Blood Atonement (26 page)

There was only one person there, sipping bottled water, reading a newspaper. A blonde woman in jeans, trainers and a black zip-up jacket, heavily made up, boldly attractive.

‘Donna?’

Nigel asked tentatively.

The woman looked up, then flashed a broad smile of perfect white teeth. She stood up. She was tall, maybe the same height as him. ‘Nigel!’ she exclaimed. ‘Nigel Barnes!’

He smiled and was about to hold out his hand when she embraced him, planting a kiss on his right cheek. ‘It’s good to meet you.’ She looked him up and down. ‘I love the jacket. Very professorial,’ she added, nodding.

‘Thanks,’ Nigel said. ‘Pleasure to meet you, too.’

‘It’s great to put a face to the voice.’ She flashed her full beam grin. You’re as cute as your accent. How was the flight?’

‘Er, long.’ He turned to Heather, who was standing a few feet behind him, the curious smile back on her lips.

‘This is Detective Inspector Heather Jenkins.’

They shook hands, agreeing it was good to meet each other.

‘Thanks for helping,’ Nigel added. You really didn’t need to …’

What the hell,’ she said, waving away his protest. She leaned forward conspiratorially. Always glad to be a guide through the evil empire,’ she whispered.

Nigel smiled. The Mormon Church’s tentacles extended into every nook and cranny of genealogy - libraries, websites, publications. No other group was anywhere near as powerful. But no other group made the pursuit of family history a cornerstone of their religion.

‘Keep that one quiet, honey. The walls have ears,’ she said and winked. ‘Anyway, what’s your plan?’

We’re going to check if they’ve got the request and see if they’ll hand the material over. Shall we meet you back here later?’ Heather said.

Donna shrugged. ‘Sounds good. If I’m not here, I’ll be on this floor. Just holler — quietly, of course.’

They turned to go.

‘Fascinating woman,’ Heather said, as they made their way to the special collections desk. Wonder how early she has to get up in the morning to put that lot on her face?’

They reached the second floor, much less crowded than the one they’d left. The special collections desk was in the far corner of the room. It was manned by a nervous, balding man in his mid-forties, wearing a pair of thick dark glasses. ‘Edward,’ his name badge said. Heather performed the introductions. A fax has been sent ahead of us about our request for information?’ she added.

The man look nonplussed. ‘Hold with me just a second,’

he said, and disappeared behind a door. A minute or so later he returned, brandishing a piece of paper. ‘I have the request here.’

‘Excellent,’ Heather said.

He furrowed his brow. ‘There’s just one problem.

Actually, make that two problems. You can’t access the information as it stands.’

Nigel sensed Heather bristle.

‘As what stands?’

‘To enter the special collections to access this information, you need a valid LDS temple recommend.’

‘How do we get one of those?’

Are either of you a member of the LDS Church?’

‘No,’ Heather said, trying to suppress a snort of

laughter.

‘Then, broadly speaking, you won’t be able to get a temple recommend and enter the special collections.’

‘Can’t you just bring it out here?’ Nigel could see Heather’s patience, frayed by missing a night’s sleep, was about to break.

Edward shook his head slowly. ‘No. You need to enter the special collections.’

Heather leaned forward against the desk. ‘Can I just clear something up? The material we want to see could be of great help in an ongoing murder investigation. We have flown all the way from the United Kingdom because we were told the material would be handed to us on special request. We have made that request. Now you’re telling us, after we’ve flown all this way, that the material we need, that could help us find a killer, is actually unavailable because we’re not members of the LDS Church?’

‘I see your predicament, ma’am, and I sympathize. It is not my decision but —’

‘Let me guess,’ Heather snapped. You’re just following orders?’

Well, yes …’

‘Look, I appreciate all that. Can I speak to someone in a position of authority? I’ve flown all the way from England and I’m not going anywhere until I get to see that material.’

Edward nodded. “I’ll go and see if anyone’s available.

Hold right there.’ He disappeared behind his door.

Heather turned round, seething. ‘Can you fucking

believe this?’ she said, shaking her head. Nigel didn’t know what to say. Already his mind was listing other ways they might be able to get hold of those newspapers. He came up blank.

