by Glenn Cooper
‘We don’t,’ he said. ‘I—’
‘Are you at the School of Engineering?’
‘Actually, I’m at the Divinity School.’
Her tone turned decidedly suspicious. ‘I’m sorry, what is this in regard to?’
‘It’s about Steve Gottlieb.’
The line went quiet. He wasn’t sure if she’d hung up until he heard the sound of a car passing hers.
‘What about him?’
‘Steve contacted me recently,’ Cal said. ‘He told me he wanted to meet to discuss something.’
‘What?’
‘He said it was about the virgins, the Marys.’
There was another pause. He thought she was choosing her words carefully. ‘Why do you think he called you?’
‘I’ve been involved with them. He saw me on TV.’
‘That was you? On 60 Minutes?’
‘It was. I was there, Professor Hartman. I was in the parking lot when his car blew up.’
‘Jesus, you were there?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’
‘Did you speak to him?’
‘I didn’t get the chance.’
He heard her swallowing. Her voice became lachrymal. ‘I don’t know what to say. I don’t understand why you’re calling to tell me this?’
‘Look, I’m not in the least interested in your personal life but—’
‘What are you saying?’
‘His wife, Beth Gottlieb, was going through his papers and found your letters.’
‘Shit. Look, this is none of your business.’
‘I know. It’s something else she found that’s the reason for my call. It was a calendar entry from about eighteen months ago. A telecon at your office with Steve and Randall Anning.’
The line was quiet again.
‘You know who he is, right? The man who’s been funding the New Catholic Church?’
Her nasal passages sounded drier now, her tone formal. ‘I’m sorry, Professor Donovan. I’ve just arrived at my next appointment. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you. Goodbye.’
Anning’s mobile phone rang showing a blocked caller. He had a feeling who it was and what it was about. Some spook somewhere in the alphabet soup of federal agencies had been tasked with anonymously helping him track cell phone calls. First it was Sue Gibney, but she’d gone dark for the past twenty-four hours. Now it was Cal Donovan.
‘Anning.’
‘Mr Anning, he’s made calls to one Massachusetts number and two Connecticut numbers.’
‘Who are they?’
‘The Mass number belongs to a Joseph Murphy.’
Anning grunted. He’d read all about his kidnapping in Ireland. ‘And Connecticut?’
‘One was the Yale School of Engineering, the other was to a Belinda Hartman.’
Anning thanked the caller, put his phone down and snapped his eyes shut.
The sun was getting lower and the western sky was becoming mellow and golden. Sue had arrived at the meeting point two hours early. There wasn’t any point in just driving around aimlessly. She was bone-weary. The girls were tired and the babies were restless, especially JD, who seemed warm to the touch. She felt safe at the parking lot at the Walmart in Midland, which was located just off of I-20. It was bustling with cars and families but at the same time was perfectly anonymous.
Sue didn’t trust the exhaust system of the old van but she needed to keep the AC running in the heat. As she cooled her brood down she kept the windows cracked, fearing carbon monoxide. There wasn’t enough Freon in the pipes to neutralize the hot air so it was still pretty warm inside. She took the girls and their babies, one-by-one, inside the store to properly cool off, use the restrooms and changing facilities, and buy ice creams, cold drinks, and sandwich fixings.
When she took Mary and JD inside, the girl asked Sue to check him again.
‘He’s still warm, isn’t he?’ Mary said.
‘I’m going to buy a thermometer,’ Sue said. She found an infrared thermometer, took it out of its packaging before paying for it and aimed it at the baby’s forehead. His temperature was mildly elevated.
‘He’s got a runny nose,’ Sue said. ‘It’s probably just a cold. Acetaminophen drops should help.’
At the checkout, the cashier looked at the thermometer and the medicine and the baby in Mary’s arms, too intently for Sue’s comfort.
‘Is the little fellow under the weather?’ the cashier said.
‘Just a tad,’ Mary said.
Sue wasn’t pleased that Mary had opened her Irish mouth.
