The Cold Smell Of Sacred Stone

18

"Nine-six-seven-forty.''

"This is Robert Frederickson. I must speak with Mr. Lippitt immediately. This is Valhalla priority."

There was a whir, a click, another whir, and then Mr. Lippitt came on the line. "What is it, Mongo?"

"Tommy Carling is a K.G.B. officer, Lippitt. He was Slycke's controller, and maybe the man who entrapped the good doctor in the first place. The man's a virtuoso spy, and he's been playing me like I was the entire Guarneri Quartet."

There was a pause of a beat or two. "You're certain of this, Mongo?"

"I'm certain there's a woman posing as a nun in this operation who's been working with a most unholy devotion at having me killed from the moment Garth began to respond to stimuli. I say that makes her K.G.B., just like the two operatives who'd been planted at Prolix. She had to be plugged into everything that was happening up in the clinic-but she wasn't actually there. Someone else was."

"Slycke."

"Sure, Slycke; but he'd been set up from the beginning to be the fall guy in order to mask the real spider up there. I hear from someone whose opinion in these matters I trust that Carling and this woman are close buddies, and have been for some time. I say that makes Carling K.G.B. too. When you start to noodle that possibility, a lot of very scary things begin to fall into place.

"From the very first time Garth began to show any signs of awareness, Carling planned to cut me out so that he'd have Garth all to himself, without any interference from me. He certainly knew about Mama Baker's pathological hatred of dwarfs, and on the very first day I walked in there he set up the situation where Baker would know who-and what-I was, and kill me if he ever got the chance. But first Carling tried to kill me by having his girl friend manipulate a psychotic kid from the children's hospital. When that failed, and when I countered his move to have me barred from the clinic by filing a seventy-two-hour notice for Garth's release, he set up the trap in the clinic, with Slycke as the sacrificial bait. He'd removed Garth the night before, along with Marl Braxton-probably for the reason he gave me: Garth wouldn't leave without Braxton. It was Carling who doped up the patients before forcing Slycke to call me. Then he let everybody loose, ambushed me, and left me up in the clinic to die. The way he figured it, he'd be able to observe Garth's behavior at his leisure-and maybe run a few drug experiments of his own-without any interference from anyone. He fooled me good, Lippitt."

"Us, too-if you're right."

"I'm right. He knew you'd get the goods on Slycke, and assume that was the end of the matter. Incidentally, the phony nun I mentioned-"

"I assume you're talking about Sister Kate," Lippitt interrupted in a somewhat distant tone.

Stunned, it took me a few seconds to react. "How the hell do you know she calls herself Sister Kate?!"

Again, there was a pause. I'd known the answer to my question almost as soon as I'd asked it. Lippitt was thinking about something else-probably the same thing I was thinking about. When he finally spoke, I could hear the tension-and a trace of fear, for Garth-in his voice.

"We began monitoring the situation as soon as we found out where Garth, Braxton, and Carling were, Mongo."

"You've got a man in there."

"Yes. The circumstances of Garth's illness and behavior have always had national security implications, as you're well aware."

"Sure. But you might have told me you had somebody keeping an eye on him."

"Perhaps you're right-although I'm not sure what difference it would have made. The two of you were obviously estranged from each other. I care a great deal for Garth personally, but he didn't appear to be in any danger. The D.I.A.'s concern was professional."

"Yeah, okay." I paused, shook my had as I recalled Tommy Carling's words when I had asked him about financing for the reconstruction of the bathhouse. "God provides, bullshit," I continued tightly. "It's the K.G.B. which has been providing. I love it; Russian taxpayers have been paying to help feed New York City's hungry and homeless. We'll probably never know for certain how much of this business that's grown up around Garth was spontaneous, and how much was engineered by the Russians. Do you think the K.G.B. knocked off those two TV preachers, just to get the ball rolling a little faster?"

"It's quite possible, maybe even probable. We both know there are assassination techniques that will mimic strokes, or cause them. I don't see that it makes any difference, or why they bothered-if they did. Even before those sanctimonious cretins kicked off, the K.G.B. had everything going for them. At the beginning, they were able to monitor firsthand the effects of a new and potentially very powerful mind-control agent. Tommy Carling observed this closely, and then improvised brilliantly-I wish he worked for me. Now he and this woman have virtually complete control of a worldwide messianic religious movement which has its roots in the United States."

"Carling also picked up on a few very sensitive secrets along the way."

"Indeed," Lippitt said distantly. He was thinking again.

"How tightly wrapped is the cover story about Orville Madison dying in a hunting accident?"

"Pretty tight. What they've learned about Madison or the Valhalla Project isn't important right now."

"Agreed."

"Do you know about Garth's disappearance, and the announcement he's supposed to make tomorrow night?"

"Yes. I had a lengthy chat with Harry August-which is how I got on to Carling and the woman."

"Could Harry August be K.G.B.?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm aware that August's claim that Garth healed him really kicked off the whole thing, but he had his own reasons. He's just a very sad human being, not a K.G.B. plant."

"Mongo," Lippitt said tersely, "you must make every effort to find Garth and take him out. Before tomorrow night."

"My thoughts exactly. You agree that he's in danger?"

"Most definitely."

"This business about Garth going into retreat to prepare himself for some announcement that he really is the Messiah is bullshit; it's contrary to everything Garth has said and done up to this point."

"Precisely."

"It's why I called; I was hoping you could help me. Does your man have any idea where Carling could be keeping Garth?"

