The Reincarnationist Page 35

  As frightened as she’d been until this very moment, his screaming at her threw Bettina’s heart into a rapid rhythm. It didn’t seem possible that she could be so frightened for so long and not die of it. Could he hear her heart beating?

  “Why can’t we stop and buy candy?” Quinn asked for the sixth time in a whining voice.

  “Because we’re in a hurry, sweetheart. Let’s just be quiet and be patient.”

  “But I want to stop,” Quinn wailed.

  “I swear to God, if you don’t get her to shut up, I’m going to pull over and do it myself,” Carl barked from the front seat.

  “She’s not even three years old,” Bettina answered with an edgy tone, and then froze. She’d just talked back to him. What was he going to do? She no longer imagined that under his tough exterior was a soft soul that really didn’t want to be bad and hurt anyone. She’d spent the past three panic-filled days with him, and she was sure that if there had once been a human core inside of him that responded to kindness or love, it had hardened and dried up.

  Bettina looked out of the car window, understanding that although she could see out, no one could see in. The car was like a coffin. Tight, closed, impossible to escape. Kidnappers usually killed their victims. She knew that. It was always on TV. How many lived? What was the percentage? She could picture a hundred newspaper headlines that she’d never paid attention to.

  “Why can’t we get candy?” Quinn asked yet once more.

  “I said, shut her up. Didn’t you hear me? Christ, she is getting on my nerves.”

  “Honey, we’ll get candy after we meet your mommy. We’re going to see her really soon. And then you can get candy.”

  “Let’s stop and get candy and bring it to Mommy. I want M&M’s.”

  Carl turned his head around slightly. “I am telling you for the last time, put a sock in her mouth if you have to. I can’t deal with this now. Do you understand that? Do you get that? Or am I going to have to beat it into you?”

  There was no question that he could. That he would. She wiped her hands on her jeans and stole a look at the back of Carl’s head, at the two inches where his hair ended and before his shirt collar started. His skin was ruddy but soft-looking. Were there veins there? Arteries? If she leaned up to him and bit him, could she hurt him badly enough to incapacitate him and—no. He was driving. If she hurt him, he might lose control of the car and kill them all. But this was as close as she’d been to him in the past three days, after all the frustration of being helpless in that motel room, listening to the droning television for seventy-two hours, after failing to come up with any kind of counterattack.

  “Let’s get a candy present for Mommy.”

  “For fuck’s sake, shut her the hell up!”

  Bettina’s body broke out in a new sweat; she shook, and her damn teeth began chattering again. Quinn, who had been listening to the sound for the past three days, and now associated the chattering with the man getting even more angry, broke out in loud, piercing wails.

  Bettina’s fear escalated. What if this was too much for him? What if he turned around now and shot them both?

  “Come on, Quinnie, stop crying now. We’re going to see Mommy, and she’s going to be so excited to see you that she’s going to cover you in kisses.”

  But the wailing didn’t stop. If anything, it intensified.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

  “Quinnie, do you want to play a game? Your bear wants to play a game with you.”

  The cries were now shrieks.

  “For God’s sake, give her this.” Carl threw a pack of gum at Bettina. It hit her on the side of the face and stung for a minute. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “What’s that?” Quinn asked, the tears stopping instantly as if she’d been able to tell from the shiny yellow wrapper that this was something sweet.

  Of all the bizarre things Bettina could have thought of, in the middle of this holy terror, in the back of a car being driven by a cruel, frightening man who had a gun and who she was sure had used it more than once, all Bettina could think of was that Gabriella didn’t want Quinn to have gum. It was one of the rules.

  Unwrapping it, she showed it to Quinn. “This is gum. I’m going to give you a piece. But listen to me, it’s not the same as other kinds of candy. You don’t swallow it, you chew it.”

  “It’s not candy?”

  “Yes. It’s candy, but a special kind. You don’t swallow it, you just chew it.”

  “Just give her the fucking gum. Let her swallow it if she wants. Just get her to shut up. I need her to shut up.”

