Faith Defiled (Gray Spear Society Book 14) (7 page)

"Let me see the check," she said.

"Hold on," Hanley said. "Who are you?"

"I'm his wife, Demi."

"I wasn't aware he was married."

"It wasn't, like, official." Demi smiled, showing her yellow teeth. "I'll hold the money for him until he comes back."

"You told us he doesn't live here anymore."

"Well, he might, uh, visit."

"Out of my way." Hanley pushed her aside and entered the apartment.

"Hey!" she yelled.

Hanley glanced back.

Katie had already drawn her gun, and she pointed it at Demi. "Be quiet."

"You're not publishers," Demi said.

"That's right."

Katie shoved Demi into the apartment and closed the door.

Hanley looked around. There seemed to be just two rooms and one was a bathroom. A mattress was on the floor in the corner. The kitchen was in the opposite corner of the same room, but it was so small, he couldn't see anybody preparing a serious meal there. The refrigerator was one of the small units usually used in college dorm rooms. Demi had spent some money on a television, but a set of rabbit ears antenna suggested she couldn't afford cable. A dining table was scratched and dinged. The air smelled like cigarettes and spoiled meat.

"We need to find Kelly," Hanley said. "Any information you have would be helpful. This was his last known residence."

"Are you cops?" Demi said.

"No, just very interested citizens."

"Then you don't have a warrant."

He noticed an open closet and peeked inside. It was packed full of women's clothing. The style was generally colorful, short, and revealing.

"That's true," Hanley said, "but we do have cash."

He turned and saw an eager expression on her face. "How much?"

"Plenty. What do you know about Brian Kelly?"

"We were close. He was good for me. It almost killed me when he left. I still have some of his shit."

Demi pointed to a cardboard box under the dining table. Hanley hurried over and pulled it out.

"Hey," she said, "pay me first."

He nodded to Katie. She took a cash roll from her pocket, peeled off several bills, and handed them to Demi.

Hanley dug into the box. There were stacks of books with titles like "Conversations with God," "The Secret Teachings of Jesus," and "The Many Numbers of the Beast." He also found thick bundles of handwritten notes. Hundreds of pages were packed with lines spaced so closely together, the letters overlapped. Algebraic equations were mixed into the sentences at random locations. Hanley tried to read some of the text, but he was quickly defeated by strange terminology and horrifying grammar.

"Why did he leave you?" he said.

"He was very sad about nobody buying his book," Demi said. "He spent years writing it and worked so hard. He even paid an editor to clean it up. One day, he told me he needed to find 'peace' and just left."

"Oh."

Hanley found paraphernalia in the box. There was a dented tin chalice, rosary beads, astrological charts, a broken black candle, medallions, bottles, and crystals. He put the crystals into his pocket because he knew they could be tested for exposure to supernatural radiation. Of course, Corrie had to come home before she could perform the test.

Keeping one eye on Demi, Katie came over to help with the search. She flipped through the books.

After a few minutes, she held up a business card she had discovered stuck between pages. "Ah ha! Maybe he went here."

She gave the card to Hanley, and he saw it was for a local Buddhist temple.

"It's a possibility," he said.

He searched for a few more minutes without finding anything else of interest. Judging by his possessions, Brian Kelly didn't seem to have a life outside of religion. He was pathologically obsessed with it.

Hanley and Katie left the apartment. When they were safely down the hall, he called Marina.

"Report," the commander said.

He explained what had happened.

"Visiting the temple at night is probably a bad idea. Drop the crystals off at headquarters. Then I want both of you to go home and sleep. You can continue the investigation first thing in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am," Hanley said. "Bye." He put away his phone.

"What a luxury," Katie said. "A good night's sleep during an investigation."

He nodded. "I don't know how I'll function if I'm too well-rested and alert."

"We'll just have to muddle through."

* * *

Ipo and Yang walked up to a little brown house in Hayward. The town was on the east side of the San Francisco Bay. It was generally considered a bedroom community for people who worked elsewhere, although one of the California State Universities was located there. Yang thought of Hayward as an uninteresting part of the endless sprawl that constituted the Bay Area.

