Selena Kitt - Grace

He laughed, a sad, bitter thing. “I made a deal with the devil. I sold my soul for vengeance.”

“But how did you end up in all… all this?” Leah asked, watching him gather the photos and put them back in the box.

“I called the man who had been my commanding officer during the war, who now had a high ranking position in what used to be the Office of Strategic Services. He was now the head of the Special Activities Division of the Central Intelligence Bureau.”

“The CIA?”

“Yes. I told him about the photograph and the priest who was threatening to reveal it. I also told him about the rituals, the abuse of young girls, and told him the church was filming these events and selling them to very rich collectors.”

“They were?” Leah gaped at him. “How did you know that?”

“Susan and Patty showed one to me, about two weeks before my wife died. You see, I didn’t believe her, about the Mary Magdalenes. It sounded…”

“Crazy?”

He glanced over at her. “Doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Of course it did. Who would believe such a thing?

“He said he was very interested, and he believed his friend, J. Edgar Hoover at the F.B.I would most definitely take an interest in such activity. He told me to sit tight and he’d call me back.”

“And then?” Leah prompted when Rob trailed off, staring into space.

He shook his head to clear it. “He got back to me about a week later and said the F.B.I. and specifically J. Edgar Hoover himself was particularly interested in the filming of the rituals and the selling of pornography. They wanted me to continue to find out as much as I could. He asked if I thought I could gather intel, and I told him I was pretty sure I could arrange that.”

“To what end?”

Rob looked at her. “They wanted to gather enough evidence to close it down.”

“Magdalene House?”

“The church.”

Leah gasped. “The entire Catholic Church?”

“From the top down.”

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“I did what I was ordered to do. I gathered evidence. I shut up and took pictures. I filmed the rituals. I took still photographs of girls for the ‘art books’ you found under my developing table in there. The church sells them for a tidy profit on the black market. Many of those girls would go on to become Magdalenes in their rituals.”

“Why did Father Patrick let you do that? He obviously didn’t trust you and had plenty of reason to resent you.”

“I had far more reason to resent him,” Rob replied darkly. “It was like the Cold War between us. I knew too much about him and he knew too much about me-or he thought he did. The longer our relationship, the more he began to rely on me. That’s the way intel works. People trust the familiar, the things they see every day. I simply offered my services, and he accepted.”

“Well… don’t you have enough evidence now?” Leah asked. “Can’t you tell him, your contact, whoever he is… can’t you tell him it’s time?”

“It’s not time. Not quite.” He smiled sadly, taking her hand. “The ritual that Erica participated in-” He choked over those words, clearing his throat. “It’s a yearly event in each Mary Magdalene chapter, but once every ten years they do that same ritual in Rome. Father Patrick facilitates. They do it on years ending in eight, something about the eight beatitudes. They even hold the ritual in an octagon built under the city.”

Leah remembered the tunnels under the church at St. Mary Magdalene’s leading to the circle in the center with all the cubbies on the sides where naked bodies writhed on red or white pillows. It wasn’t a circle after all-it was an octagon.

“And, of course, the eight on its side is the symbol for infinity. These are their biggest rituals, the most well-attended, by the highest of church officials. Including, so I hear, the Pope himself. They had one in 1918, 1928, 1938-that’s the one Patty and Susan participated in-and then again in 1948. The next one will be…”

“1958.”

“Next year.”

“Oh my God.”

“I think Father Patrick has his sights set on Erica for next year’s ten-year ritual.” Rob’s jaw tightened as he considered this. “I don’t intend to let that happen, but regardless, I do know that I have to film it. I need that evidence.”

“But Rob, you can’t keep doing this!” Leah protested. “If someone finds out before then, you’re going to get stuck holding all of this… and the picture of you in that Nazi uniform will just be the icing on the cake.”

“It’s just a little longer, Leah.” He put his arms around her. “Hang on with me a little longer. I’ve been doing this for five years, gathering evidence for five years . If I reveal what I know now, yes there will be a scandal, but the church will have time to cover it up. Trust me, they are very, very powerful. It has to go all the way to the top in order to for us to bring it down.”

“Oh my God.” She buried her face against his chest, unable to take it all in. She didn’t like it, any of it, but she understood what he was saying. “I feel trapped. Like there’s no way out.”

“There is.” He rocked her, kissing the top of her head. “I promise you.”

“So Erica really is my sister.” Leah tried this on for size. They’d always been like sisters. No wonder they’d never wanted to be apart. If Leah wasn’t at the Nolans then Erica was at Leah’s. They’d always been inseparable. They could never stay mad at each other for long. It made perfect sense, in hindsight.

“Yes.” He stroked her hair. “You get tell her. Unless you want me to do it?”

“No, I’ll do it. She’s too mad at you right now.” Leah pulled away, frowning at him. “So…my mother was never really in love with you?”

“No. She was in love with my wife.” He smiled sadly. “I think some part of her died with Susan.”

“But she always talked about you,” Leah said, shaking her head and putting her arms around him again. Had her mother really been in love with another woman? “Said you were such a catch.”

“It was a cover, I guess,” he said, holding her close. “She’s never remarried. She doesn’t date. I think she’s had to pretend so long, maybe some part of her believes it. I don’t know.”

A thought suddenly occurred to her and she asked, “Did my mother know what they were going to do to Erica?”

“You mean the operation?”

“Yes.” The operation. That made it sound so simple. They had taken her-Leah’s sister, her twin -a young, healthy, trusting little girl, and gutted her like a fish.

“Patty told me, after Susan died, that my wife did it without her knowledge. Father Patrick had it all arranged. Your mother didn’t know, not until it was too late,” Rob replied, his eyes dark with anger. “My wife betrayed both of us for that pompous old pervert. She made a promise to Patty she wouldn’t ever let Erica join the Mary Magdalenes that she never intended to keep.”

“I just don’t understand her,” Leah said finally.

“Susan?” Rob gave a short, little laugh. “I thought I knew her. But I was wrong. They say love is blind, but it’s not. It’s not blind or deaf-it’s dumb. We still see and hear everything, we just don’t ever say so. Love makes forget who we are without that other person. ”

“I meant my mother,” Leah said, considering his words. “Not Susan. I really don’t understand either of them.”

“Don’t be too hard on your mother. It can be exhausting to keep a secret.”

She shrugged. “I suppose.”

Rob squeezed her tightly. “When you have to hide who you really are to the world, you create a shell around yourself over time. A painted on coating of lies. It becomes your shield…and your prison.”