Jupiter's Bones (26 page)

“Maybe he was, and
you
just didn’t know about it.”

Europa frowned, then read the letter carefully. “This is patently
ridiculous
!”

“What part is ridiculous?” Decker asked. “The plagiarism or the affairs?”

“I didn’t know anything about Dad’s personal life. But I do know he’s no plagiarist. Academics is filled with petty people. This guy is psycho!”

“Then he probably is Bob’s father,” Martinez said.

Webster checked his watch and talked to Decker in a low voice. “It’s time for Asnikov. Maybe we should leave before Mr. Fed has other ideas.”

“Go ahead.” Decker waited a moment. “If you can, bring Asnikov down here when you’re done. He might know something about the physical layout of the Order. Plus, it’ll make McCarry feel better.”

Europa was still holding the letter. “Actually, the letter is similar in tone to Bob’s rantings during a bad trip.”

“What letter?” McCarry asked.

Europa showed him the newspaper clipping.

“Jesus!” McCarry answered. “So Ganz was screwing this guy’s wife—who’s probably Bob’s mother?”

“I’d bet money on it,” Decker said.

“Bob Junior must have had one hell of a rotten relationship with Bob Senior if he turned his own father’s archenemy into his personal hero.”

“So Bob
poisoned
my father to death?” Europa asked.

“Drugs and alcohol murdered your father,” Decker said. “Suicide still hasn’t been ruled out.”

“What about the arsenic?”

“According to the coroner, it wasn’t what killed him.”

Decker paused. “You know,
if
Bob was ripping off your dad, it made sense to have kept your father alive. Because now that he’s dead, I’m betting that all of Jupiter’s money goes to you—or at least to the living heirs.”

“Why? What do you know about my father’s finances?”

“He had a million-dollar life insurance policy with you as the beneficiary,” Decker said.

Her eyes had widened. “I don’t believe…are you
sure
?”

“I think so—”

“You
think
?”

“I’ve heard something to that effect, yes.”

“Then why haven’t
I
heard about it?”

“Because your father’s death has been ruled suspicious,” Decker said. “First, the cause of death has to be determined before an insurance company will pay. If it is ruled a homicide, you have to be cleared as a suspect. But I’m not talking about the insurance policy—which is clearly yours. I’m thinking that Jupiter must have had bank accounts. We know he took money from his parishioners.”

“He did?” Europa asked.

“Condition of joining the cult,” Webster said. “You give up your worldly assets to Father Jupiter, who spends the money for the good of the group.”

“It’s the communal money—in Jupiter’s bank accounts—that Bob could have been embezzling. Now that he’s gone, unless otherwise stated, Jupiter’s money goes to the closest living heirs.”

“My brothers and me.”

“Unless Jupiter has a will stating otherwise. And even if he did, you could contest it.”

“So now that my father is dead, the money Bob was embezzling is mine.”

“And Bob’s life on easy street is down the toilet.” Decker hesitated for a moment. “Although I’m still not sure how Nova plays into all of this.”

“Who’s Nova?” Europa asked.

“Another guru from the Order,” Decker said. “We found his dissected parts in a ranch owned by your father.”

“My God!” Europa exclaimed. “That’s horrible. And
that
was Bob’s doing also?”

“Probably,” Decker answered. He looked at McCarry, who was staring at the blueprints. Staring, but not absorbing anything. “You’re awfully quiet.”

McCarry jerked his head up, then rubbed his forehead. “My boss is taking the six
A.M.
down from Sacramento. I’d like to have a plan formulated by then.”

“You’re about to be displaced,” Decker said. “Forget it. No way I’m working with your boss, McCarry. We started this mess together, we’ll end it together.”

McCarry was shocked. That kind of loyalty was unheard of. Made him suspicious. What did Decker have up his sleeve? He asked, “Is it my good looks?”

“McCarry, I refuse to break in another fed,” Decker said. “If I have to recap my story one more time, I’ll puke.”

“Ner Yisroel?” Sammy
asked. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

Rina refrained from rolling her eyes. “How about a ‘Good morning, Eema’?”

Sammy plunked himself down at the kitchen table. He was dressed in the school’s uniform of blue pants and white shirt, but he hadn’t put on his shoes. “He’ll die.”