Ipo knocked on the door. A moment later, a young man opened it. He was Hispanic, and he had an impressive amount of black hair on his head and face. His beard had been meticulously sculpted. He was wearing a blue shirt and jeans with holes in the knees.

"Yes?" he said.

"Mr. Jorge Alba?" Ipo said.

"That's right."

"We're looking for a book.
Symbology of the Divine
. You posted on the internet that you have a copy."

"Wow. Everybody wants that book tonight," Jorge said. "You're the third one."

"Oh?"

"I already sold it."

Ipo furrowed his brow. "That's unfortunate. Who bought it?"

"This guy." Jorge showed Ipo a business card.

Yang leaned in for a closer look. The text read, "Alexander Reinagle - Rare Book Broker." Ipo used his phone to take a picture.

"Well, maybe you can just tell us about the book then," Ipo said.

"I found it in a used book store," Jorge said. "I'm a Religious Studies major, and it looked interesting."

"Was it?"

"Not really. Kelly kept quoting sources that don't exist. His math was full of errors that even I could see. I think he made up the whole language. At least, I've never seen anything like it before, and I've read a lot of books on religion."

"But Kelly's text matched the writing from the angels," Ipo said.

"Yes. I was amazed when I saw the pictures. Theoretically, you could use
Symbology of the Divine
to decode the writing, but it would be a lot of work. The book was hard to understand and just not good, in general."

Ipo nodded. "I think we'll try to find this book broker. Thank you for your time."

"No problem."

Ipo and Yang walked away.

"Nice kid," Yang said.

"I bet he got screwed on the sale."

* * *

Ipo knocked on the door of an apartment in San Bruno.

Yang checked his watch and saw it was ten o'clock at night. It was very late to be making unannounced visits, but Ipo didn't seem to care. Yang had noticed members of the Society didn't pay a lot of attention to etiquette or manners. Marina's insensitivity was famous.

A man wearing a bathrobe answered the door. The robe had printed flowers on a black background and seemed Japanese in style. A gold chain was draped across his shaved chest. His blond hair was teased out, and a little gel held it in place. He had diamond studs in both ears.

"Yes?" he said.

"Alexander Reinagle?" Ipo said.

"That's me."

"We're looking for a book.
Symbology of the Divine.
Jorge Alba told us you bought it from him."

"Correct," Reinagle said, "but that purchase was for a private client, and I already delivered the book. It's not here."

"Who is the client?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

Ipo pushed him aside and entered the apartment. Yang followed, feeling a little embarrassed about Ipo's bad behavior.

Yang looked around. There was another man in the apartment, and he was just wearing boxer shorts. His body had been waxed from head to toe, and even his scalp was clean. He stood up with an alarmed expression.

The apartment was furnished in a very modern style. Everything was made out of gleaming plastic or metal, and the contorted shapes were unconventional. Yang wasn't even sure how to sit on some of the chairs. A bookcase was packed full of books which appeared very old, and most of the titles were in foreign languages.

"Get out of here before I call the police!" Reinagle said in a hysterical tone.

Yang closed the door.

"We need that book," Ipo said, "and we'll pay whatever price is necessary."

"You and ten thousand other collectors," Reinagle said. "
Symbology of the Divine
is suddenly the hottest property since Da Vinci's
Codex
. I made a hundred grand tonight, but I could've asked for triple that. You may have to go to seven figures if you want a copy."

"Just tell me who to pay, and let me worry about the cost."

"How do I know you won't mug my client and steal the book?"

Ipo narrowed his eyes. "What if I pay you a finder's fee to prove my sincerity?"

Ipo's approach surprised Yang a little. Members of the Society often pretended to be police or FBI agents to garner cooperation. Enemies were tortured until they complied. Buying information struck Yang as somehow lazy.

"My integrity doesn't come cheap," Reinagle said. "My clients expect me to protect them."

"This one will be glad he met us," Ipo said. "Will fifty grand buy his name?"

"Two hundred."

"That's a lot."

