of ungodly Wicker Man ceremony tomorrow night!”
“What manner of monument?” asked Professor Augustus Graven.
“They’ve built an exact replica of Stonehenge somewhere beneath the city,” answered Marvin. “We found the entrance, but the tunnel ran for several miles, so we don’t know the exact location. Jodi’s best guess is that it’s somewhere west of the city.”
“And you are certain about this ceremony?” Graven followed. “It is the Wicker Man and it is tomorrow night? The Winter Solstice?”
“Yes.”
Professor Graven was ashen as he said, “Then I’m afraid Detective Joe Mac is correct. The only chance you have of saving this little boy’s life and apprehending this Ri is to seize him during the Wicker Man ceremony.”
“Why don’t we just capture one of these guys on his way to the meeting and make him give us some names?” suggested Jodi. “You can even torture him, Joe, and I’ll hold him down.” She added, “We might as well. I mean, illegal imprisonment and aggravated assault are the only laws we haven’t broken.”
“No,” Professor Graven shook his head. “It will do you no good to merely capture a member of this group because he will not know the true identity of this Ri.”
“They don’t know who he is?” asked Jodi. “How is that possible?”
Professor Graven glanced at Brightbarton, who was still busy with Rollins, before he said, “The high priest of a Druid sect wears a red death mask during rituals, and so it is highly unlikely that any member of this group has ever seen his face. And you’ve probably surmised by now that these are not social people. They only gather for ceremonies where there is no need for conversation or names. So, not only do they not know the identity of their Ri, or their chieftain, they probably don’t even know the identities of one another because they each wear a mask and say nothing but incantations.”
Marvin said, “How difficult will it be to get close to their Ri?”
“It will be very difficult,” Professor Graven answered. “He will have well-trained bodyguards who will not hesitate to kill at the slightest provocation. But if you can kill his bodyguards and put him under arrest before he can flee, then you won’t have to worry about the rest scattering and escaping through the tunnels. The Ri will know their names, and you can arrest them later.”
Joe Mac asked, “How is it that this chief knows the names of his people, but they don’t know his name?”
“Because the Ri must approve every member. But the Ri himself comes from a royal bloodline, so no one can either disapprove or approve of him. His title is inherited, and there is no dispute.”
“So we don’t have a case unless we capture this one man?”
“You will have slaves. But you won’t have the master. And the master is the one who organizes the slaughter of victims. He is also the only one who can rebuild the coven should he escape.”
Joe Mac turned to Jodi. “Well?” He waited. “We don’t need a whole SWAT team just to take down one man, do we?”
Jodi responded, “Joe, we’ll be outnumbered hundreds to one. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that they carry guns, too. Yeah, sure, we could make a play for this king of theirs, but even if we get past the bodyguards, what makes you think we can survive the rest of them when they all pull a piece?”
“You got a better idea on how we’re gonna capture this guy?”
Jodi found herself nervously tapping her foot. And she didn’t want to say anything, but she eventually muttered, “We need two more guys.”
“Why do we need two more guys?”
“If … and this is a big ‘if’ … if I can get close to this king of theirs, and put him under arrest, I’ll have to concentrate on keeping him under control. That means I won’t be able to concentrate on what’s in front of me or behind me. And I can’t trust Marvin with that. He doesn’t have the training. And I can’t trust you with that, either. You’re blind. So how am I gonna cover the chief and the Indians, too?”
“I will go with you,” Professor Graven volunteered.
Jodi found herself studying the old man. “You have a lot of experience at gunfighting, professor?”
“I gained a very unfortunate amount of combat experience during the Vietnam War,” answered Professor Graven. His brow rose, “Yes, I have not always been a scientist. When I was young, I was a soldier.”
Jodi grimaced and looked to the window, fighting the urge to fidget. “What a crew we got – two archeologists, a blind man, and a rookie detective. There is no way this is going to end well.” She took a moment. “So how are we going to steal that robe?”
“Leave that to me,” said the professor. “Dr. Mason? I’ll need your help.
Marvin nodded.
“Come.”
Brightbarton reentered the office as they moved toward the door.
“Where do you two think you’re going?” he asked. “I want some answers.”
“We have learned something critical about the identity of these Druids,” said Professor Graven without hesitation. “And the secret lies in the documents we found in the dead man’s house. But we’ll have to take the documents to the museum to compare them with ancient Gaelic letters that are under glass – items that cannot be removed because they will disintegrate if exposed to the atmosphere.”
If suspicion had a physical face, Brightbarton would have personified it. Then he looked at Jodi who did her best to appear innocent before he focused on Joe Mac, who said, “I’ll have some answers for you after they check those documents, Steve, but you gotta let them translate that stuff. All I can tell you right now is that we’re close.” He paused. “Real close.”
