The Heaven Trilogy (104 page)
The noise came to his ears then. It was a slight grating and it was at the front door. He had not heard a car approach.
He looked up, thinking it was the wind—it would cease any moment. But it didn’t. In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, it was the front latch and it was being poked and scratched. Jan came halfway to his feet, his heart pounding.
And then the door swung in, open to the night, and Jan froze. She stood there. Helen stood there, wavering on her feet, taking in the room as if she were trying to understand it.
It occurred to Jan in that moment that he should scream at her. He should slap her and send her packing, because she was standing in the doorway, obviously stoned, slinking back from that beast.
But he could do no such thing. Never.
Helen took two steps forward and stopped again in a wedge of light from the moon, orienting herself in the darkness.
Jan stood up in the darkness and she faced him, perhaps not even knowing precisely who he was. “Helen?”
She looked at him with blank eyes glistening in the dim light.
Jan stepped toward her. “Helen, are you okay?”
She stood still, unresponsive.
“Helen, I’m so sorry!” He reached her and saw that she was trembling. He swept her from her feet, and she felt like a rag doll. A limp doll shaking and now whimpering with tears. “Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry,” he said.
You are sorry for precisely what, Janjic? It is she, not you, who has betrayed.
But it is I who love
, he answered himself.
Jan took her to the couch and laid her down. “Sleep, darling. Sleep.” He pulled an afghan over her body. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” He knelt beside her and tucked the blanket around her carefully. Tears were streaming down her face, he saw. And his. His heart was breaking for her. Weeping. Like heaven, his heart was weeping for Helen.
She didn’t speak to him for a long time, but he knew from her drooping eyes and sweet mouth, wrinkled with anguish, that she felt so much shame. So much that she could not speak it. It was this as much as any lingering intoxication that immobilized her.
Jan laid his head on her breast and he held her gently. They wept together for long minutes. Then she pushed herself up and buried her wet face in his neck.
“I’m sorry . . . ,” she whispered. A sob choked her off.
“Shhhh.” He pulled her tight.
She groaned. “No. I’m so sorry. Oh, God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry . . .” Her words were loud enough to wake the house.
But Jan couldn’t speak for the fist in his throat. He only wept with her and she kept groaning her remorse. It was a union of their spirits and it was sweet. The fruit of love. The stranger was right; his death in forgiveness was nothing compared to this joy.
Slowly she quieted, and he held her against his chest. Her body eventually stopped its shaking and then her breathing fell into a deep steady rhythm. She was asleep. His wife was asleep.
HELEN KEPT to herself the following morning, nursing a cup of coffee and looking as if she would have chosen to remain hidden under the covers given a choice. Fortunately the hours leading up to Jan’s phone call to the police were too mixed with speculation about their futures to give any space to the previous evening’s debacle. Now more than ever, it seemed that a meeting with Detective Charlie Wilks was their only hope to save Jan and keep Ivena safe. One thing they all agreed on: Lutz had to be stopped. Regardless of how they felt about it, he quite literally held their lives in his hands. And now that Roald and the council had refused to help, there was no one but the authorities to whom they could appeal.
Jan put an overdue call in to Bill Waldon, an attorney the ministry had used on occasion, but Bill was no defense counsel. He put Jan in touch with a Mike Nortrop who was. Nortrop heard the short version of the story and then announced that there was nothing he could really do until the police charged Jan with a crime. The minute they did, Nortrop would be at the station. In the meantime,
Yes!
Jan must absolutely turn himself in. Running had been a “cockamamie” idea in the first place, he said. He hung up with the insistence Jan call him the minute they had any word.
Helen still didn’t like the idea, but Jan saw no alternatives.
He made the call.
“Detective Wilks, please.”
“One moment.”
Ivena, Helen, and Joey all sat around the table, watching Jan in silence.
“Wilks here.”
Jan took a breath and spoke calmly. “Good morning, Mr. Wilks. This is Jan Jovic.”
“Jan. Well, Jan, it’s good that you called. We were getting worried down here. Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine. You’re ready to meet?”
“Yes, of course we are,” Wilks said. “I’ve been waiting for your phone call. Just tell me where you are.”