"A sleazy deal like this could damage my reputation," Reinagle said, "and reputation is everything in my business."

"One fifty."

"Fine, but I'm coming with you, and I'll do the talking. I won't let you screw this up."

Ipo shrugged. "As you wish." He took out his gray phone and made a call. "Put one hundred fifty thousand dollars into the checking account of Alexander Reinagle. He's a book broker who lives in San Bruno." After a moment, he said, "Thanks. Bye."

"What just happened?" Reinagle said.

"You got paid. Check your bank account."

He went to a computer in the corner and logged into his bank. His eyes widened.

"Satisfied?" Ipo said.

Reinagle nodded. "Theodore Kern has the book."

"Get dressed. We're going now."

* * *

Corrie was shuffling through the San Francisco International Airport. Exhaustion made each footstep heavy. After being away from home for weeks, she wanted nothing more than to sleep in her own bed. She had seen incomprehensible horrors during her travels, and she wished she could wipe some of the memories away. A sleeping pill and at least ten hours in bed was the closest she could come.

She arrived at the luggage carousel. She realized she might not recognize her own luggage. The commander of Houston had sent her home under chaotic conditions. She had grabbed a suitcase out of a closet without looking closely at it.

Marina walked up to her. Even in her state of exhaustion, Corrie felt a touch of fear. The commander of San Francisco qualified as an incomprehensible horror of sorts. Corrie had seen the aftermath of what Marina had done single-handedly onboard the
Fearless Star
. There were bad things in the world, there were scary things, and then there was Marina.

She was wearing a green shirt which was the same color as her eyes. Blue slacks also looked nice without being too formal. The fiery color of her hair was always striking. She was a naturally beautiful woman, and Corrie couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Corrie thought of herself as a short, fat slug.

"Welcome home," Marina said.

"You came to give me a ride, ma'am?" Corrie said.

"To headquarters. We have some crystals that need to be tested."

Corrie sagged. "But..."

"You can sleep when you're done. This can't wait. It shouldn't take you long to run a few tests. I'm sure you've had a lot of practice lately." Marina furrowed her brow. "It's been hard, hasn't it?"

"Horrible, but at least I got to meet a lot of very interesting people. There is a woman in Mexico City who can bend..."

"Shh. Not here. Tell your adventures to everybody tomorrow, but be careful. Don't give away information that might put another team at risk."

"I understand, ma'am," Corrie said. "No names or addresses."

She recognized her bag, but she checked the tag to make sure. Marina volunteered to pull the bag for her. The small kindness surprised Corrie.

"Let's go home," Marina said. "It's good to have you back."

* * *

Yang looked at the home of Theodore Kern. It was in a nice part of Sausalito and right on the Bay. Yang expected the house came with a private dock. Brown wooden shingles covered the walls, and redwood planks framed the windows. A hill forced visitors to drive down a narrow, steep driveway to reach the front door. The night was still and very quiet.

"Where did this guy get his money?" Ipo said.

"He buys and sells water rights all over California," Reinagle said.

"A contentious business."

"He doesn't have a lot of friends. He prefers books."

Reinagle knocked vigorously on the front door. Ipo and Yang stood behind him.

Yang expected Kern to be asleep or at least getting ready for bed, but the man who opened the door was still fully clothed in a dress shirt and slacks. He was in his sixties, and the top of his head was bald, but his skin was still a healthy pink. He was short and round.

"Mr. Kern," Reinagle said, "sorry to bother you at this obscene hour, but these men have an urgent business proposition for you."

Kern narrowed his eyes. "What proposition?"

Ipo stepped forward. "I want to buy your copy of
Symbology of the Divine
. I'll pay whatever it costs."

Kern looked up at the
legionnaire
. They were so different in size, it was almost a joke.

"It's not for sale."

"Everything is for sale," Ipo said. "The only question is the price."

"Not in this case."

"It's just a book."

Kern shook his head. "No. Brian Kelly might be a modern day prophet. His book could be added to the
Bible
someday, and I have a rare, first-edition copy. It's priceless."