‘Blousey Brown downstairs, can she help?’

Who?’

Who do you think? Avon calling. Your friend, Donna.’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I very much doubt it.’

‘Go and metaphorically holler for her, see if she’s a member. See if she knows anyone who is and has one of these recommend things.’

Nigel trudged back downstairs to the main floor, and immediately ran into Donna speaking to someone next to a vast bank of microfilm readers. She saw him approaching, patted her fellow conversationalist on the shoulder and switched her smile to full dazzle. She radiated health.

Next to her, crumpled after a day of travel, still wearing the same clothes he had left London in, Nigel felt grotty and unkempt.

‘Couldn’t keep away, huh?’

‘No, we actually need your help right now. They won’t give us access without something called a temple recommend.’

‘Special

collections? It’s in there, is it? I didn’t know

that. I thought they’d bring it to the front desk for collection.’

The smile disappeared. You sure?’

‘The guy up there has told my colleague she needs a temple recommend to see the material.’

She let out a low whistle and creased her brow. ‘That’s strange. It shouldn’t be in there.’

Why not?’

‘Special collections is for Mormon eyes only. Church members use it to look up their dead ancestors who were LDS and check out ceremonies carried out in temple, baptism for the dead, sealing ceremonies, that kind of stuff. Not newspaper reports. I smell a lot of a rat.’

‘Do you know anyone who has a temple recommend?’

‘Sure. I do.’

Nigel almost performed a double take. For a few

seconds, words failed him.

Donna sensed his incredulity. ‘I take it you didn’t have me down as a Mormon?’

No, he thought. You’ve done nothing but flirt with me since I arrived. You wear make-up. You’re attractive. I thought all these things were antithetical to Mormonism.

‘I hadn’t presumed …’ he stuttered.

She put her hand up. ‘It’s OK. We have an image

problem. But be assured, not all Mormon women are dull kewpie-doll housewives. I think some Mormon men

would like us to be, but there’s still room for individualism.’

She put her hands on her hips. ‘Not much, though.

Especially if you’re a working single parent, and a divorcee.

But enough of that crap. Take me to where your friend is.’

They made their way to the second floor where Heather was deep in conversation with a different gentleman, this one in a suit, exuding more authority than the last. His face bore the simpering look of someone trying to be sympathetic while remaining obstinate. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Nigel and Donna approaching, and a mote of panic crept across his bland features. Nigel could hear Heather’s diatribe.

‘You’re obstructing a police investigation. One that may well lead to the death of more people. Does the Mormon Church really want blood on its hands?’ she said.

‘Hell, no,’ Donna said. ‘We have quite enough of that already’

Heather furrowed her brow; gave Donna a quizzical

look. The ‘we’ and its revelation that she was a Mormon obviously came as a big surprise, as it had to Nigel.

Donna ignored her, concentrated on the man in the

suit. ‘Todd.’

‘Donna.’ The look of panic spread.

‘These people are our guests here. They’ve come a long way. They’re working on important business, like the lady told you. Cut them a break, huh?’

He shrugged. ‘Donna, I don’t make the rules. They

need a temple recommend.’

‘I have one,’ she said. ‘I’m working for these guys. Ain’t that right?’

‘It sure is,’ Heather said, nodding.

‘So move along and get this information ready for these good people to take a look at.’

‘OK,’ he said and trudged away.

‘Thanks for that,’ Heather said, and Nigel could tell she truly meant it.

‘Not a problem. I have a fifteen-year-old daughter. I wouldn’t want any petty religious bureaucracy getting in the way of anyone finding her. Plus, I’m intrigued. Just what the hell has all this to do with the Mormon Church?’

Heather leaned against a table. ‘When you said back then that the Mormon Church had enough blood on its hands, what did you mean?’

Donna smiled. ‘My Church was established in frontier land America. It was a bloody, lawless place and the founders did what they could to survive and prosper. Not all of it good. Not that the current Church leaders would care to admit it. I’m different. I’m a genealogist like Nigel here. I embrace the past and all its imperfections rather than seeking to airbrush it. My guess is that the newspaper reports you’re seeking don’t paint the Church in a particularly flattering light, so someone is making it as difficult as possible for anyone to find them.’