“He won’t die.” Rina took out Hannah’s cereal bowl. “If you really cared about your brother, you’d be encouraging him—”

“Are you saying I don’t care about Yonkie’s welfare?”

“Shmuel, it’s too early to fight. If you’re going to spar, do it alone.” Rina walked out of the kitchen.

“How can you spar alone?” Sammy called out.

She ignored him and went into Hannah’s room. The preschooler was swallowed up in her covers, her only sign of life being tight, orange ringlets. Rina pulled the comforter back. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Hannah opened her eyes, blinked and closed them again. She held out her pipestem arms for an embrace.

“Ah.” Rina hugged her. “This is my daily dose of sugar.”

She kissed her mother. “Is Daddy gone?”

“Yes, Daddy is gone.”

A pout in her voice. “But he didn’t say good-bye.”

“He didn’t come home last night.”

Hannah opened her eyes. She was confused. “Where was he?”

Good question
. Rina said, “He slept at his work.”

“At his work?”

Rina nodded.

“Why?”

“Because he was very busy and didn’t have time to come home.”

Hannah remained puzzled. “They have beds at Daddy’s work?”

“Yes, they do.”

“But not all works have beds.”

“No.”

“Only Daddy’s work?”

Rina nodded.

“Can I see Daddy’s bed?”

“One day.”

“Today?”

“No, another day.”

“Do they have pillows?”

Rina smiled. “Yes, they do.” She got up from Hannah’s bed. “Can you get dressed by yourself or do you need help?”

“I’ll get my dress on. And my socks. And my shoes. But you help me with the buckle.”

“Fine.” Rina stood. “Come into the kitchen when you’re dressed.”

“Are you making me oatmeal?”

“Yes. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay.” Hannah sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Can I watch cartoons?”

“For a few minutes.”

“Then I’ll get dressed very fast.”

“Good for you.”

With a sigh, Rina braved the kitchen again. Sammy was playing with a bowl of Rice Krispies. His bare feet were now covered with socks. The shoes were still a mystery.
He looked up when his mother came in. “I’m still here.”

“I see that.”

“You don’t like me anymore.”

Rina laughed. “I love you—”

“Yeah, but you don’t like me.”

“Shmuel—”

“I’m serious.”

“You argue with everything I say.”

“I think I know Yonkie very well…better than you.”

“I’m sure you do. Still, the program’s a good one. He needs a challenge.”

“I agree. But not Ner Yisroel.”

“Nothing’s carved in stone. Besides, it’s not between you and him, it’s between him and me.”

“In other words, you’re ignoring me. See, you don’t like me anymore.”

Rina didn’t answer. It seemed the smartest maneuver.

Jacob came shuffling into the kitchen. “Morning.”

Rina kissed the top of his yarmulke. “Morning.”

Jacob washed his hands and said the accompanying prayer of
Al N’tilat Yadayim
. Pouring some orange juice, he drank it in a single gulp.

Rina asked, “Did you finally get to sleep?”

He slumped into a chair. “I got a few hours.”

“You need more sleep,” Rina said.

“I need a lot of things,” Jacob countered.

Sammy slid him a clean cereal bowl. Jacob said, “Anything besides Rice Krispies?”

“Apple Jacks.”

Jacob frowned and pushed the bowl aside. “I’ll pass.”

“You have to eat something.”

“I’ll grab a bagel at school—”

“Yonkie—”

“Cartoons! Cartoons! Cartoons! Cartoons!” Hannah sang as she danced into the kitchen.

Sammy moaned. “Are
Looney Tunes
at six-thirty really necessary for her psychological well-being?”

“They’re very violent,” Jacob added.

Rina ignored them and turned on the kitchen TV. Immediately, images of a bunkerlike complex filled the tiny screen. Police lights were flashing in the background. Rina felt her heart jump as she stared at the pictures.

Did he call last night?

“I want cartoons!” Hannah insisted.

“Shhh!” Rina scolded.

“One man dead…” the TV stated. “It’s a grave situation with no end in sight out here in the West Valley…”

“Oh, God, it’s local!” Rina exclaimed.