Helen suddenly leaned forward and waved her hand frantically, whispering words Jan could not understand.
“Hold the phone a second.” He covered the mouthpiece with his palm. “What?”
“Tell him to meet you alone, first. Not here.”
“I thought our point was to secure protection for Ivena,” he whispered.
“Just ask him. Please, it can’t hurt.”
Jan lifted the phone. “Hello?”
“I’m waiting, Jovic.”
“I would like to meet you alone,” he said. “Without Ivena.”
“Alone? That wasn’t the deal.”
The detective’s voice had tightened, and it triggered an alarm in Jan’s spine. Why would the man care? He glanced at Helen. “It’s me you want.”
“We had a deal, Mr. Jovic. Now you’re backing out of that deal, is that it?”
“Why are you interested in seeing Ivena? She’s done nothing.”
“That was
your
deal, mister.”
“Yes, and now I’m changing it. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yes, I have a problem . . .” He heard the man take a deep breath. Jan knew then that Helen was right. He could not trust the police. Heat washed over his shoulders.
“Look, Mr. Jovic, let’s be reasonable—”
“I am trying to be reasonable. But I don’t understand
your
reason. What crime has Ivena committed that you need to see her?”
“Please, Jan. Okay to call you Jan?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, Jan. You’ve broken the law, do you understand that? I can book you on a dozen counts as we speak. Now you don’t turn yourself in like we agreed and I swear I’ll put you away as a felon, you hear me?”
“Yes, but why
Ivena?”
“Because that was the deal! I need to verify her story,” the detective snapped. “And don’t think I can protect you if you don’t play ball, buster. Glenn may be the victim on this one, but believe me, he knows how to play both sides.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“You just tell me where you are.”
“I will call you back, Detective Wilks. Good-bye.”
Jan dropped the phone in its cradle, his head buzzing from the exchange.
“What did he say?” Helen blurted. “He went weird on you, didn’t he? I told you he was in Glenn’s hands. I knew it!”
Jan shook his head, unbelieving.
“The police are corrupted by Glenn, then?” Ivena asked.
“And I’ll tell you something else,” Helen said. “We won’t be safe here forever.”
They all turned to her. “Why?” Joey asked.
“They know we’re north of town. They followed me that far before I lost them.”
Silence settled around Joey’s kitchen table. No one knew quite how to deal with the revelation.
“Which basically means we’ve got a problem,” Jan said. “A very big problem. We have no one to turn to.”
“Karen?” Ivena asked.
“She has no political clout. She might be help in a courtroom, as a witness, but not with the police now. What does it matter if we’re in the right if Glenn kills Ivena? What we need is protection now.” He shook his head. “I can hardly believe it’s come to this. It’s a free country, for heaven’s sake!”
“Can the ministry help?”
“No.”
“What about other friends? Surely you have well-placed friends,” Joey said.
“I’ve been in the country for five years. Apart from Roald and Karen and their circle I’m only a passing face. And what does it matter? Glenn owns the rights to the movie. He owns me!”
“No one owns you, Janjic. What is this movie? I told you—”
“The movie is the future of the ministry, Ivena. Say what you like, but it’s the gateway to a million hearts. And it’s a livelihood.”
“Not if Glenn Lutz owns it.”
She was right. She could not be more right.
“Then what?” Joey asked. “I’m not hearing too many options that make sense.”
No one responded.
“It’s not safe here. What do we do?” Joey asked quietly, his eyes wide.
Jan knew then what they had to do. He’d known deep inside from the moment Roald walked out of the conference room last night. But it was suddenly very clear. He glanced at Helen and wondered how she would respond.
He snatched up the phone and punched in a number. The others only stared at him. It rang four times before someone picked up.
“Hello?”
“Betty?”
“Jan! Jan what on earth’s happening? The police are—”
“Thank God you’re there. Listen to me carefully, Betty. I need you to hear me very carefully. Is anyone else in the room?”
“No.”
“Good. Please don’t tell anyone that I called. It’s very important, do you understand? What I’m going to say to you has to remain absolutely confidential. You can’t tell the police anything. Can you do that?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“No, you need to be certain. My life may depend on it.”
