The Goodbye Man

by Jeffery Deaver

  When he arrived in the Square, Shaw saw the Companions were talking among themselves. The ICs were clustered together. Four Selects stood, silent, looking over the crowd. Three had arms crossed over their chests. Their faces were stone.

  Behind the stage, Shaw could see Etoile, the other detective and Eli disappearing into the residence.

  So the detective wasn’t treating Yang’s death as used chewing gum at all.

  Would this be the end of the Foundation right here and now? But no, not yet, Shaw realized. If Etoile had marshalled enough evidence to directly link Yang’s killer—Harvey Edwards—to Eli, he would have brought a full complement of tactical law enforcers, Washington State Patrol officers included. This was merely an interview. A fact-gathering mission.

  Twenty minutes later, the two detectives left the residence and walked back to the helicopter. Shaw wished he could talk to the cops but of course that wouldn’t work. He wasn’t Colter Shaw; he was Carter Skye.

  The engines of the craft fired up and, with the rotor noise changing pitch, dropping in tone, the chopper rose skyward and vanished back in the direction of Northern California.

  What had the officers learned? And what was Eli’s reaction?

  A short time later the Beethoven notes rang from the loudspeakers and the voice said, “All Companions are to report to the Square.”

  No “please” this time.

  The command was repeated.

  Soon, with nearly everyone present, Eli and his entourage left the residence. The bodyguards remained at the foot of the stairs with Eli. Anja and Steve took their seats at the far end of the stage.

  The “Ode to Joy” played twice. Then Eli climbed the stairs and strode to the front of the stage.

  The ICs didn’t get a chance to lead the metric applause. The crowd just burst into frenetic clapping.

  Eli raised his arms.

  Cries from the ground: “We love you!” “Our Guiding Beacon!” “Master Eli!”

  Finally the noise diminished.

  “Good friends and Companions. My dear friends and Companions . . . Did you see that? Did you see what just happened? Some Toxics planted fake reports about me. Fake news!”

  There were boos.

  “Fake . . . Fake . . .” The simple chant lasted for a full sixty seconds.

  “A sad attempt by the Toxics to bring me down. That’s what they’d like. To bring me down. And bring you down too!”

  “No!”

  “Hell with them!”

  “We have a lot of enemies, you and me. Remember what I told you last night: the medical community hates us. Religion hates us. Politicians hate us. Because I tell the truth.”

  This started a chant of “True up! True up!”

  “And it scares them! But it’s the Toxics who should be afraid! I told them. I told those officers and now they understand. I’m being persecuted for my vision. I told them to arrest the Toxics who called them in the first place. It’s a crime, misuse of judicial process. And I’m suing. I have the best legal team in the country. They’re gorgeous! Nobody’s going to get away with trying to hurt you, my family!”

  Then, from somewhere in the back of the sea of Companions, a disturbance. Shouts. It seemed to Shaw that someone pushed another.

  The bodyguards grew alert. Steve rose. Eli walked to the edge of the stage, irritated that the spotlight had figuratively been turned away from him. He called angrily, “What’s that? What’s going on?”

  More confused words. It was hard to hear.

  Then a shout from the back of the crowd. “. . . questioning you! Master Eli!”

  Eli held up his hands for silence and peered into the crowd.

  A skinny male Apprentice, with a sallow face, was pointing at a woman near him. It was Carole, whom the detectives from San Francisco had approached upon landing. Her husband stood beside her, looking flustered.

  “She says you lied to us!”

  Turning on the spigot of murmurs.

  Eli said, “Hush, everyone!”

  Carole, red faced and angry, pulled away from the woman who was gripping her by the shoulder.

  Eli said to the slim man who’d called Carole out. “Tell me.”

  “She said . . .”

  Carole stepped forward. “I didn’t say you lied, Master Eli. I just . . . Well, those policemen. They asked for David Ellis. They said he was also known as Artie Ellington. And Hiram Lefkowitz. I just wondered, who are you really?”

  A collective gasp.

  Steve rose and whispered in Eli’s ear, then returned to his seat.

  In a solemn voice, Eli called, “Apprentice Carole. Come up here in front of me.”

  “I just . . .”

  “Bring her here. Now!” He glanced at two AUs.

  One of them stepped in front of Carole’s husband and put a hand on his chest to keep him in place. The other gripped Carole’s arm and ushered her to a place in front of the stage, directly below the cold gaze of Master Eli.

  48.

  Arms crossed, Eli looked down at the woman with an expression both bewildered and contemptuous.

  “Apprentice Carole. Did you think ‘Eli’ was my birth name?”

  “I didn’t know. It was just . . . odd. The police asking about different names you had. I was just wondering why.”

  “Oh, I do? I have more names?” Appearing deeply perplexed, he looked out over the audience, then returned his searing gaze to her. “Do I?”

  “That’s what that man said. The detective.”

  “So you know him.”

  “Know him? No. He just came up to me and asked where you were and he mentioned the other names.”

  Shaw glanced back at Thomas, her husband, who was arguing with the AU. The security man motioned to a Select, who uncrossed his arms and, in a slow lope, joined them. He whispered something to Thomas and the man fell silent.

  “So you’re assuming what he said was true.”

  “I . . . well . . .”

  “You . . . well,” Eli mocked. “Not very articulate at the moment, are we, Carole? You, well, don’t know him but you, well, believe it when he says I have different names.”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just—”

  Somebody shouted, “Yes, she did! She doubted you.”

  “She broke Rule Fourteen!”

