A Prayer for the Devil (38 page)

CONCERNED THAT LUKE WAS
already late for his flight, Layth had Masud follow him into the airport. As they arrived at the security area, they found hundreds of people impatiently waiting in line. Several men were yelling and pushing without any regard for the women and children in the queue. Masud walked over the counter and said something to a young man. Minutes later, another man in a dark suit appeared. Luke watched as the two men talked in Arabic for a few seconds. Looking at Luke, the man waved and led him past the crowds to a separate area where he was searched and his bag was x-rayed. Luke waved to Masud and rushed through the terminal. Arriving at the gate, he was the last passenger to board the plane.

Exhausted, Luke realized that he had hardly eaten anything or slept in the past day. With stops in Dubai and London before arriving in Boston, he knew that it would be another twenty-three hours before he was home. Regardless, his mind raced as he tried to anticipate what Fatih was planning. He hoped Deborah and the children were safe in the mountains. John should be untraceable, since Aaron’s office building was titled under a separate LLC, making it almost impossible to connect to the family. And Vincent should be out of danger, since no
one knew he was back in Boston. And who would even think to look on a boat in the middle of winter?

Then he had a sobering thought. What about his parents? Could they be a target? He quickly did the math in his head to determine what time Fatih would get to Boston. Even if Fatih had left five hours before and had a flight with only one connection, he wouldn’t land in Boston before Luke reached his first stopover in Dubai. Luke would call his parents as soon as he landed and demand that they leave their house and stay away.

Luke couldn’t sleep and was consumed with anxiety as the plane made its first landing. He grabbed his small carry-on bag and quickly made his way through the walkway and into the gate area. Since his cell phone was useless here, he rushed to find a phone. Looking around, he realized that he was already a world away from Saudi Arabia. Upscale stores like Chanel, Givenchy, and Dior lined the airport terminal. Western food was readily available at McDonald’s or Starbucks. Luke found a business center, where the receptionist helped him place the international call. As the phone began ringing, Luke thanked her and she walked away. Realizing that it was the middle of the night in Boston, Luke rehearsed what he would say when his father answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dad, it’s Luke, everything is fine and I don’t want you to worry, but please listen carefully to what I’m about to say. You need to leave the house within the next hour and go out of town. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. Maybe you can go to Uncle Ira’s house in Vermont?”

His father responded groggily, “What? Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yes, Dad, I’m fine.”

He could hear his mother in the background, questioning what was going on.

“Where are you, son?”

“I’m in Dubai, but I’ll be home soon.”

“Where the hell is Dubai?”

“I’ll explain everything when I see you. But now, please promise me that you will leave the house soon.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a precaution, but I want to make sure you’re safe.”

His father hesitated and asked, “Are you safe?”

Luke wasn’t really sure himself, but he said, “I’m fine.”

Luke’s mother got on the phone and started asking more questions. Luke did his best to avoid answering them directly, but he was finally able to convince them to leave. Before he hung up, Luke’s dad got back on the phone. “Did you find Aaron’s killer?”

“Yes, but now I need to make him pay.”

FATIH WALKED THROUGH LOGAN
airport in Boston, looking like any other American. With his black Levi’s, Abercrombie sweatshirt, and iPod, he confidently made his way to the customs counter. When he was summoned by the agent, he smiled boldly and handed her his U.S. passport. Seeing the stamp from Riyadh, she looked up and said, “Welcome home.”

Having only a small carry-on bag, he headed past the baggage claim and out the sliding glass doors to the curb. He took a white linen shawl out of his bag and draped it over his shoulders as a signal. A few minutes later, an empty cab pulled up with its taxi light off. He jumped into the backseat, and they slowly made their way out of the airport. As they drove, he asked the man about his family and his life in the Middle East before he came to the States. Before long, Fatih directed the driver to a deteriorated warehouse by the water. As they pulled into the parking lot, his cell phone rang. “Hello, Father.”

“Are you in the car?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a bag with a gun under the seat. Screw on the silencer and follow the plan we discussed.”