Shaking his head with a grimace, Brightbarton motioned for the door. “Get out of here. And if you don’t get back to me by this afternoon, Joe, you’re off this case. And so are you, hotshot. Your detective career will be as dead as Julius Caesar.”
&
nbsp; As Jodi guided Joe Mac from the office, she saw Marvin energetically searching through papers on the conference table with Professor Graven gazing on.
Marvin was creating quite a stir at the far end of the room speaking rapidly about ancient locations and Druidic practices with Rollins and every other FBI agent catching each word as Professor Graven slowly opened his leather briefcase and slid the robe surreptitiously into the open gap. Then he quietly closed the case and slowly made his way across the squad room. He didn’t look back. Didn’t speed up. Didn’t slow down. He simply sauntered through detectives until he disappeared out the door.
When Jodi and Joe Mac emerged onto the street, Professor Graven was standing at a far corner and waved. Then he stepped into the street, hailed a cab, and was gone.
Jodi didn’t have to be told where to find him.
They waited another ten minutes before Marvin bounded off the stairs carrying another briefcase. His face was pasty and pale and covered with sweat. “Holy Mother!” he whispered, a hand on his chest. “That was rough! They realized the robe had gone missing before I even got out of the room.”
Jodi’s eyes widened. “What did you tell them?”
“I told them the robe is just a Halloween costume. I said the documents hold the answer they’re looking for. I got the papers right here. Then they asked Brightbarton about the robe, and he said someone probably inventoried it.”
“Did they buy it?”
“For now, yeah.”
“Good.”
Jodi hailed a cab and they climbed in.
“The Museum of Natural History,” she said. “And hurry it up. We’re half out of time and clean out of luck.”
* * *
Marvin explained the entire layout to Professor Graven who sat with a stare as unrevealing as a stone Buddha. Graven had also said nothing as Marvin described in detail the layout of the monument they’d discovered, and when Marvin finished Graven merely stood and walked slowly across his office, an arm across his chest, one hand cupping his chin.
Finally, he asked, “You say this would be a replica of Stonehenge at the height of its glory? Before it fell into disrepair?”
“Yes,” Marvin nodded.
“Yes,” Graven murmured and stopped strolling before a picture window. “What they have done is no more than guesswork because no one knows the original architecture of Stonehenge.” He paused. “But the original design is inconsequential. We can confidently infer that it was the locus of great and horrific human sacrifice. And that is not surprising. Animal and human sacrifice were commonly practiced during the fifth millennium BC by practically every people group on the planet. What is more important is this: What are they trying to accomplish that was originally the intent of Stonehenge? What is their end cause? What is the motivation for recreating the locus of such a savage empire? And what is the cause of these seemingly random murders not committed on the sacred ground of this new Stonehenge but in trees and warehouses and the homes of everyday people?”
Jodi said, “We think they’re afraid that the Christ child has been reborn, and they’re trying to kill him before he destroys their movement like Christianity destroyed their movement in the first century.”
Graven nodded, “Yes, the arrival of Christianity sounded the death knell for the Druidic Empire – the beginning of the end. It destroyed them on the level of ideas, and that is always the purest, strongest way to destroy a movement. For when you defeat the idea, you defeat the people behind the idea. They would obviously not want the Christ child to be born again and set them back another two thousand years.” He gestured to a book shelf. “Forget that the Christ was prophesied to be born only once. Theological and mythological inaccuracy is always the greatest weapon of a religion’s opponent.”
Joe Mac was sitting with a stoic, displeased expression as he commented, “Where do these people come from?”
“From everywhere,” Graven replied plainly. “From the staffs of museums, police departments, fire departments, universities, corporations, and hospitals. The appeal of immortality gained through a metaphysical belief is in every suburban home and every bank and military institute and temple. It was the same with Egypt, with Israel, with the Aztecs, the Mayans, and the Saracens. It has been thus throughout history, and it is the same today with the most ennobled president or the lowliest peasant. Every human being wishes they could live forever, and that is what the mythology of the Druid promises.”
Marvin remarked dryly, “It makes for motivated followers.”
“Indeed,” Graven nodded. “That is why we must not concern ourselves with capturing a mere member of this group. They will tell us nothing because all they know is the mythology that binds them. They don’t know the identity of the chieftain who leads this movement to resurrect an empire so savage that the Romans obliterated it not to annex their land but to destroy the horror of what the Druids had so mercilessly inflicted upon the world. When Roman Centurions saw the Druids perform their ceremony of the Wicker Man they immediately killed every Druid in the valley of Pies de Martel out of sheer revulsion.”