‘What an interesting accent you’ve got, honey?’ the woman said, eyeing her. ‘Where are you from?’
‘She’s Canadian,’ Sue said, handing over some bills.
‘Oh yeah,’ the woman said, nodding and bagging the items. ‘I thought you sounded French.’
Back inside the van, the girls occupied themselves playing with the thermometer, taking readings of everything animate and inanimate within the scope of the beam.
‘How long now?’ Maria Aquino said.
‘Soon,’ Sue said. She checked her watch one more time. Where was he?
The private detectives were keeping to a quarter-mile separation behind Cal. The RV was big and lumbering; there was little danger of losing sight of him.
‘He’s signaling,’ one of them said.
‘Bathroom, food, or bingo?’ the driver said, getting ready to exit too. ‘Let Carling know what’s what.’
Carling had just stubbed out a cigarette and when he got their call, he lit another one. Mr Anning didn’t let people smoke anywhere inside the mansion but down in the basement with his office door closed, Carling took his chances. His ashtray, a Styrofoam cup half-filled with old coffee, was swimming in butts.
He looked at his wall map. ‘Midland, you say? Where the hell’s he meeting up with them anyway?’
‘Could be Mexico,’ the detective on the phone said. ‘Or New Mexico.’
‘Or maybe right here in Texas. Stay on the line and tell me what he’s up to.’
Cal had seen the sign for the Walmart from the highway and headed there from the exit. He had no way of knowing if Sue had even made it there and if so, what she was driving. When she’d called the day before they had hastily sketched out the barest outline of a plan. And once they had agreed on the meeting place he’d chosen from a glance at Google Maps, he’d warned her to turn off her mobile phone and remove the SIM card. Anning seemed like the kind of man who had the resources to find people. All Cal could do was loop around the parking lot with the RV, the equivalent of waving a big old flag.
There were a dozen double rows of parked cars at the front of the store. Cal could only manage to make every other turn in his long rig. He was in the middle of the lot when he spotted an old van flashing brights. He slowed to a crawl as he passed and saw the driver, one extremely happy woman with a long ponytail.
He parked at the end of the row, taking up several empty spaces. Sue pulled in next to him. They got out at the same time. Although they barely knew each other, their spontaneous embrace seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
‘Mr Carling, it’s her!’ the detective said.
‘You sure? You absolutely sure?’
‘It’s definitely Gibney.’
‘The girls. Do you see the girls?’
‘Not yet. They’re probably inside her van. It’s a black Dodge van. Let me try to get the plate for you.’
‘Screw the plate. They’re going to ditch the van for the RV. I don’t want them getting inside the RV. Do you understand?’
‘What do you want us to do?’
‘Stand by and keep this line open, goddamn it.’
Carling put the detective on hold and called up to the library. His boss picked up on the first ring.
‘They just called,’ Carling said. ‘They have eyes on them.’
‘Where?’ Anning said.
‘A Walmart in Midland. What do you want them to do?’
‘Do?
Get them to take the girls and the babies back, for Christ’s sake!’
‘They can’t force them. They’re not law enforcement, they’re private investigators. By state law they aren’t even armed.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Clay, these men we hired are tough guys, no? We’re talking about some teenagers, a midwife and a college professor!’
‘Why don’t we just get the police involved, Mr Anning? We can say they were forcibly taken from the ranch.’
‘I do not want the police involved, Clay. They’ll have to do some kind of investigation at a minimum. We can control the police around here, but the State Police? The local police in Midland? Don’t you forget that Calvin Donovan was there when Gottlieb got killed. I don’t know what he knows or what he thinks he knows at this point. He called Belinda Hartman today! Did you hear me?’
‘I heard you.’
‘No police. Just tell your fellows to strong-arm the girls into their car and drive them back here.’
Carling got back to the detective and gave him a set of instructions. He and his partner listened on the speakerphone. When they pushed back, Carling hit them with an incentive: he’d double the fee for a successful conclusion.
‘If we’ve got to use muscle, Mr Carling, we’re putting our PI licenses in jeopardy,’ the driver said.