The plan had been in place for many years, with several different scenarios mapped out in great detail. Having Blade killed was easily handled from Riyadh, but killing the priest was another story. Fatih’s father, Ismail, had determined that this required a hands-on approach. Even though there was no hard evidence linking them to the bombing, the priest was getting close and might soon go to the local police. He had to be dealt with now. Fatih was more than willing to die to protect his father, but the plan was to make Luke’s death look like a suicide. They would shoot him in the head and place the gun in his hand. They joked about the newspaper headlines, “Heartbroken Priest Couldn’t Wait to See God.” Once Luke was dead, Fatih would drive to the outskirts of Boston, pick up another car, and assume a new identity. Then he would make his way to the Canadian border and stay there for a few months before going back to the Middle East.

Ismail said, “Call me when you are finished,” and Fatih ended the call.

He exited the cab, saying, “Wait here for me. I’ll be right back.” But then he looked down at one of the tires and stopped. “Your tire has a nail in it,” he said to the driver, pointing at the front of the car. The man hurried to get out and bent down to look. Fatih quietly moved behind him and nonchalantly pulled the trigger. The old man’s limp body lay on the freezing asphalt. Fatih whispered, “Allah Akbar,” before taking the linen cloth from around his shoulders and wrapping it around what was left of the dead man’s blood-soaked head. Following the plan, Fatih took the driver’s wallet and cash, so that it appeared he was robbed. Fatih dragged him by his feet until his body was hidden behind a dumpster. He smiled while backing up the car as several seagulls landed and pecked at the last pieces of flesh that lay on the ground.

He took the portable GPS unit out of his bag and scanned the preprogrammed addresses. He selected Saint Leonard’s Church. Once
there, he parked on the street and studied a picture of Luke that he had retrieved from the Internet. Then he entered the church and sat in a pew in the back, listening to a group of elderly parishioners as they prayed the rosary. When an old woman began walking out, he followed her to the gathering space. “Excuse me, can you tell me if Father Luke Miller is here?”

She smiled. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t been here for weeks. I hope he comes back soon.”

“Me too,” Fatih said with a smile.

He returned to the cab and selected the next address from the GPS. It was getting dark as he drove past Luke’s parents’ house and parked as far away as he could while keeping it in sight. Seeing no car in the driveway, he waited. He took a pack of gum from his bag, unwrapped a piece, and tried to relax. When his patience ran short, he left the car and walked down the block. He looked up and down the street before making his way up the narrow driveway and into the backyard. He peered into the windows but didn’t see anyone. Walking up the back steps, he put on a pair of gloves, then he leaned against the old wooden door, pushing with all his weight. On the second shove, the door jamb splintered, and he fell into the kitchen.

He cautiously entered every room in the small house and quickly determined that it was empty. Returning to the bedroom that Luke and Aaron had shared as boys, he mockingly took time to study their baseball trophies and pictures. “These infidel Americans cared more about baseball than God. What blasphemy.”

Once back in the cab, he thought about where he would go next. Newspaper articles and the Internet had been valuable sources of information on the man he was about to kill. He knew what his old truck and new car looked like, and he even knew the name of the bank where he kept his inheritance. He was especially anxious to meet Luke’s friend Jamilah. He had vowed that one day he would return
to the States and slit the throat of that little bitch who betrayed her religion by befriending the priest.

He started the cab and drove toward his next stop: Aaron’s mansion.

AFTER A LONG AND
unexpected delay in London, Luke’s plane finally landed in Boston. It was now the middle of the night, but he turned on his cell phone and frantically called John’s number. He apologized for waking him and said, “Can you pick me up at the airport?”

Hearing the panic in Luke’s voice, John replied, “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”

“Change of plans. I just landed.”

“I’ll leave right now.”

Luke said, “Before you pick me up, could you swing by Aaron’s house and see if Lori’s car is in the driveway? If it is, make sure the guard is still at the gate.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain when I see you.”

Luke rushed through the airport. Before entering the line for customs, he called his mother’s cell phone and was relieved to hear that they were staying with Uncle Ira. He felt even better when his father said that they had talked with Deborah earlier and she was concerned that Luke wasn’t answering his cell phone. It was too late to call her
now. Despite his parents’ protest, he refused to get into the details of his trip but promised to explain everything in the morning.