Todd returned, not without trepidation. He had a

moustache that even appeared to droop apologetically.

He clapped his hands together softly and took a deep breath. ‘There’s a problem.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ drawled Donna.

‘What is it?’ Heather asked, attempting to cloak her impatience, unsuccessfully.

‘The material you require isn’t held at the library’

There was a pause as they digested this information.

Heather spoke. ‘Where is it then?’

‘It exists only as an original copy’

‘It’s never been microfilmed?’ Donna asked.

Todd shook his head.

‘So it’s not even at the granite mountain vault?’

Again Todd shook his head.

‘But we were told the LDS Church had the material,’

Heather said, nonplussed. ‘That’s why we’re here.’

‘I believe the Church does have copies,’ Todd said.

‘Where are they then?’

‘I’m afraid that information is classified.’

Nigel could contain his anger no longer. ‘A newspaper is a matter of public record,’ he spat out. ‘You can’t confiscate it, change history, not unless you’re a bloody Stalinist.’

Todd looked at him impassively, soaking it up like a

human sponge.

It merely served to further enrage Nigel. ‘This is censorship, pure and unadorned. I thought this was supposed to be the Land of the Free? Or does that not apply to the

Mormon Church?’

Todd looked at Nigel, waiting for him to finish. There was an awkward silence. He drew himself up taller. ‘I’m sorry, but any complaints you have must be taken up with the Church authorities.’

He turned on his heels and scurried away to his office

hideout.

They sat in silence at a cafe two blocks from the library.

All of a sudden Nigel was feeling the effects of missing a night’s sleep, as if he was wearing a hat of lead. He hoped the coffee would help. He could see Heather was seething.

A girl was missing, and they had flown halfway across the world to obtain a lead that might help find her, yet they had been thwarted by the clandestine practices of the Church of Latter-day Saints. Donna appeared to sense their resentment.

‘My Church has got a lousy sense of what constitutes good PR,’ she drawled, ruby-red lips blowing gently on her decaff latte, creating a rippling effect across its foamy top. ‘It’s an endless source of frustration to those of us who believe in openness and honesty. But the hierarchy has a somewhat paranoiac view of our Church’s past.’

‘Why?’ Nigel asked. He couldn’t see what could be

served by squirrelling away documents that were part of the public record.

‘We’re a modern religion. The Mormon Church was

founded at the start of the era of civil registration, which means there’s a host of documents that people can look at, some of which can be used to question Church orthodox history. Then you have newspapers that print inconvenient things. I don’t recall Jesus or Mohammed having to deal with the press. Things you didn’t know about can turn up and cause people to dispute the accepted view of events. And, rather than saying, “Shit, do your worst — we believe it, we think this is a religion worth following and so do ten million new folks every year across the globe,”

the culture is to hush things up, get your mitts on anything remotely critical of the Church, or which presents an unkind view, and hide it away from prying eyes. It’s self defeating, because most of these documents and records appear in one form or another. Nigel and I know you can’t sit on the past. It has a way of leaking out, like blood through sand.’

‘Amen to that,’ Nigel said. ‘The past cannot be denied.’

“In which case,’ Heather said, perking up, ‘there must

be somewhere where these newspaper reports still exist.’

‘I’m sure they do,’ Donna said. ‘But y’all don’t have the time. Unless.’

‘Unless what?’

‘I think there’s only one possible thing we can do, given the urgency of your mission.’

‘What?’ Heather asked.

‘We take a road trip.’

The noise that woke her was the smack of a stone on her window.

The rest of the night unravelled like a dream and then a nightmare …

It being the night before the wedding, she was granted the privilege of sleeping in a bed on her own rather than with her sisters. Not that she did anything other than stare at the ceiling. She would have preferred the tangle of limbs and snuffling breath of others to the sound of her own sobs. Yet she had dozed off momentarily when the small crack woke her.