“So what’s the plan?” asked Jodi. “I don’t mind saying that I don’t fancy Joe’s idea of just walking in there wearing these Halloween costumes. We’ll be outnumbered and outgunned and these people are not shy about killing. If we make a single mistake, it’ll be our last. I promise you.”
“Then I suggest we do not make a mistake,” said Graven. “There is simply no other way to apprehend the Ri. Nor, I might add, do you presently have a reason to apprehend him. Like everyone else in this country, these people enjoy the freedom of religion. They are protected by the Constitution and so to pursue them is to violate every constitutional and civil right on the books. That is why you must catch them in the act of murder. Then you can connect them to the other murders, and you will have your case for the District Attorney. Otherwise this is merely an academic debate on ancient mythologies – something that belongs to the realm of archeology and not police work.”
Joe Mac looked distinctly unhappy as he said, “All right. We’re gonna need a place to hole up until tomorrow night. I can’t go home with them knowing I’m onto them. You shouldn’t either, Jodi. Even if you live alone. It’s not safe. And the same goes for you, Marvin.”
“I have an adequate home,” said Professor Graven. “I am not connected to this in any ‘official’ way because my advice has been totally off the record – so to speak. I think you would be safe with me.”
“All right,” said Joe Mac. “Jodi? Get Captain Brightbarton on your cell.”
“The captain? Why?”
“Just do it.”
Jodi hit ‘1’ and Brightbarton answered on the first ring. Then she simply gave it to Joe Mac who said, “Steve, listen quick. I’ve found one of ‘em. Yeah, I’m on top of him right now.” He paused. “I’m at the south end of Central Park beside the fountain. I’m gonna be here until he comes out of this townhome. Got anybody who can back me up? No, I don’t want any uniforms. Has to be undercover.”
Joe Mac gave the phone to Jodi.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“I’m gonna try to find out who blew our rendezvous with Montanus,” said Joe Mac. “If things go bad tomorrow night, we’ll have to call for backup whether we like it or not. And I’d like to know who we can trust.”
“I thought you said we could trust the captain.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about. Brightbarton is gonna talk to somebody. Maybe Rollins. I don’t know. But if somebody shows up to kill me, then we’ll know where it’s broke.”
“But why did you pick a place out in the open?” Jodi pressed. “They could hit us from a dozen different directions.”
“I want Poe with me.” Joe Mac extended his cane. “He’ll let me know if something’s coming.” He nodded, “You go with them. I’ll catch a cab to the park, and I’ll call you later if things work out all right.”
“You gotta be kidding.” Jodi grabbed her c
oat and turned to Marvin. “I’m going with him. Call me with the professor’s address. If nothing happens, we’ll be there in a few hours. But I’d feel better if you were off the street.”
“She’s right,” said Professor Graven. “The museum is not secure, and these are the most dangerous of all people. We need to retire to my home where I might arm myself. And I have a very good security system. We will be safe there.”
Jodi grabbed Joe Mac’s elbow, “Let’s go, Joe. If we’ve got a date to get ourselves killed there’s no use being late.”
* * *
Standing beside an oak tree Jodi found herself gazing up at the expansive canopy still thick with the full gamut of autumn color. Although tomorrow was the first day of winter, this towering arboreal giant was lasting far longer than most to shed its glory.
Joe Mac was standing on the far side of the trunk, one hand in a pocket, his other hand holding his cane. And before them, perched on a limb, Poe was doing his normal thing – watching everything, catching everything. Jodi was sure that nothing moved within their sphere of safety that Poe did not notice and evaluate.
“Do you think Poe knows what he’s saying when he uses his words?” Jodi asked.
Although she tried to make it sound like casual conversation, the truth was that she needed to talk to defuse her fears; she’d never been in a gunfight before, but she was learning the fear before the fight wasn’t exactly a cake walk.
“Of course,” said Joe Mac. “Why do you think he talks?”
“I don’t know. Sounds a little far-fetched. If he knows what he’s saying, then he’s almost human … or something. I don’t even know how to describe it. What has he ever said to you that makes you think he understands the meaning of words?”
“I saw him harassing a dog.”
“You saw him do what?”
“Harassing a dog.”
“How was he harassing the dog?”
“Well,” Joe Mac began slowly, “there used to be this big ol’ black hound dog down the street. I hated the thing. It used to tear up my garbage and bark at me every time I went outside. Then Poe vanished for about a week. A few days later the dog came back around and Poe came back around with it. I heard Poe in the trees. Then the dog came close to me, and Poe said, ‘Zeus! Come inside!’”
DARK VISIONS Page 20