"No-and he's not in a position to find out, even if it were a good idea for him to risk exposure by pressing for information. He started off as just another guy on an air mattress, and now he wears a green jacket."

"Who is he?"

"Mongo, because of who you are and what we've been through, I'll tell you-but only if you insist."

"You don't want to?"

"No. The information won't help you. He's doing everything he can do right now to find out where Garth is being kept, and for him to be seen talking to you might totally destroy his effectiveness. It might even be a death warrant for him. I also think it could be extremely dangerous for you even to go there. Whatever the K.G.B. is planning, it's very close to the witching hour; Carling and the woman will be extremely watchful to make sure their plans aren't upset at the last moment. He's already tried to kill you twice before; this time, if you show up out of the blue after so many weeks and he even begins to suspect that you're on to him, he might decide to kill you out of hand. What excuse could you give for going there?"

"For Christ's sake, Lippitt," I said, feeling my frustration and fear winding up like a mainspring, "Carling and the woman are probably the only people who know where Garth is! How the hell am I supposed to find my brother if I don't confront them?!"

This time there was a very long pause, and I could hear the Director of the Defense Intelligence Agency breathing heavily on the other end of the line. He was thinking again … to no avail. "I don't have an answer for you, Mongo," he said at last in a very low voice. "Your death would upset me."

"I appreciate your thinking about me, Lippitt, but that still isn't an answer. I was thinking of walking in there and sticking a gun in Carling's ear."

"It wouldn't work, Mongo-and after you've given it some thought, you'll know it won't work. Both Carling and the woman are K.G.B., which means they're as tough as they come. Neither one will tell you what you want to know-and that's assuming you could get one or both alone, which may be a false assumption at this point."

"I'll get them alone-and I'll blow their brains out if they don't tell me where they've got my brother."

"In which case, you'd almost certainly end up blowing their brains out-and that wouldn't get Garth out of danger. You don't know how many K.G.B. soldiers Carling and the woman may have around them in there, and you don't know what contingency plans they may have. At the very least, you'd tip your hand. I've told you I don't know what way you should go, but I'm sure that isn't it-not yet. We still have a little over twenty-four hours to try other ways."

I screwed my eyes shut, sucked in a deep breath, slowly let it out. "You think they plan to kill him, don't you, Lippitt?"

"After hearing what you've told me. . yes."

"But, damn it, why would they want to kill him now? Like you said, they have control of a global religious movement. Talk about. . killing … the Golden Goose!"

"But they've never had control of Garth, Mongo. Also, if I read my history correctly, the death of the central figure in any messianic movement always solidifies that movement. Even after Jesus' crucifixion, it was a whole lot of years before Paul produced the writings that would form the basis of Christianity. I don't see the Russians being that patient. The K.G.B. may be thinking of solidifying their gains right now, taking over the whole operation by removing their one potential threat-Garth himself. I wouldn't be surprised if Harry August was also on their hit list. I think a more interesting question is why they felt Garth had to disappear days before this supposed announcement."

I thought about it, suddenly felt short of breath. "You think the drug could have finally worn off, Lippitt? You think Garth could be Garth?"

"It would explain what seems to be a lot of hurried action, and also the disappearance." Lippitt paused, continued quietly, "There's something else you should know, Mongo."

"What's that?"

"Two Mossad agents who'd been seeded into Garth's People are also missing."

"The Mossad?! What the hell. .?"

"The United States is not the only country for which the phenomena surrounding Garth have presented difficulties, Mongo."

"Right," I said, and sighed bitterly. "Having a live, loose Messiah traipsing around the countryside is a real pain in the ass from a national security viewpoint, isn't it?"

"For every country in which the movement exists and is strong, yes. Because of the very nature of its existence, there's been a tremendous amount of turmoil in Israel over Garth and Garth's People. Although I'm certain that many other countries have intelligence operatives planted, it was the Mossad operatives who were recognized by my man. They disappeared the same time as Garth. In effect, all the intelligence agencies have been sort of war-gaming against God, predicting and taking steps to prevent political problems caused by a Messiah who might say the wrong things or motivate people to behave in a way that was not in a particular country's political, social, or economic best interests. The Russians, in their war-gaming, would have realized early on that they were in a unique position to create political problems, perhaps on a massive scale. And that could explain why the Mossad agents disappeared-the Russians recognized them too."

"Oh shit, Lippitt. You think that's what Carling plans to do?!"

"I think it's not beyond the realm of possibility."

"That's insane."

"Not if you're war-gaming this thing for the Russians. The Soviets always fish in troubled waters. Garth is perceived by many people as a Messiah-by many Christians, as the Second Coming of Christ. If Jews, specifically the Israelis, can be blamed for the death of this Messiah, it will have a disastrous impact not only on Israel's relations with the rest of the world, but with our relations as well. The entire western alliance could be sent into disarray, with Israel ending up even more isolated and condemned. Those are the benefits the Russians could reap if they kill Garth, and somehow manage to pin it on those two Mossad agents."

"Lippitt, what the hell am I going to do?!"

"I really don't know, Mongo," the old man said, real pain in his voice. "I just wanted you to be aware of all the dimensions of the danger to Garth, as I see them. We'll be doing all we can, and we'll have our people there tomorrow night when Garth is scheduled to make his announcement. But I'm afraid that if we can't find Garth before then, it may be too late."

"I've got to go, Lippitt," I said tightly. "I've got some heavy thinking to do; I've got to think of some valid excuse for walking into that bathhouse."

"Yes. Mongo?"

"What?"

"Go with God."