David Morrell - The Covenant Of The Flame

The force of circumstance,' the stranger said. 'And now, I'm afraid, it's time.' He gestured toward a phone on the dust-covered desk. 'Begin. Call your father's contacts. Demand their assistance. Tell them how helpless you are. Make them feel guilty because of their responsibility for your father's death. Among those who respond, at least one of them will be - '

The man who'd driven Priscilla to the clinic interrupted, 'This might be important. In the van coming back, we monitored the news on the radio. The fire and the corpses at the house in Washington are being linked to last night's fire, the identical tactics, the similar massacre in Alexandria. The police are…'

The stranger bristled. 'I don't care about the police. The phone, Tess. Pick up the phone. Call your - '

'Not just yet,' Craig said. 'I promised the police chief in Alexandria that I'd keep in touch.'

'That promise will have to wait.'

'Wrong. If I don't phone to reassure him, my career is finished. I could go to prison for failing to cooperate in a felony investigation. That's assuming I manage to stay alive, of course. I mean, why be optimistic? But I like my work. I'd like to keep doing it. However, there's one thing I don't like – not knowing the name of someone I talk to.'

'My name? A mere formality. It isn't important.'

'To me, it is.'

'Then call me…' The stranger hesitated. 'Yes. Call me "Father Baldwin".'

'Are you sure you don't want to make it Father Smith or Father Jones?'

'I believe "Father Baldwin" will do.'

'But it's not quite appropriate. Am I wrong, or do I sense a vague European accent? French perhaps?'

'Lieutenant, you finally asked one question too many. Pick up the phone. Reassure the Alexandria police chief, if that's what you feel is necessary for Tess to conduct her mission. Simply tell him you haven't been able to contact her yet. There's no need to worry about the call being traced. A black box routes the transmission through London and Johannesburg.'

'Thorough. I'm impressed.'

'We try. But then, after all, we've had hundreds of years of practise.'

'It shows.' Craig pulled a slip of paper from a pocket of his rumpled suitcoat. He studied a number he'd written on the paper, picked up the phone, and dialed.

At the same time, Father Baldwin pressed a button that activated a microphone, allowing everyone to monitor the call. Tess listened to static, to the click of long-distance relay switches, then a buzz as the call arrived in Alexandria.

Another buzz.

A man's voice answered. 'Chief Farley's office.'

'This is Lieutenant Craig from Missing Persons at NYPD. I believe he's expecting my call.'

'Damned right he is. Hang on.'

Click. More static.

Craig had been put on hold. He glanced at the man who called himself Father Baldwin. Then he reached to put his arm around Tess. 'I know it's tough, babe. Just stay calm.'

'If anyone else had called me that,' Tess said.

'It's what my father called my mother.'

'In that case, it sounds wonderful.'

Click.

'Chief Farley here. Where the hell have you been? I expected you to phone…'

'I know. A couple of hours ago. The trouble is, I haven't been able to find…"

'Theresa Drake. She's not my problem anymore. My men are still trying to make sense of what happened at her mother's house last night. The Washington police had a similar attack in their jurisdiction this afternoon. They want to know if the two are connected. But what I want to know is how the hell did the FBI get involved?'

'What?'

'They weren't invited, and I can't think of a reason why Melinda Drake's murder should be their business.'

At the mention of her mother, Tess winced.

'The FBI?' Craig said.

'Eric Chatham – the Bureau's director himself – got in touch with me shortly after noon. He wants to talk to Theresa Drake. National security. Top priority. Confidential. Blah, blah, blah. Hey, I'm good at my job, and when an outsider tries to tell me how to… Never mind. I explained my arrangement with you. Now it's out of my hands. I have orders – high level government orders – to instruct you to forget about banging Theresa Drake to me and instead to phone Chatham. Three times this afternoon, he called to find out if I'd heard from you, to remind me to tell you to contact him at once. Immediately. Craig, what in Christ's name is going on?'

'Chief, I swear I wish I knew.'

Then, you'd damned well better find out. As Chatham says, now . The last thing I need is trouble from the FBI.'

'I hear you.'

'Well, while you're at it, hear this , Craig. Some day, you and I will meet, and you'd better be prepared to explain. Take my word, you don't want me pissed off at you. Because I'm a vindictive son of a bitch, and I'll make sure your captain's pissed off at you as well.'

'I repeat, I hear you.'

'What a holy hell surprise. Someone's actually taking orders from me instead of giving them to me. Phone Chatham. Here's his private number.'

Craig wrote it down.

'Get that bureaucrat off my tail,' Farley said. 'So I can do my job. So I can find out who murdered Melinda Drake!'

'I promise. It'll be taken care of.' Troubled, Craig set down the phone.

'So,' Father Baldwin said, 'it's already started.'

Tess frowned in amazement. 'You think Eric Chatham's part of the group that's trying to kill me?'

'Possibly. I told you they'd risen to top positions. But this might be coincidental,' Father Baldwin said. 'Did Chatham know your father?'

'Very well.'

Then he might be acting out of loyalty, to try to protect you.'

Tess raised her hands, intensely frustrated. 'There's just one problem with that logic.'

'Oh?' Father Baldwin waited.

'Only the enemy knew I was at my mother's house last night.'

'Not true. There was Brian Hamilton, and of course, my associates.'

'But Brian Hamilton's dead!' Tess said. 'My point hasn't changed. The Alexandria police chief learned I was being hunted because Craig told him. But how did Chatham find out?'

Father Baldwin's eyes blazed. 'You're suggesting he received his information from the men who attacked your mother's house and failed to capture you?'

'It certainly makes sense to me,' Craig said.

'Perhaps.' Father Baldwin shook his head. 'But what troubles me is that the connection's so obvious. Since twelve forty-four and the vermins' escape from Montsegur, the heretics have survived because of their talent for hiding. Over the centuries, they've greatly improved their ability to deceive. If Chatham is an enemy, would he take the risk, would he violate his training and draw suspicion to himself by acting so directly?'

'If he and his group felt desperate enough.' Tess pivoted toward a religious painting, then whirled back toward Father Baldwin. 'By calling Chief Farley and insisting that the FBI take over, Chatham has already accomplished part of their goal. They want to kill me because of the photographs and what I know. But this way, I still haven't been able to tell the authorities.'

Father Baldwin didn't answer for a moment. 'You may be right. But there's only one way to learn.'

Tess breathed. 'Yes. To call him.' Apprehensive, she reached for the sheet of paper upon which Craig had written Chatham 's phone number.

'Wait,' Father Baldwin said.

'A minute ago, you were urging me to…'

'The situation's changed. Now that we've isolated a possible target, I need to teach you how to react to what Chatham tells you. Meanwhile, other arrangements have to be made. They're mundane but necessary.'

'What do you mean?'

'It's after seven.'

'So what?'