Holy Rollers (6 page)

“Big church,” Chase said, stating the obvious and hoping to distract attention from his lapse into piety.

“Maybe
too
big.” Grant eyed a guardhouse set near the entrance. “Farraday, go down the road a bit and pull over. I need to eyeball this from outside the car.”

A quarter mile down the road, Farraday gently pulled onto the shoulder and stopped.

“Don’t make this too long, Lambert. I got no idea what the cops in Virginia will think seeing this car with New York tags parked on the side of the road.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Leonard piped up from the backseat. “The Cathedral has an international following. All fifty states and more than thirty foreign nations. Out-of-state visitors are very common. If the police come by, I can tell them I’m giving you a tour of the area.”

“I’m not worried about
us
, Leonard. I’m worried about the fact this vehicle is stolen.”

“Oh.” Leonard slinked back into his seat and reminded himself that he was not dealing with the world as he was used to dealing with it.

Grant was first out of the car and motioned for Leonard and Chase to follow him, which they did. Then, Leonard leading, they walked back down the shoulder in the direction they’d come, stopping a few hundred feet from the main entrance, just out of sight of the guardhouse.

“I don’t know if I should be out here,” said Leonard, his hands fidgeting in his pants pockets. “If they see me, they’ll know something’s up.”

“Then don’t be seen,” said Grant. “But I want you with us in case we have questions.” He pointed to the grassy slope rising up from the side of the road, a berm forming the separation between church and traffic. “Up here.”

The three men scrambled up the slope, stopping at the top and taking in the view of the Virginia Cathedral of Love. The late-morning sun bounced off the massive stained-glass panels lining the front wall of the cathedral, which—along with a few smaller buildings—sat in the center of a basin ringed by green hills.

Grant looked at Chase. “How big, you figure?”

Chase sized up the property. “Farraday could do this better, but I make it to be about twenty city blocks from the road to the far end.”

“So a mile.”

“Yeah, give or take.”

“So that would put the cathedral about a half mile from the road, and that big cross maybe five-eighths of a mile.”

“’Bout that.”

While most of the land had been paved for parking lots and sidewalks, the acreage of the grounds still allowed for abundant greenery, although not the kind of coverage Grant felt they could use to their best advantage. The only heavy foliage was near the five-eighths of a mile point, where a concentration of trees and shrubbery lined four symmetrical walkways fanning out from the base of the mammoth cross.

Grant didn’t like what he saw. There was nowhere to hide out there except near the cross, but since that wasn’t where the money was stashed, it wouldn’t do them any good.

“The cross is
huge
,” whispered Chase, fighting the urge to bless himself again. “Even bigger than it looks from the road.” He took in the immense structure, the lower half encased in scaffolding. Because he was more practical than devout, he asked Leonard, “What’s the deal with the scaffolding?”

“In a place this size, there’s always something that needs fixing.” Then Leonard, who was trying to think like a criminal, figured he knew why Chase was asking. “You’re thinking of attaching a zip-line to the scaffolding and riding it to Cathedral House, right?”

Chase studied his face to see if he was joking. “No.”

“Pretending to be a day laborer on the repair crew to get access to the grounds?”

“Why would we do that? Anyone can walk in.” He patted Leonard on the shoulder. “Thanks, but you’d better leave the plotting to us.”

Grant carefully studied the nearly treeless landscaping and flat, paved parking lots. “I don’t know about this. Everything’s right out in the open.” He motioned to the old house set away from the cathedral at the far end of the property. “What’s that building?”

“Cathedral House,” said Leonard. “That’s where the administrative offices are located.”

“Meaning that’s where the money is.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Looks old,” Grant said.

“Almost two hundred years old. It used to be the manor house for a large plantation. Hurley had it completely restored when he built the cathedral.”

“And had it wired, I assume.”

Leonard looked at him. “You mean for electricity?”

“I mean for alarms.”

“Oh!” Leonard was still having trouble thinking like a criminal, but was starting to pick up the rhythm. “You’d better believe it. Alarms and cameras.”

Chase said, “And I’m sure they patrol the grounds…”

“Actually,” said Leonard, “it’s funny. They’re not fanatics about that. Not like a lot of the other mega-churches. At night, a security patrol drives through once every couple of hours, but they don’t have regular foot patrols.”

“Any patrols during the day?” asked Grant.

“Not really. There are so many people around, there wouldn’t be much value in it. Just the shack at the entrance, and some guards based inside Cathedral House.”

“Exterior cameras? Alarms? Motion detectors? Anything like that?”

“Nothing too elaborate, as far as I know,” said Leonard. “There are a few exterior cameras at the back of the property”—he indicated the far side of the campus, back by the old house—“but only because it isn’t visible from the road.”

Grant wrinkled his brow. “That doesn’t make sense, especially with all this cash you tell us they’re holding. Not to mention the money they’re collecting legitimately. Why not spend a few bucks on security?”

Leonard just shrugged. “I can’t tell you their reasoning, but Hurley and Merribaugh have focused almost all the security on the inside of Cathedral House. There are cameras and two security offices…”

Grant frowned. “Two security offices for a four-story building? I’m not crazy about those odds.”

“One’s in the basement. That office is manned around the clock, but not really staffed up. Usually five or six guards. Mostly, they watch the camera feeds. The other is on the second floor near Hurley’s office, but guards are only posted when he’s there.”

Grant shook his head. “None of this makes sense. You’re positive the only exterior cameras are in the back? There’s
nothing
trained on the front entrance or the grounds?”

“I’m positive.”

The three men were silent for a while until Chase, thinking it through, said, “I have an idea why all the exterior cameras are in the back. Maybe this Dr. Hurley doesn’t want his comings and goings captured permanently on tape.”