Sammy was suddenly awake. He sat up. “What is it, Eema?”

“Go check the message machine and see if Dad called.”

“He didn’t come home—”

“Just do it!”

Sammy got up.

Jacob had his eyes glued to the TV. His heart dropped into his stomach. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know!”

“I want cartoons!” Hannah whined.

Jacob stood, reluctantly taking his eyes off the TV. “C’mon, Hannalah. Let’s watch in my room.”

“In your room?” She jumped up and down. “Goody.”

Sammy came back. “Nothing on the machine.”

“Damn him!” Rina swore.

The boys stared at her. They had never heard their mother curse before. Sammy said, “Want me to call the station house—”

“No!” Rina paced. “I’ll do it. It’s nothing. If it was something, I would have gotten a phone call by now. I just wish he’d…turn the sound up, will you?”

“Come on!” Hannah said, tugging at Jacob’s shirt.

“Just a sec—”

Rina yelled, “Take her out of here now!” She dialed Peter’s cellular.

The line had been cut.

Fabulous!

Jacob scooped up his sister and left the kitchen. Rina hung up the phone with a slam, picked up the receiver and punched in the station house’s number. “He knows how I worry and he never…yes, this is Rina Decker. Is my husband, Lieutenant…Don’t put me on hold! I just want to know—”

But she had been sent into an electronic void.

“You’d think after seven years he’d have the decency…yes, this is Rina Decker. I was wondering if…well, do you know
where
he is…do you know if he’s all right?” A pause. “‘
I’m sure
’ isn’t good enough…connect me to someone who knows something or I’m going to storm the place!”

She stamped her foot.

“God, these people are infuriating.”

“He’s fine, Eema,” Sammy said. “Like you said, if something happened, you would have heard about it.”

“What’s going on over there?” Rina asked him.

“Some sort of hostage situation—”

“Fabulous!” Rina felt her head go light. She leaned against the counter. Sammy saw her face go white and gave her a chair. “Sit down.”

“I’m all right—”

“Sit down!”

Call-waiting beeped in. Rina depressed the flash button.

“It’s me. I’m fine!”

Rina broke into tears of relief as well as anger. “Do you think you might have called and left a message?”

“They confiscated my phone. All the other phones are tied up. This is literally the first chance I’ve had to get an outside civilian line. You were worried. I’m very sorry.”

She gave out a couple of choked sobs. “It’s fine.” A sniff. “Sorry I jumped down your throat.”

“I understand. Honestly, it couldn’t be helped.”

“As long as you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Same here. I love you. You heard about the situation from the TV?”

“I’m looking at it as we speak.”

“Can you tell me what images they’re flashing?”

Rina regarded the monitor. “Exterior shots of a group of buildings. The Order, right?”

“Yes. Same on all the stations?”

Rina picked up the remote control and searched through the networks. “Basically.”

“No faces?”

“Not so far.”

“Good. I’ve got to go.”

In a small voice she said, “I love you.”

Decker felt his throat clog. “Baby, I love you, too. So very much. Kiss the kids for me. Tell them I love them. I mean that.”

“I know you do.”

“I don’t know when I’ll see you.”

He had such a longing in his voice. Rina said, “Whenever you can, it’ll be right. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Always.”

“No heroics, please?”

“Honey, they’re waving to me. I’ve got to go.”

He disconnected the line. Rina hung up the phone, realizing her hands were clammy. She rubbed them together and looked at Sammy. “Go tell the other two they can come in from exile.”

“He’s okay?”

“He’s fine.” She stared at the TV. “But he’s going to be camped out there for a while. Don’t expect him home until Shabbos. And maybe not even then.”

“He told you that?”

“Not in those words, but the intent was there. Unless this ends quickly.” She stared at the TV. “From what he told me, the cult is pretty self-sufficient. It’s going to be a while.” She wiped her tears away. “Oh my my. You never appreciate something until it’s gone.”

The kitchen grew quiet.

“Go tell the others to come in, Shmuel. Yaakov must be scared out of his wits.” Rina kissed her son’s cheek, then splashed water on her face. “And put on your shoes, Sammy. It’s late. Yaakov has exams. Life goes on.”

