by Orson B Wolf
Paul watched on in amazement. He had heard of the man and his various exploits, but the reality surpassed his wildest imaginings. The two reporters sitting next to him exchanged whispers.
“He’s actually saying that the prophet won’t be on the air tonight,” said one of them.
“The prophet is supposed to go live in twenty minutes. If it’s true…” His friend completed the sentence: “Then Morse really has something up his sleeve.”
They both seemed pleased as they took out their cell phones and started reporting.
Paul decided he should get out of there. This wouldn’t bring him any closer to locating David. He left the tent, happy to get away from the commotion. He quickly hobbled his way back to his car between metal railings and cable carts, bypassing a group of people arguing amongst themselves. He couldn’t hear what they were saying and didn’t care either.
He had nearly reached his car when he saw the girl. Her hair was wet from the rain. She was holding a little brown dog. He recognized her: she was the girl who had met with David at the park during his first day on the job. Hard to believe only four days had passed since.
Perhaps she knew something about the boy? He had nothing to lose.
“Hey, you’re David’s friend, aren’t you?” he asked with a smile and stepped closer to her.
“Who are you?” she whispered, taking a step back.
She recoiled from him, which was to be expected. After all, he was a stranger walking up to a teenage girl in the middle of the night. But he knew time wasn’t on his side. He had to hurry.
“I’m a friend of David’s. I’m a detective.” He took out his ID and presented it to the girl.
Her eyes darted as she brushed a strand of wet hair off her forehead.
Paul decided to take a chance and simply tell her the truth. “David has gone missing and I have to find him. Can you help me?”
54
A Boy and His Dog
Mrs. Graham knocked on the door. “The major wants to see you.”
Edward was sitting in his office, speaking with his wife, Clara. It was almost eight thirty in the evening and he couldn’t understand why they hadn’t reached the school yet. They had spoken earlier and decided to act according to the major’s advice: they would go to the school shelter and stay there, all three of them—Edward, Clara, and Simon, their six-year old son.
This was the safest place for the Castner family. The armored shelter, built under the school grounds for the use of students and local residents, met the official government standard.
They would be safe from any harm and Edward would be close to his students, able to care for them. But today, of all days, the battery in his wife’s car had gone dead. Clara trusted the neighbors to pick her up, but they, so it appeared, had a different idea in mind.
“Just take a taxi and get here as soon as possible.”
“You’re right, Eddie. I’ll do that right away.”
He sighed. “All right. I’m in the office. I just want you guys here with me.”
It was only now that he noticed the hesitant tapping of Mrs. Graham on his door. “Edward? Did you hear me? It’s the major.”
“What does he want now?” Edward grunted and opened the door wide.
“He wants you to go see him now.” Mrs. Graham looked paler than ever. “He says it’s urgent,” she added hesitantly as he walked past her and hastened to the hallway.
A few steps later, he stopped in his tracks, turned around, and gave her a concerned look.
“What about you, Nancy?” This was one of the few times he had used her first name. “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”
He knew that she lived on her own in the older part of town. He assumed her apartment building did not have a proper shelter.
“I’m staying here.”
That comforted Edward. “Excellent. We’ll be here too. Clara and Simon are on their way.” He gave her an encouraging smile and saw a hint of relief in her eyes.
He turned around, and with a brisk step reached the major’s office. The door was ajar and he knocked on it.
The major stood by the desk, a pensive expression on his face, distractedly rubbing the stump of his missing arm.
“Sit down, Mr. Castner.”
“Any updates about the attack?” asked Edward. He knew the officer had an extensive network of sources and might know about new developments before anyone else.
“Nothing new, unfortunately.” Lincoln motioned at the empty chair. “This isn’t why I’ve summoned you here.”
Edward hated the way the major spoke to him. “Summoned you…” He wasn’t one of his soldiers. “So what’s up, then?”
“We’ve gone through the list of names you gave us. Looks like we’re on to something. Perhaps it’s nothing, but we’ll need your help here.”
“Really?” Edward tensed. He had passed the list of employees and students to the major just a few hours ago. It appeared that the major and his team didn’t rest for a second.
“I’ll get to the main point,” the major began. “We focused our efforts on checking those living in the areas where we’ve intercepted a large number of communications with the prophet. We then cross-referenced them with school attendance hours. We were then able to downsize our list to three names, one of which is this boy’s.”
He pointed to a computer printout on the desk: the profile page of a student. Edward immediately recognized him. It was David Robertson, good with mathematics and computer science, a decent student, but not an exceptional one. His IQ test score was average.
“All right, this surely doesn’t mean that…” he began to say, but fell silent when the major stood from his chair with a swift movement.
“Wait! Remember the accident we spoke about, the one involving the truck?”