  Bettina gave Quinn the stick of gum, forcing a laugh as Quinn put the wondrous thing in her mouth and instantly grinned as the sugar exploded and teased her taste buds.

  “Don’t swallow it,” Bettina warned.

  Quinn nodded. Kept chewing. Smiled. Kept chewing.

  At least she was quiet now.

  Chapter 69

  This soul needs to follow another soul in whom the Spirit of life dwells, because she is saved through the Spirit. Then she will never be thrust into flesh again.

  —Secret Book of John, The Gnostic Gospels, 185 A.D.

  Friday, 1:05 p.m.

  Malachai pulled up in front of Gabriella’s house and sat in his car waiting. Less than two minutes later, she and Josh came out. They stood on the driver’s side, talking to Malachai through the open window, filling him in on the kidnapper’s instructions and going over their plans. Malachai was going to follow them in his car. If he lost them, he’d call on his cell. Once Gabriella got directions for where the switch was going to be made, Josh would call and give him the information. And most important, once Malachai was sure Josh and Gabriella were with the kidnapper, he was going to alert the police so in case anything at all went wrong, they had help.

  “But you’re going to explain to them how careful they have to be,” Gabriella said.

  “I will, don’t worry,” Malachai said soothingly, the way he talked to the children before he hypnotized them.

  And then Malachai asked Josh if he could see the stones.

  “Gabriella has them,” he said, giving her the option of whether or not she wanted to take them out. But she opened her bag, extracted a padded envelope, took out the tissue-wrapped package and handed it through the window.

  Malachai unwrapped them, and hunched over them. Josh couldn’t see the stones, or his mentor’s face, but from the incline of Malachai’s head and his stillness, Josh could tell he was doing what he’d done when he’d first seen them—just kept staring.

  A minute went by.

  “I’d like to alter the plan. When we get there,” Malachai said to Gabriella without looking up at her, still staring at the stones, “I’d like to be the one to make the exchange. I’m not emotionally involved, and I’m less likely to do anything rash. The kidnapper said you could bring someone with you. He’ll be expecting you to be with a man.”

  “No,” Josh said. “I’m going in with her.”

  Now Malachai looked up and gave Josh a stern glance. “These should have been mine. If I can’t have them, at least let me be the one to turn them over.”

  Josh looked at his watch. “We need to go,” he said.

  Malachai rewrapped the stones and, reluctantly, Josh thought, handed the package back to Gabriella. She gripped it as if the feel of it was keeping her from losing her mind. Then he took her arm, and the two of them walked over to her car.

  * * *

  They spoke only perfunctorily until they were on I-95, heading east, not even knowing their final destination. After thirty minutes, Gabriella’s phone rang and the kidnapper gave her an address off exit 8. Gabriella’s tension electrified the air. Occasionally, Josh checked the rearview mirror and saw Malachai’s Jaguar, three or four cars back, but wasn’t worried about losing him. They had cell phones.

  At 2:25 p.m., Josh pulled into a parking lot at a Dunkin’ Donuts on the Post Road in Stamford as instructed, and they sat silently and waited,
watching Gabriella’s phone.

  The overbearing scent of fried bakery goods wafted into the car but didn’t defuse the nervousness that Josh was sure he could smell. Fear and tension has its own stench. It emanated from soldiers in battle. From prisoners on trial. From mothers whose children were in mortal danger.

  When the phone rang again she reached for it so quickly it didn’t ring a second time. She listened, said yes, then hung up and looked out the window and pointed across the street to a large stone church sitting on top of a small hill. It had a circular driveway, tall spires and a bell tower.

  “They’re in there. Right in there.” Her voice wavered.

  Josh drove to the end of the block. The light was red. He stopped.

  Gabriella clenched and unclenched her fists. She didn’t take her eyes off the church when she spoke to him. “There is no way that anything has happened to my baby, is there?” Her voice was wrenched from a place so deep inside her it sounded as if it had traveled miles to get to the surface.

