Divine Fury (30 page)

“I’m Enzo Lee, San Francisco News,” said Lee.
 
“Well, first of all, I just want to say that I was very impressed by your performance tonight.
 
It was really amazing.
 
Your connection to the audience was something else.
 
I don’t really know what it was…just that sense of suspense…anticipation.
 
Something electric in the air.”

“Well, I like to think that God had something to do with it,” said Burgess with a smile.
 
“Of course he’s everywhere.
 
But I like to think maybe he gives it a little extra for an event like this.

“On the other hand, it could also be the spirits of Janis Joplin, Aerosmith and the Foo Fighters,” Burgess added with a grin,
 
“They all played here before me.”

“Pretty nice warm-up acts,” said Lee.
 
“Yeah.
 
I saw the Eurythmics play here once. It was a phase.”

“Really?” said Burgess.
 
“Wow.
 
I like
Sweet Dreams
.”

Lee paused.
 
He looked down at his notebook and turned to a blank page, signaling that it was time to shift gears.
 
He had to admit that he was a little disarmed by this conservative televangelist who had a sense of humor, liked rock and roll and actually seemed to know who the Foo Fighters were.

“Okay,” Lee began.
 
“You know I’ve been covering the Harper campaign and some questions have come up about you and Soldiers of Christ Ministry.”

“I know you’ve been talking to Bud Walters in Salinas,” said Burgess.
 
“Bud called me.
 
Said you were asking questions about me and him…something about crop-dusting.
 
Bud’s been a good friend to our ministry.
 
A good Christian.
 
A good friend to me, personally.”

“I said, ‘Don’t worry, Bud.
 
Take a deep breath.
 
We’ll look into this.
 
We’ll take care of it,’” continued Burgess.
 
“Frankly, I didn’t know what he was talking about.
 
Jus’ didn’t want the ol’ boy to lose it on the phone, you know.
 
Had to talk him down a bit.”

“Okay,” said Lee.
 
“I see.

“Let me tell you a different story now,” the reporter continued.
 
“It starts with
 
a young guy, 26-years-old.
 
He’s in love with a girl living for a while in Australia.
 
So, three times a week he goes into work – a hospital in San Francisco – and uses their office phone line to call her.
 
They talk…catch up.

“With the time difference, he’s going in at 2 or 3 in the morning,” Lee said.
 
“So, he goes in one early morning.
 
It’s on a Sunday.
 
While he’s in there, he sees somebody messing around with the computers in the office.
 
Turns out what he’s stumbled over is a spying operation, someone installing something, spyware basically, to bug the Andrew Harper campaign.
 
Keep track of everything going on inside it.”

Lee made sure to watch Burgess’ face when he mentioned spying on the Harper campaign.
 
The televangelist sat up straighter and furrowed his forehead at the mention.
 
He didn’t bother to hide his reaction.

“Of course, this guy doesn’t know anything about spying and the Harper campaign.
 
Maybe he doesn’t know anything wrong is going on,” Lee continued.
 
“It doesn’t matter.
 
A couple of minutes after he leaves the medical center he’s shot and killed.”

“My God,” said Burgess.
 
He was sitting bolt upright now, completely focused on what Lee was saying.
 
“He’s killed?
 
Did this really happen?”
 

“It did,” said Lee.
 
“I helped scatter the kid’s ashes myself.”

“Oh, no.
 
Oh, no.
 
I’m very sorry,” said Burgess.

Lee shrugged.

“You and a lot of other people,” said the reporter.
 
“I’ve spoken to the person who was planting the spyware – the guy the kid saw messing with the computers that morning.
 
He’s in police custody right now.
 
And he seems to believe that you and your church were involved in this.
 
That’s what he was told by the person who hired him.”

Burgess was shaking his head emphatically,
 

“No,” he said.
 
“I do not know
anything
about this.
 
With God as my witness.
 
And that is not something I would ever say loosely.”

“So, do you know who Dirk Renstrom is – I think he uses the nickname ‘the Terminator’ – and whether Soldiers of Christ Ministry paid him anything?”

“No,” said Burgess. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“Have you heard of La Vista Security, a company that Renstrom may own?”
   

Burgess shook his head.

“How about the spying operation targeting the Harper campaign?” Lee continued.
 
“Or any attempts to interfere with the campaign?”

“No. I know nothing about that.”
   