“I do. So what?” Edward became impatient.
“It turns out there are security cameras at the intersection, and I was able to obtain the footage taken on the morning of the accident. I couldn’t see it at first, because I played the video too fast. It looked like a quickly passing blotch on the corner of the image, but then I played the video slowly, frame-by-frame, until I found it. Here, I printed it for you.”
The major handed Edward a printed photograph. The timestamp appeared in the corner of the page: 06:55 am.
Edward stared at the photograph. It was a black and white image, a single frozen moment taken from the video the major had spoken about. It was pixelated and apparently taken from afar. There was a bench in the center of the image, with a blanket-wrapped figure on it: the street vagrant Edward immediately recognized as “The Princess.” There was another figure in the corner of the photograph. It was a boy holding a dog by its leash. The boy was photographed from behind, but looking sideways. Edward recognized his face with certainty.
“He just stood there, staring at this homeless woman. After a few minutes of standing motionless, he simply cleared off. Do you recognize this student?”
“Of course,” Edward answered quickly. “It’s David Robertson.”
“Bingo,” said the major. “And it just so happens his mother called this morning to say her son is sick and won’t be coming to school.”
The officer drew silent for a moment, then stood up straight, as if he’d just come to a decision. He picked up the telephone. “Have the car wait for me at the gate,” he commanded. He raised his eyes at Edward. “We’re going to pay David Robertson a visit.”
Edward was surprised. “What do you need me for?” Did the major think that David had something to do with the prophet? It was hard to believe.
The major rose to his feet. “Wait a minute,” he said and left the office.
Edward really didn’t feel like going into the streets right now, with everything going on. Besides, Clara and Simon were on their way. He had to be present and personally w
elcome them, help them find their place in the school shelter.
He suddenly heard loud shouts coming from outside the office. The door violently opened and the major came back in the office, furious.
“Those idiots!” He threw himself in his chair and shook his head in disbelief.
Edward said nothing, certain that an explanation would briefly follow.
“The boy has been missing since the morning hours. Apparently, his grandmother was kidnapped.”
Edward’s eyes widened in shock.
“Those idiots from the police never thought of updating me. They know I’ve been looking into this boy.”
In his heart, Edward protested the use of the word “idiots.” “I think you should give our local police a break, with everything that’s been going on in the streets, the riots and the anarchy.”
“Yea, yea,” the major replied angrily. “Pretty soon you’ll tell me I should be thankful for the fact that they’re even investigating the kidnapping in the first place.”
That was exactly what Edward thought, but he decided there was no point in further fueling the major’s anger. “What do we do now, then?”
The major paused to think. A moment later he picked up the telephone and said, “Connect me to the house of student David Robertson’s family. Yes, that’s right.” He raised his eyes at Edward and added, “To their home telephone.”
55
When the Prophet Will Speak
It was eight thirty in the evening. Outside, a heavy rain poured down.
Emily sat on the living room sofa, unable to stop shivering. Benjamin sat beside her with an arm wrapped around her shoulders.
The television screen showed the newscast. Moses Morse promised that the prophet would not go live that night, and much to everyone’s surprise, he hadn’t.
Morse’s face wore a deadly-serious expression as he returned to implore: “Let us demonstrate to the prophet the firmness of our belief. Only then will he speak again! And I, his loyal representative on this earth, will do my best to influence him so he would act to subdue the hostility on both sides.”
Morse’s words started a heated discussion. Commentators pointedly claimed the man was nothing but a charlatan, using the tense situation for his personal gain.
Morse stood on the stage and carried on. “You can make your credit card donations on the Order of the Prophet’s website, or wire the money directly to the Order’s bank account—the details are now at the bottom of the screen.”
“This man is shameless!” One the of the studio commentators angrily barged in. “When the prophet will finally speak, we’ll know a lot of things. Whether or not the Russians will attack, or things will settle down, and as for that fraud Morse—people will realize they’ve been led astray by the baseless promises of this impostor from Florida.”
Another commentator supported his associate and quoted the famous saying attributed to Einstein: “Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.”
An announcement from the department of defense occasionally interrupted the newscast, with instructions regarding how to act should the air raid siren go off. The most important and lifesaving action would be, of course, to quickly get inside a nuclear shelter.
For Emily and Benjamin Robertson, this was a meaningless instruction. The thought of getting into the shelter had not even crossed their minds, not while Grandma Edna was kidnapped and held in an unknown location, and their sick son roamed the streets in the pouring rain.
Five police officers had knocked on their door about an hour earlier. Emily and Benjamin were hoping to get some new information, but the police officers did not have much to tell them. Instead, they had lots of questions to ask. The Robertsons felt under investigation as they were politely asked: “Does Edna have any enemies? Did she mention something about being afraid for her life? Does David have a quarrel with anyone? Have you noticed anything unusual lately about the behavior of either of them?”