  “Whoever did this doesn’t want Quinn, remember that,” Josh said. “He doesn’t want any more problems. He just wants the stones. That’s all he ever wanted from the beginning. He didn’t want to kill the professor or the guard. They just got in the way. No one is getting in his way now. He just wants the stones and the mantra. That’s all. The stones and the mantra,” he repeated, talking to her the way he had heard Malachai talk to the children when he was helping them relax into hypnosis. “The stones and the mantra.” As he said it, he wondered if the man he was talking about was Alex Palmer. Was he behind the original robbery and this kidnapping? Was Rachel staying away from him until this was over, as she’d promised?

  The red light was lasting longer than seemed possible. Gabriella rolled down the window and leaned out, so far that Josh’s instinct was to hold her back.

  “The last thing Quinn needs is for you to get hurt,” he said.

  Was she even hearing him?

  “Gabriella, let me do this for you.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  The light switched to bright, glaring green. Josh put his foot on the gas and eased out. There weren’t any other cars on the street but he still went slowly. They were almost there. He didn’t want anything to happen now.

  Ten yards.

  Twenty yards.

  Thirty yards.

  Josh took a left into the long driveway. Drove another twenty yards and then pulled up in front of the church. They both got out of the car. He went around to meet her.

  “For Quinn’s sake—” He held out his hand.

  “I need to be in there.”

  “Stay in the back, in the shadows.”

  She still hadn’t handed him the package that held the stones and the mantra.

  “I promise Gabriella, I’ll bring her back to you.”

  She extended her hand. It was shaking, violently.

  Chapter 70

  Josh, carrying the package that contained three walnut-size sapphires, two emeralds, one ruby and a dozen sheets of paper with phonetic translations of long-forgotten Indus symbols, walked up the steps leading to the church. Gabriella walked beside him.

  At the bottom of the driveway, on the street, Malachai parked and got out of his car.

  Josh climbed the last of the six steps. He was on the landing. He reached out for the bronze door handle and opened it to cool air perfumed with incense.

  For a few seconds, all he could see was the gloom waiting inside. After the sunshine, he was suddenly blind. But he was better than most at readjusting from light to dark from all his work behind the camera and in the darkroom, and within seconds he was reading the shadows.

  He walked inside, Gabriella next to him.

  Josh took ten steps up the center aisle.

  A woman holding the hand of a young child stood in front of the altar. A tall, heavyset man, motionless, was to the right of them. Behind them a gold cross gleamed.

  “Who are you?” the man called out. “Where’s Mrs. Chase?” In the dim light, he must not have been able to see all the way to the back of the church.

  “I’m right here,” Gabriella called out. “Josh is my friend, the man you said could drive me here. He’s here to help. He has what you want.”

  “Mo-o-m-my…” The cry was the sound of fear and relief exchanging places, echoing on and on in the almost-empty, hollow church.

  Josh felt Gabriella start beside him. He took her arm and held her back. And then he let go and stepped forward.

  Meanwhile, Carl had grabbed Quinn by the shoulder, pulled her close, and held her back with one large hand, fingers digging into the little girl’s flesh. Bettina’s eyes were wide with confusion, not understanding what was happening. She whimpered.

  The kidnapper glanced over at her, annoyed.

  Hopefully by now Malachai had alerted the police. That had been the plan; once Josh and Gabriella were inside the church, he’d make the call. Josh just had to keep everyone calm until they got here.

  And then he heard the sound of soft footsteps behind him.

  Josh felt a surge of relief. Thank God.

  He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to distract the kidnapper or give him any advance warning that the police were here.

  Josh kept walking to the altar. He was five feet away when he saw it: gleaming the way the cross gleamed, almost the way the stones had gleamed in Gabriella’s living room the night before.

  The man had a gun.

  “Let Quinn go,” Josh said. “Take this and let her go.” He held out the package.

  And that was when the kidnapper noticed something in the shadows.

  “Let Quinn go!” Josh repeated.

