Tod Goldberg - The Reformed

“That went well,” Sam said.

“You think so?” Barry said. “Because I’m covered with blood over here. And, Michael, you didn’t mention anything to me about Fiona wrapping a whip around my throat or cutting me. That was not part of any form of discussion you and I had, Michael, and I’d like you to know that I found both experiences… to put it mildly… upsetting.”

“You loved it,” Fiona said.

“A part of me enjoyed it,” Barry said.

Father Eduardo took his rightful seat behind his desk and dropped his head into his hands.

“Guys,” I said, “can you leave us alone for a minute?”

“Sure, Mikey,” Sam said. “We’ll get Barry cleaned up in the bathroom. And then maybe, Fi, you can show me that little trick with the whip?”

“Why don’t you try something proactive,” I said, “like bugging that empty office next door? Get it ready for Junior’s occupancy.”

When they were gone, I sat down across from Father Eduardo, in the same chair Killa was in prior to my destroying his knee. “I know what I’m doing, Father,” I said.

“I know,” he said. “I know. Ernie, he told me you might make it look like I’m in an impossible situation, but that you would be in control. I just… to see my brother that way. It was hard.”

“I had to show them that I have no fear,” I said.

“No, not that. That I understand. To see him subservient to Junior. To see him give up his own son to him. It made me sick. That’s me there, Michael. That’s what I used to do. I may not have killed directly, but I put that fear of suffering into other people. I have to make that right.”

“You are. Right here.”

“There’s more. There has to be.”

“We’ll figure that out,” I said. “In the meantime, it’s business as usual here. We’ll clear the storeroom next to your office and put Junior in there. We’ll give him a computer and a phone and all of the bugging devices money can buy.”

“How long will he be here?”

I had to think about that. “Two days, if everything goes according to my plan. If he’s still here by the end of the week, that just means we’ve both been murdered.”

Father Eduardo looked stricken.

“Kidding,” I said.

“He’ll come for you,” Father Eduardo said. “That’s his nature.”

“I know,” I said. “He won’t get the chance.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am,” I said. “In the meantime, you need to be in a safe house.”

“I am safe in the Lord’s house,” he said.

“I respect that,” I said, “but I’m the only one who does. Sam will be your shadow for the next few days, but at night, you’re sleeping elsewhere.”

Father Eduardo nodded his assent. “Do you have a secure facility somewhere?”

“You could say that.” I pulled out my cell phone and made a call. “Ma,” I said, “you remember Little Eddie Santiago from the other day? Turns out he’s getting his house fumigated and needs a place to stay for a few nights.”

“Michael,” she said, “is he in danger?”

“Of course, Ma,” I said.

“I thought he was a priest.”

“He is,” I said. “But he’s a priest who needs my help.”

“You lead a very strange life, Michael.”

“I know, Ma. I know,” I said. I checked my watch. “Sam will drop him off in a few hours. That okay?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No,” I said. “You made me get the car washed, remember?”

“You just can’t stop blaming me for one minute, can you?”

“Appears not,” I said. “I appreciate this, Ma. And so does Father Eduardo.”

“I’ll put on some coffee,” she said, and hung up.

“All taken care of,” I told Father Eduardo.

“Fine, fine,” he said. He reached into his desk and pulled out a Bible. “Would you mind leaving me alone for a few moments? I need to pray.”

“Sure,” I said. “Of course.”

“You can let yourself out?”

I told him I could, and then got out of his office as quickly as possible. It was hard to see him as the religious man he was when in my mind he was Eddie Santiago, not Father Eduardo. He was a man to be feared, and now he had the fear of God. It was a turnaround I wasn’t practiced in, and not one I yearned to be overly familiar with.

I found Sam in the empty office, stacking extra Bibles. It was one of strangest things I’d ever seen.

“Take a picture,” Sam said, “before I go up in flames.”

“Where’s Fi?” I said.

“She ran back out to get the bugs. Barry’s in the bathroom, shaking and sobbing quietly.”

“Really?”

“I dunno, Mikey, but he’s not made for hostage situations. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I thought he did well.”

“He’s lucky Junior didn’t plug him.”

“We’re lucky Junior didn’t try to plug all of us.”

“That won’t be the case next time,” Sam said. “How long we planning on pulling this off?”

“Couple of days is all we’ll need. Get him on tape in here, get the counterfeiting operation up and running, which should take only a day if we get some decent plates, and then see about maybe pulling it all together with a police action that doesn’t implicate anyone but Junior.”

“How you planning on doing that?”

“I was thinking of starting out with a Chechnyatype situation in the printing press,” I said, “but without killing anyone.”

“Good luck with that,” Sam said.

“You’ll be helping,” I said.

Fiona stepped back into the office then and set down a small container of bugs. One for the phone; a tracking device on the computer that would clone all of the work Junior did, as well as send cloned e-mails to a private server; and a small camera that would fit inside the spine of one of the Bibles.

“It’s on you, Fi, to put the cameras inside the books,” Sam said.

“Why, Sam, are you afraid?”

“You ever go to Sunday school, Fiona?”

“I grew up in Ireland,” Fiona said. “Maybe you heard of the place? Years of armed religious conflict?”

“Well, wonderful. Then you shouldn’t have a problem with doing things in the name of a greater good with religious icons. Me, it makes me a little nervous. My family came over on the Mayflower.” Neither Fi nor I bothered to respond to Sam. He wanted us to, so we didn’t. “So,” he said, after it became clear to all involved that we weren’t going to engage him on what had to be a lie, “I’m morally disallowed from bugging Bibles. Miles Standish runs through this blood, sister.”

“But shooting people for the last thirty years has been fine?” Fiona said.

“Hey, sweetheart, those were all in the service of this great country,” Sam said. “Or a lot of them, anyway.”

“Michael, I expect that you’ll speak for us at the pearly gates?” she said.

“I’ll do my very best,” I said.

“See, Sam? Nothing to be concerned about,” Fi said. “Oh, and here.” She handed me a sheet of paper with a bunch of numbers listed on it. “Your dirty work.”

“What’s this?”

“The license plate of the police cruiser, as well as the car number from the roof.”

“Nice.”

“I’m a professional, even when I’m saddled with a sweating Chatty Cathy,” Fiona said. “You know, I actually think Barry really did enjoy me cutting him.”

“Everyone is into something strange.” I handed the numbers to Sam. “You got someone you can check these with?”

“I’ll have to tread delicately here, Mikey. One wrong step, and these guys are on to our operation.”

“I know you’ll find just the right person,” I said. “Maybe you can use your standing as a founding father of the country to sway the right people.”