But the teen dawdled.

She looked up from the sink. “What is it?”

“Life goes on,” Sammy repeated. “Boy, I’ve heard
that
one before.”

“I heard the details in transit—on the car radio.” Asnikov opened the door to his outer office. “The cops aren’t saying much. The reporters assume you’re playing it close to the bone. What’s more likely is you don’t know much. The Order has run a tight ship all these years. Not many leaks, ergo not much detail.”

Martinez said, “Maybe you can help us on that account.”

“Don’t see how.” He turned on the lights to the reception area, walked through the space, then unlocked the door to his office. He flipped those switches, then removed his jacket, draping it across the back of his desk chair. “Now that you’ve got a mess on your hands, maybe you gentlemen have an understanding of what I do. I liberate human beings from these kinds of dungeons before their monstrous leaders crack up and take everybody down with them.”

With a click of the remote, Asnikov turned on a ceiling-mounted TV. The cameras were still panning across the buildings. Everything static and status quo. Sunlight was breaking through the overcast, turning the bunkers’ concrete from steel to gold. The wall clock read six-thirty.

Asnikov’s mandible was grinding against his upper jaw. The sound was audible. He pointed to his Stickley-styled couch with the primary-colored pillows. “And as long as you’re here, have a seat.”

Webster said, “Sir, it would help us if you came along with us.”

Asnikov’s green eyes bore into Webster’s. “Along
where? You aren’t taking me to your station house, are you?”

“No, sir. We’d like you to come to the Order.”

“You have a warrant to take me there?”

Martinez noticed that the deprogrammer had flinched, though not more than a fraction of a second. “No, sir, we don’t have a warrant. We’re asking for a favor.”

Again, Asnikov’s eyes drifted back to the TV—to the metal gauntlet of law enforcement cars and vans. He spoke while watching the monitor. “What do you think I can do for you?”

“Help us with the Order’s physical layout.”

“I don’t know the physical layout.” Asnikov returned his attention to Martinez. “Those bastards have had spies out for me. I haven’t been able to get within a mile of the place without someone shooting at me.”

“An exaggeration, Mr. Asnikov?” Martinez asked.

The programmer smiled cryptically. It held malice and bitterness. “What I’m telling you is
I’ve
never been inside. Believe me, I’d
love
to be part of the raid that breaks those sons of bitches. But I don’t know anything—just like you.”

“So you’re telling us that you’ve never helped anyone escape the premises?”

“Exactly.”

No doubt about it. Askinov knew something that was making him nervous. “Maybe one of your people has helped someone break out?”

“Nope.” Asnikov remained adamant. “I wish I could help…”

He let the words hang in the air.

End of conversation. Webster kept it alive with another tactic. “What do you know about Guru Bob?”

“Why?”

“Just gathering information,” Martinez said. “For starters, is his last name Russo?”

“Someone’s done some homework. Most people think his last name is Ross. That’s what he used when he was
at Southwest U. of Tech. He left without graduating.”

“Actually, he was kicked out,” Webster said. “Either leave or be expelled.”

Asnikov raised an eyebrow. “Then you know more about him than I do. In the past, I hadn’t given Bob much thought. As long as I’ve known the Order, Pluto has been the gatekeeper. Being as infiltration is my stock-in-trade, I’ve always concentrated on how to get around
him
. Ignoring Bob was probably a mistake. Could be why I’ve had problems.”

“What do you know about Pluto?” Martinez asked.

“What do you know about him?”

“Nothing,” Martinez said. “Right now, we’re still trying to get a fix on Bob.”

Asnikov nodded. “Pluto’s given name is Keith Muldoony. He came from dirt-poor beginnings in the backwoods of West Virginia—from a big family. At one time he was their shining star. Not only the family hero but a role model for the entire town. Keith was a
college
graduate.”

“From where?”

“Community college. Nothing fancy, but considering his surroundings that was some deal. His major was psychology. He actually worked in a hospital for a year. Impressed the relatives with his job because he wore a white coat. When I talked to them, that’s the first thing they told me. ‘Ole Keith worked in a hospital and wore a white coat.’ Guess a white coat is heady stuff for a kid whose relatives are either on welfare or in jail.”