‘Triple your fee,’ Carling said.
‘Triple? That’s a deal,’ the driver answered.
The shadows across the parking lot were getting long. The detectives watched from a nearby parking spot as the girls and their babies emerged from the van and climbed into the RV. Cal and Sue started transferring their belongings from the back of the van parked right behind the RV.
‘OK, get the shit from the trunk and let’s move,’ the driver said. ‘I’ll box them in.’
The guy in the passenger seat got out and retrieved a tire iron and a baseball bat from the trunk and climbed back in for the ten-second ride over to the front of the RV. The driver braked hard, slammed the transmission into park and left the car running. Both men jumped out and began menacing Sue and Cal. They were big men. The bat and tire iron made them look larger.
‘We work for the ranch,’ the driver said. ‘We know what you did, Miss Gibney. You kidnapped those girls. We’re taking them back. Bring them and the babies out here and you and your friend won’t get hurt. If you don’t we’ll have to work you over. You’ll both be spending tonight in a hospital and we’ll still bring the girls back where they belong.’
Cal stepped in front of Sue. He was a big man himself but they didn’t look all that intimidated.
‘These girls left because they wanted to leave,’ Cal said. ‘You’d be the ones doing the kidnapping. If Mr Anning thought she’d broken the law it would be the police here, not you.’
The man with the bat pointed it and said, ‘This isn’t a debate, mister. Back the fuck away.’
‘I’m not going to let you take them,’ Cal said, getting ready to take a hell of a beating.
First the guy with the tire iron took one step back. Then a second. The guy with the bat dropped the lumber and also took a couple of steps to the rear.
Cal was feeling pretty damn smug about his ability to intimidate until he looked behind him at Sue, who was pointing a revolver.
‘Get back in your car and get the hell out of our way,’ she said.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ the driver said, holding his hands up a little. ‘Just be careful with that gun, all right.’
‘I want you to give a message to Mr Anning.’
‘Yes, ma’am. I will.’
‘Tell him to go fuck himself.’
Carling ran up the steps to the ground floor of the mansion, the soles of his boots skidding down the marble hall. He flew into the library without knocking.
‘Do we have them?’ Anning said.
‘Sue pulled a gun on them. They got away in the RV.’
‘Where the hell did she get a gun?’
‘Maybe she had one all along. Maybe she got it from the stable guy. I told our guys to keep following them. Do you want to reconsider calling the police?’
Anning got up and took his cowboy hat from an elk antler on the wall. ‘No! Scramble the chopper and bring a rifle. We’re going to take care of this ourselves.’
THIRTY-THREE
As soon as he cleared the parking lot and got back on the highway, Cal floored the RV. It was a sluggish beast but it eventually picked up speed. Sue sat beside him, the pistol resting on her lap, a trembling hand resting on the gun.
‘Where’d you get that?’ Cal asked.
‘A man on the ranch.’
‘I’m glad you had it. Know how to use it?’
‘Mary Riordan taught me.’
He looked at her quizzically.
The girls were splayed out on the bench seats, clutching their babies and trying to make sense of the craziness.
‘Girls, you remember Professor Donovan,’ she said.
They nodded but he wasn’t what they wanted to talk about. They’d just seen Sue pull a gun on some men and now they were throttling down the road in an exotic vehicle with beds and a kitchen.
‘Sue go gun,’ Maria Aquino said.
‘Sue kill fuckers like Mary?’ Maria Mollo asked. Mary Riordan had taught them well.
‘No!’ Sue said. ‘I was just trying to scare them.’
‘It worked,’ Cal said.
Mary Riordan was looking out the large rear window. ‘Excuse me, guys, those blokes are following us.’
Cal confirmed it in the rearview mirror. ‘They look like they’re keeping their distance.’
‘Where are we going?’ Sue asked.
He had his phone on map mode. ‘We’re taking the next exit. We’re going north. To New Mexico.’
‘Home,’ she said softly to herself.