“Yes, Jan. I can do that.”
“Good. I need you to do a couple things for me. First you must go to my house. It’ll be watched by the police, but ignore them. If they question you, tell them that you’re retrieving mail as you always do when I’m absent on trips. If they ask where I am, you tell them that I’m in New York, of course. You have that? New York.”
“Yes.”
“Under my bed you’ll find a small metal box. It’s locked. Take it with you. Can you do that? It should fit under your dress.” Jan glanced at Ivena, who’d raised her eyebrows. He ignored her.
“Yes,” Betty said.
“Good. And I need to meet with some of the employees tonight. John and Lorna and Nicki. Some of the group leaders. Not at the ministry.”
“My place?”
Jan hesitated. Betty’s house would be perfect. She lived on a small farm on the west side of town. “Yes, that would be good. Be sure that no one knows. I can’t overstress the need for secrecy.”
“I understand. Really. What about Karen?”
The question took Jan by surprise. “If she’s still in town, perhaps. Yes. There’s one more thing. I need ten thousand dollars in cash. You’ll have to convince Lorna to cash a check, but do it discretely. She may give you some trouble, you know how she is—”
“I can handle Lorna. Are you okay, Jan? This isn’t sounding good.”
“We’re fine, Betty. I’ll see you at nine o’clock tonight. If there are any problems, please leave your porch light off. I’ll know not to come then.”
Betty told him that she’d pray for him, and not to worry, she hadn’t been born yesterday. That much he knew. He wondered if sending her to the house to smuggle his safe out under the nose of the police had been so wise. He hung up and exhaled.
“And what was the meaning of that?” Ivena asked.
“That, Ivena, was our ticket out of this mess. Our only way now. And it’s your dream come true.”
JAN TURNED the Cadillac’s headlamps off before entering the long dirt drive to Betty’s house at nine that evening.
“Light’s on,” Helen said.
The porch light was on. “I see that.” He flipped the car’s lights back on and drove to the ranch house. A white picket fence bordered the small neat lawn. Jan recognized the cars parked along the drive, Karen’s blue Fairlane among them, straddling the grass to their right. He turned off the ignition and they got out.
“You’re sure about this, Jan?” Helen asked, standing before the white farmhouse.
Jan took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “It’s the only way.”
“He’s right,” Ivena said. “It feels right.”
“You’re not sure, Helen?” Jan asked.
“It’s not me. I like the idea, but I’m not the one jumping off a cliff.”
Jan pulled her hand and they walked up the sidewalk. “We eagles like the cliffs,” he said with a grin.
Betty answered his tap on the door. “Jan. Come in.” He ushered Helen and Ivena inside and they stood gazing at nearly a dozen familiar faces, now crowded in Betty’s living room. Silence swallowed whatever speculation the staff harbored about the meeting’s purpose.
Betty smiled and nodded at Jan. John sat beside Lorna, both intent on him. Steve wiggled nervously to their left. Karen stood at the back with folded arms.
“Good evening, my friends,” Jan said, smiling.
“Good evening.”
Helen and Ivena took seats that Betty had set out facing the couch. Jan stood behind his chair. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. And thank you, Betty, for getting everyone here.”
He took a deep breath. “So then, I’ll be as brief as possible.” They hung on his words already. Such a devoted group, so many friends. “You’ve all met my wife, Helen.” A string of acknowledgments. “Most, if not all of you, were at our wedding.” He paused and looked at Helen. She’d agreed to his plan wholeheartedly, but now she blushed.
“Some of you know the circumstances surrounding our marriage. But today you will all become participants in a dilemma that is changing our lives.”
Move on, Janjic. Tell them
. “What you hear may sound . . . unusual to some of you. It may even sound impossible, but please hear me out. For your own sakes, hear me out.”
No one moved. He glanced at Betty and saw her head dip slightly. Not even she knew what he’d come to tell them.
“Twenty years ago a priest named Father Micheal discovered a love for God, and he died for that love. Little Nadia died for the same love; you all know the story well—it is
The Dance of the Dead
. That love changed my life. It introduced me to the Creator.”