“Do you know who Lonnie Carter is and anything about payments to him to say he was molested by Andrew Harper?”
 
Lee asked.

“No.
 
Again.
 
I know absolutely nothing about anything like that.”

Lee paused.
 
He looked through his notes.
 
He’d hit the main questions.
 
He knew Burgess’ response would be the same for any other details he ran by him.
 
He could follow up later with a call if he needed.

“Okay…Jimmy…Reverend Burgess,” said Lee. “I guess that covers it.
 
All I have to say is…well…you seem like a sincere guy.
 
And your name and the name of your church keep turning up in this mess.
 
You might want to figure out why that is.
 
I mean, there’s a hell of a lot of smoke here.
 
Might be getting hot enough to catch your church on fire.
 
Just a word of advice.”

Burgess had his hands clasped together in prayer fashion with his chin resting on the fingers.
 
He had a contemplative expression on his face.

“Would you give me a list of all those names you just mentioned?
 
he asked.
 
“I will ask some others and see what they know.”

Lee wrote down the names on a blank page in his notebook, ripped it out and handed it to Burgess.
 
At the bottom, Lee had included his own name and telephone number.
 
When Lee got up to leave and they shook hands, he noticed Burgess seemed restless and preoccupied.
 
Worry had replaced his original bonhomie.

As soon as the door to the dressing room closed, Burgess pulled out his cell phone and dialed the bookkeeper at Soldiers of Christ Ministry.
 
He read the list of names and asked her to see whether the church had paid any money to them.
   

Then, Burgess called Daggart and got him in his car enroute to George Chapman’s campaign headquarters in downtown Los Angeles.
 

“We’ve got trouble,” Burgess told him.
     

Chapter 38

Monday, June 7, 2004
110 miles from San Francisco

WALBERG DITCHED THE Blazer in Reno.
 
He bought a very used Dodge Caravan for $1,500.
 
The guy who owned the used-car lot didn’t ask any questions or even request ID when he saw that Walberg had a stack of $50 bills in his pocket.
 
Walberg assumed the van had serious problems – worn brakes, lousy suspension, a transmission about to lock up or maybe all three.
 
But he didn’t have far to go now.

He found a motel in Folsom and paid for two nights.
 
In the morning, he found a gun range 40 minutes away in Elk Grove.
 
He took both the Beretta and the SR-25.
 
He didn’t know which he might need to use.
 
Maybe both.
 
He wanted to be completely confident no matter the situation that he would make the most of any opportunity that arose.

He paid the $20 range fee and put on the mandatory goggles.
 
He started with the rifle.

The range only had targets out to 100 yards, too close, really, for the scope.
 
He compensated by making his target smaller.
 
Instead of going for a head or torso shot, he focused on where the nose would be, or the heart or the navel.
 

With the Beretta, Walberg wanted to practice squeezing off three quick shots at a time because he knew that unless you were at point-blank range, it was hard to control the recoil and keep the subsequent shots on target.
 
The gun tended to rise after the initial shot. After the first couple of tries, he was compensating well, keeping the aim much steadier.
 

By the end, he was confident that if he got within 25 yards, he could put three shots into the torso of the target very quickly.
 
Each would be potentially lethal.
 
Three should be enough to do the job.
 
No problem if he just kept his focus.

On the way back to the motel, Walberg stopped at a café with computer terminals connected to the Internet.
 
He paid the $5 fee for an hour’s use and bought a ham and cheese sandwich and coffee.
 

He logged onto his email account and found the message he’d been expecting.
 
The email was short. The subject line read:
 
“Righteous Fury”

“Dear S.W.,

Harper’s schedule of main events – Pride Week.
 
June 17, 8 pm – Campaign Rally at Justin Herman Plaza.
 
June 19, 10:30 am – Gay Pride Parade.
 
June 20, 10 am –Attend Trinity Cathedral Services.

A new threat to your success is Enzo Lee, a reporter for the San Francisco News.
 
Home address:
 
537 Green St.

God be with you.

With His Love,

Deacon

* * *

Bud Walters was at his computer trying to figure out whether appetites in Japan and Korea could better absorb an extra 10 truckloads of artichokes than those on the East Coast when his secretary knocked on his office door.
 
She entered so quickly, before he could say his customary “Enter,” that his guard was up even without having seen the expression on her face.
 
Normally as unrevealing as a professional poker player, she looked flustered.