‘We should cross the border in an hour and a quarter,’ he said. ‘We’ll pass through Roswell, avoiding UFOs if possible, then up to Albuquerque.’
‘Why there?’ she asked.
‘I’ve got a colleague at the university who’s going to give the girls sanctuary until we figure out what to do next. I’m thinking about something public, maybe a press conference. I don’t know yet.’
Sue was repeating the word ‘sanctuary’ absently. Then she said, ‘Thank you. I didn’t know who else to call.’
‘I’m part of this now,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you did.’
‘We have to protect them,’ she said. ‘Anning and Pole have turned them into circus performers. And the babies. The beautiful, beautiful babies.’
He checked his mirror again. ‘We’ll protect them.’
She took her hand off the gun and touched one of his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.
Mary saw the gesture and said, ‘I told you, you fancied him.’
‘Oh, Mary,’ Sue said. ‘You and your mouth.’
Maria Mollo asked what fancied meant and Mary made a kissy face and smooching sounds, sending the girls into a fit.
When they had laughed themselves quiet, Sue turned around to try and spot the following car herself.
‘I’m afraid for them,’ she said, too quietly for the girls to hear. ‘Maybe we should call the police. I don’t care if I go to jail.’
‘You’re not going to jail but I don’t think we want Texas police involved. Randall Anning’s got a long reach in this state. Maybe we’d be safe. Maybe we wouldn’t. I’m going to feel a lot better in New Mexico.’
Anning’s AgustaWestland AW189 helicopter was one of the fastest civil models you could buy. It was rated at over 300 kilometers per hour and could carry up to nineteen passengers. With only the pilot, Anning, and Carling on board it felt cavernous and empty. There would be plenty of room to ferry the girls and their infants back to the ranch in speed and comfort.
Carling was in the seat behind Anning and the pilot, keeping up a running dialogue with the two detectives pursuing the RV. Anning had been a nervous flyer since his accident in the Andes, but
he put that out of his mind by focusing on the map display in the cockpit.
‘They’re here,’ Anning said to the pilot, pointing to a spot. ‘State Road 385 heading north toward Seminole. How long before we get to them?’
‘Assuming he stays northbound at the speed limit, I’d say we’re going to intersect with him in about an hour.’
Carling asked, ‘What are we going to do when we get to them?’
Anning turned and dressed him down harshly. ‘You let me worry about that.’
Cal couldn’t get comfortable as long as they were being followed. The road was flat and featureless with little traffic in either direction. There were no trees, no vegetation at all taller than a few inches. It was all stubble and sandy earth. Dusk was coming and the car behind them was easy to keep tabs on, especially when its headlights switched on.
‘What the hell are they doing?’ he asked. ‘They’re keeping a respectful distance but they’re not letting go.’
‘I just want this to be over,’ Sue said. ‘I’m so tired.’
‘You never told me where you live.’
‘Santa Fe.’
‘Nice city.’
‘I love it. I wish I hadn’t left.’
‘The girls would’ve been in a sorrier state if you hadn’t been there for them.’
‘Maybe, but I paid a price. I sold my soul to the Devil.’
‘You mean Anning.’
‘I mean him, all of it.’ She looked over her shoulder to see if the girls were listening. They were in the back, inspecting the bunk beds and the bathroom. ‘What’s going to happen to them?’ she asked.
‘They have families.’
‘They’ll be freaks back home. They’ll never have peace. You know about these things. Did the Virgin Mary have peace? Did people let her be?’
‘The Bible is sketchy on her life. If you believe the accounts in the Gospels, there’s a suggestion she stayed involved with her son throughout his life. She was said to be there when Jesus performed his first miracle, turning water into wine. She was said to be among the women at his crucifixion. There are a few other oblique mentions. Beyond that, there’s nothing.’
She was teary and gulped. ‘Will that happen to the boys? Will they be murdered one day too?’
‘God, Sue, history doesn’t always repeat itself. If they’re really the product of miraculous conception then all I can predict is that they’ll have remarkable and closely watched lives.’