Benjamin felt that the officers had come just to go through the motions.
A few minutes later, three of them had left. Actually, this wasn’t surprising. The situation on the streets verged on insanity and they were called to take care of the rioting outside. Two remained: one male and one female officer. They sat erect, refusing to touch the water glasses on the table.
The female officer was the senior among the two. She finished talking on the phone and turned to the couple. “We’re still checking your mother’s house. There are several investigators on the scene. As soon as we know more, and, of course, should David get there—we will update you immediately.”
Emily said nothing. She merely stared at the officer and took deep breaths.
“Like I said, there were signs of a struggle, but no signs of any injury. One could assume that Edna has been taken from her house unharmed. Which is encouraging,” the policewoman stated. Her partner nodded in agreement.
Benjamin looked at his wife. “Hear that? The experts say that it’s a good sign.”
Emily wiped her eyes and asked the policewoman with a nervous voice, “And our son? What are you doing to find him and bring him back home?”
The policewoman frowned. “Like I said, he received a picture of your mother on his cell phone. Our estimation is that he has left for her house. We were able to track his phone midway to your mother’s house when the signal faded. The battery must have run out, or was taken out of the device. The cell phone could have also gotten wet, or he’s in an area with poor reception…”
Benjamin realized that the Green Pines Police had no real news for them. They knew all that already. “So what are you doing now?” he asked.
The policewoman went through her paperwork. “We’re doing everything we can under the circumstances.”
“When you say ‘under the circumstances,’ you mean that you’re not really investigating this. I understand that everyone thinks that war is coming, but this is an abducted sixty-year-old woman we’re talking about here! I’m sure there’s a lot more you could do. Check with the neighbors, find out if she has enemies, use some of that fancy technology our taxes pay for. If you really wanted to—there’s a lot more you could do.” He went silent, trembling with anger.
The policewoman nodded slowly, as if sympathizing with the plight of the parents. She opened her mouth to answer when the telephone rang.
Emily alertly followed her husband as he hurried to the wall. He picked up the handset and blurted into the phone, “Hello?”
The other three quietly watched him.
A feminine voice sounded from the other end of the line. “Good evening. Mr. Robertson?”
“Speaking.”
“We’re calling from Green Pines High School. Major Lincoln would like to have a word with you.”
“Ok.” Benjamin knew who Major Lincoln was. David had told him about the officer that had set up at their school. What would cause him to call them now? He shrugged at his wife.
A moment later, a masculine voice came on the line. “Good evening, Mr. Robertson. May I call you Benjamin? This is Major Lincoln. Samuel.” A silence settled as Major Lincoln waited for a reply.
“Benjamin’s fine.”
“I’m here with Mr. Castner, the school principal. We’ve heard about what happened. I’m sure this must be a challenging time for you. We hope this entire affair will be finished soon with everyone safe and sound.”
Benjamin didn’t know what to say. He looked at his wife’s questioning eyes. “Thank you,” he muttered.
“Is there any way we can help you?” the major asked.
“I don’t think so. Maybe you could tell the cops to start working already.”
“If you think of anything, don’t hesitate. We’re here and our hearts are with you,” said the major.
“Thank you.” Benjamin wanted to
disconnect the call, but the major spoke again.
“I understand that you have police officers in your house now. They must have asked many questions.”
“That’s right.”
“Did they ask anything about the prophet?”
Benjamin shrugged again. “No. Why would they?”
“Mr. Robertson,” the major answered quietly. “I can’t get into any details, but it’s important for us to know, has your son been showing any interest in the prophet? Has he mentioned, for instance, the Order of the Prophet in any way?”
“I don’t think so. He’s hardly ever interested in the news. What is the meaning of all these questions?”
The major immediately replied in a reassuring tone, “Thank you for your answers. It’s probably nothing.”
Benjamin sighed. “What now, then?”
“Like I said earlier, if you will require any assistance from the school staff or my men stationed here—don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, Major Lincoln,” Benjamin said and disconnected the call.
He and his wife looked at the two police officers. “What do we do now?”
56
A Tin Roof
“Oh, Buffy, stop crying already!”
Rachel spoke softly to her dog. Over the past few hours, she and Paul had scoured every inch of the area surrounding the SOS Pet Rescue shelter. The place was locked up and the lights were out. They heard barking dogs inside, but they discerned no other sound or unusual sights. They circled the place twice, unable to find any clues that might help in finding David or his grandmother.
Buffy was restless. She howled and tugged at her leash. Rachel couldn’t understand why. Normally, her friendly dog would have tried to get inside, closer to the other dogs. Since when did she want to get away from such a place?