Grant shrugged. “That doesn’t make sense, either. If there are cameras inside the offices…”

“Cameras
Hurley
placed. And can probably have turned on and off at will. Is that the way it works, Leonard?”

“I…I really wouldn’t know. I was only the bookkeeper.”

Chase looked back over the expansive property, and seeing only the paved six-lane road running between the guardhouse at the Cathedral Boulevard entrance to the former plantation house, asked, “I take it this place only has one entrance?”

“This is it,” Leonard confirmed. “The other sides of the property are too hilly or swampy to build a road, so the church left it wild. Hills…trees…marshland…an occasional deer hunter during the season…That’s about it.”

“So if we grab the safe and try to make it out the back way…”

“You’d never make it. It’s forever wild.”

“There you have it,” said Chase, feeling a bit proud of his deduction. “Hurley can control what’s taped inside the buildings. A camera on the only entrance means there’d be a record of when he comes and goes…”

“And maybe,” added Grant, “what he leaves with.”

“Exactly.”

Grant thought out loud as he continued to survey the property. “We’re gonna need a few people on the inside. This ain’t gonna be as easy as driving a truck in, loading the safe, and driving away.” He took another look at the cathedral and converted plantation house. “Leonard, I’m gonna need a detailed layout of the administration building.”

“No problem.”

“Including the locations of the cameras.”

Leonard faltered. “I’m not sure I know where they all are. But I’ll try.”

“Do your best. Whatever you can remember. As long as it’s perfect.” Grant took another look at the grounds, then abruptly turned and started walking. “I’ve seen enough for now. Let’s get out of here before someone gets suspicious of Farraday parked out by the road.”

They carefully walked back down the slope toward Cathedral Boulevard, Leonard leading the way. Chase, a few yards behind, noticed Grant was deep in thought.

“You see a problem?” he asked.

“A few dozen of them,” said Grant. “Starting with, how are we gonna get people into the church?”

“It’s a church. How hard could it be?”

Grant frowned as they reached the pavement and started walking toward the car. “Another thing: You think we can trust Leonard?”

Chase shrugged noncommittally. “We’re gonna have to, I guess.”

“I suppose. In which case, we’d better do some shopping.”

“For what?”

“Real estate. This job is gonna take us a few weeks, if we’re lucky. Probably more like a month. So the first thing we’re gonna need is a place to hole up.”

When they were all back in the car and buckled in, Grant told Farraday to drive.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Just keep driving while we talk.”

It didn’t occur to Farraday to question Grant. Instead, he eased the car onto Cathedral Boulevard and did as he’d been told, driving away from the Virginia Cathedral of Love.

Without looking toward the backseat, Grant asked Leonard, “What kind of cash you have?”

“I don’t know…Fifty, sixty bucks?”

“Not in your pocket. In your bank account.”

Leonard knitted his brow. “Why?”

“We’re looking at a long-term job here. I can tell by looking this isn’t one of the jobs we back a truck up and drive away with the loot.”

“Security seems pretty lax,” said Chase. “Maybe it
could
be that easy.”

“It’s what we aren’t seeing that worries me. I figure we’ll need at least two people on the inside, which is gonna take a little time. So we’re gonna need a place to live for a while. Close to the cathedral. Walking distance, if we can find it. Meaning we’ll need seed money for rent and whatever else we think we’ll need. Probably ten thou minimum. Twenty to be safe.”

Leonard sputtered and one hand flew to the second button of his shirt. Chase hoped he didn’t tug too hard; the button already looked loose. “I don’t have twenty thousand dollars!”

“You’ll get it back on top of your take.”

“But I don’t have it!”

“Ten?”

“No!”

“What kind of bookkeeper are you? You never siphoned off a little for yourself?”

Leonard shook his head. “No. And if you’re so smart, why don’t
you
have twenty thousand dollars in the bank?”

“I don’t know what they taught you in bookkeeping school…”

“Business school.” The button came off in Leonard’s hand.

“Whatever. An occupation like mine doesn’t come with vacation days and a 401(k).”

Leonard nodded his understanding and sat back in his seat.

They drove around the area for a while, Farraday following Grant’s spontaneous directions to turn right here and left there. After the better part of an hour, those who weren’t already familiar with Nash Bog—meaning everyone who wasn’t Leonard Platt—had a good feel for the community. It was affluent, professional, orderly, and pretty much the last place they’d fit naturally.

But for seven million dollars, they figured they could try to adapt.

Grant finally turned to Farraday and said, “Enough of Virginia for now. Let’s get back to civilization.”

“New York?” Farraday asked.

“New York.”

As Farraday maneuvered the Mercury Mystique out of Nash Bog, Chase leaned forward from the backseat and said, “I think I know someone who could lend us the money.
And
who can also find us a place to stay while we do the job.”

Grant nodded. “I know who you mean.”

When they were finally back on the highway, Farraday cast a sidelong look at Grant and asked, “You gonna tell the rest of us who this mystery financier is?”

“Just drive,” said Grant, moving the visor to block the sun from his eyes. “We’ve got five hours ahead of us on the road and plenty of time to talk…”

The paperwork signed and in her purse, Lisa Cochrane clasped the heavyset, sixtyish man’s hand in both of hers, flashed a smile, and said, “I’m
thrilled
to have this opportunity to sell your home, David. Just
thrilled
!”

For his part, the man whose hand had been clasped and which was now was being squeezed with enthusiasm mustered his own smile. His pink cheeks glowed. “I’ll miss this place. But with the publishing industry in the state it’s in, I don’t think it’s advisable to hang on to sentiment.”