  The kidnapper ignored him; he was staring to Josh’s right. In one quick, smooth move he pulled out his gun and pointed it into the shadows.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he shouted.

  Josh didn’t understand what was happening. Was the kidnapper crazy enough to pull a gun on the police? He turned. No, it wasn’t the police, it was Malachai. What the hell was Malachai doing here? There was no time to reason it out. Not now. But there was time for Josh to realize one thing: the police weren’t on their way. Malachai, for some reason, hadn’t called them.

  “Hold your hands out and keep them out,” Carl said to Malachai. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t want any trouble.”

  Malachai held out his hands.

  On the altar, Bettina’s teeth started to chatter. Loudly enough for Josh to hear.

  Carl turned to her. “Shut the fuck up.”

  Quinn’s lower lip quivered.

  Josh took one step closer to the altar. “Let the baby-sitter go—you don’t need her anymore,” he said calmly and evenly. “She’s only going to get in your way. Let her come down here and wait with Mrs. Chase.”

  This was his last chance to get Bettina out of there so she could go and get help. The church was dark enough that the kidnapper wouldn’t be able to see if Bettina stayed or left.

  Bettina’s teeth were still chattering. The repetitive sound shattering the deep, cavernous silence.

  “The noise is driving us all crazy,” Josh said to the kidnapper, sympathetically. “Let her go.”

  Bettina was staring at him.

  Carl was staring at her.

  Call the police, Josh mouthed carefully, hoping she wasn’t yet in shock, hoping there was enough light on him that she could make out what he was saying.

  “Wait down there,” Carl ordered.

  Taking off down the steps, Bettina ran toward the back of the church, toward Gabriella.

  Josh didn’t turn around. Hopefully she’d understood what he’d asked of her and would get help.

  Carl’s attention returned to Malachai. “So I asked you who the fuck you were.”

  “I’m not here to make any trouble,” he said. “Take the package, let go of the little girl.”

  As Malachai talked, the kidnapper’s eyes narrowed and he cocked his head as if
he was making a great effort at listening. Then he smiled. As if something sweet had occurred to him. “The money was supposed to be deposited in my account, but it wasn’t.”

  Why was he telling Malachai that? Josh wondered.

  “I’m sure you’ll get your money when you deliver the package. Take it. Let the little girl go,” Malachai ordered.

  The man shook his head. “Only if the money’s there, along with whatever else I was supposed to pick up. Is it? Is what’s owed to me in there?”

  “Tell me how much money it is, and I’ll get it for you,” Josh pleaded. “I’ll get it right now.”

  The kidnapper laughed. He pointed his gun at Malachai. “It’s him that owes me the money. He’s the one who’s the fucking liar.”

  “What are you talking about?” Malachai asked, astonished.

  “I’ve got what they call an ear for voices,” Carl said. “I know who you are.”

  “Oh, do you, now?” Malachai asked, sounding imperious, except for a slight nervous hesitancy on the last word.

  “Yeah, I do. I know exactly who the fuck you are.”

  And suddenly so did Josh.

  A dozen small moments slipped into place. It was Malachai, desperate for the stones, desperate to prove reincarnation, who had orchestrated all of this; from the very beginning, years ago, on a snowy day in a chapel at Yale where Gabriella had gone to feel closer to her mother and met a priest—either Malachai himself or someone he’d hired—who gave her what turned out to be the map to the treasure. Malachi arranging to have the stones stolen. Malachai making that last effort to be the one to handle the exchange, knowing full well Josh would never agree. Malachai, the master magician. Certainly he was capable of using artifice and disguise, ruse and subterfuge. But Josh wouldn’t have imagined that Malachai was also capable of the horrendous acts that had been committed in the quest for this grail. Murder and kidnapping.

  The past isn’t always a pathway to the future. It can be a punishment, too. That was what reincarnation was about, wasn’t it? The temptation to repeat the past, the courage not to.

  Josh was remembering Rome and Malachai discussing his father, who’d never given him a chance because of an older son who’d died before the second son was born.