  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the Toxic called the police, claiming I have other names?”

  “I just . . .”

  “Ah, we move from ‘I well’ to ‘I just.’ And you believed them. It never occurred to you that some Toxic learned that, yes, my given and family names are David Ellis. That’s no secret. That’s a matter of public record. Did you think I was born Master Eli? That’s not something you see on birth certificates, now, is it?”

  “No, I—”

  He looked over his rapt audience, enjoying every moment. “Would you see that on birth certificates? I don’t think so.” Eli leaned down. “I died in the car crash!”

  Whispers of sympathy for the poor man rose from the crowd.

  “I died! Do you understand that? And when I died, I saw myself in the past, and saw that I was named Eli. And ‘master’? A title, of course. One I earned, I like to think. Maybe you don’t.”

  “Shame on her!”

  “Toxic!”

  “We love you, Master Eli!”

  “Our Guiding Beacon!”

  A man in the crowd stepped forward and shoved Carole. She barked a fast scream and stumbled back. Eli gave no reaction.

  “Leave her alone,” her husband shouted.

  Another word from the Select shut him up.

  “So Carole here is accusing me of something I haven’t done. Is that fair? Is that right?”

  A gasp from the crowd. It took Shaw a moment to understand the reaction. Eli hadn�
�t used the title “Apprentice.” Was she being ostracized?

  “Punish her!”

  “Didn’t I tell you to look out for the Toxics? Look out for their lies? But you believe them, Carole, over me.”

  “No.” Her eyes were wide. “I was just . . .”

  Some in the crowd reacted with angry muttering. Someone, a young Journeyman, swatted Carole with his notebook. “Bitch,” he muttered.

  She was looking panicky now. “I was only . . . I didn’t know what to think. Three names, different names. You can understand—”

  “What I understand, Carole, is that I’m beginning to think you’re a Toxic!”

  “No. I just—”

  “Just, just, just!” His mockery was fierce. “Carole, when you told me about the times your father came to your bedroom, when you were a teenager, I was sure you were innocent. But, seeing you now, taking the Toxics at their lying word over me, it makes me think you weren’t so innocent after all.”

  “What?” Carole looked mortified.

  “I’m thinking you’re so toxic that your boyfriend had a good reason to put you in the hospital.”

  “That’s not what happened.” Gasping. “I didn’t do anything! He was drinking. He hit me. He abused me!”

  Eli smirked. “But he never went to jail, did he? If you were innocent and he was guilty, wouldn’t he have been arrested?”

  Red faced, choking back sobs, she looked toward Thomas. His face was a mask; apparently Carole had shared the hard details of her past with Eli but not with her spouse.

  Like a lawyer on cross-examination, Eli snapped, “Did your boyfriend go to jail?”

  “I was scared.”

  “So the answer’s no. Look at this, Carole.” He lifted his arms. “I was speaking to all our dear Companions, reassuring them that I can stand up to the Toxics. And you ruin it. Because you don’t believe in me.”

  She’d lost and she knew it. “Please, Master Eli . . . I was wrong. I just . . .” She froze, afraid to be mocked again. “I wasn’t expecting what they asked and said. I didn’t think. Of course they were sent by some Toxics. They were Toxics too.” Her voice dropped and she wiped tears. “You told my secrets to everybody.”

  Eli’s voice was snide. “Because you broke the rules.”

  Most of the crowd was glaring at her. Cries of “Toxic!” And then: “Traitor!”

  “Throw her out!”

  “Judas.”

  Carole held her hands toward Eli. “Please.”

  He shook his head. “I never thought I’d have to question your loyalty.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “What happens to Toxics, Carol?”

  She recited what was probably a lesson from a session with a trainer: “They don’t true up. Their True Cores stay covered. They can never see the Yesterday and can never advance to the Tomorrow.”

  Dozens in the crowd took up a chant of “Toxic!” Hands clapped sharply on the first syllable.

  Another man near Carole shoved her hard. An enraged woman slapped her face. Blood spurted from her nose, and she dropped to her knees, covering her head protectively. She was being pummeled and kicked. Someone flung a rock. It glanced off her forehead. She let out a faint scream.

  The AUs and the Select were holding back Thomas, her husband. Shaw glanced at Henry, the bald man he’d been inducted with. Eight or ten other Companions too. They nodded.

  Time for this to stop.

  But before Shaw and the others stepped toward Carole, Eli lifted his hands. Everyone quieted. “All right, friends and Companions, enough. Enough!”

  He strode off the stage and, flanked by his bodyguards, walked toward Carole. The crowd dutifully parted but not before one woman gave her a solid kick in the belly.

  Eli looked the injured woman over, lying in the dust, curled up, an arm covering her bloody face.

  Several Companions reached out and touched Eli’s tunic as he passed.

  He bent down and helped Carole to her feet, as the bodyguards kept watch. Shaw’s impression was that this had happened before; a heretic punished. Two of the women ICs glanced at each other, exchanging sly smiles. They were enjoying the incident.

  “I’m sorry, Master Eli.” Carole choked on her sobs. “I was wrong.”

  “My poor friend and Companion. A shame you’ve been hurt.” He looked out over the agitated crowd. “We never want violence.” But it was clear Eli didn’t mean this for a minute. He was close to smiling.

  “Apprentice Carole. Everyone! Do you see the risk that the Toxics present? How they’re terrified by my Process? By the truth? Do you see the lengths they’ll go to to stop me? To turn us against each other? To bring me down? They know I can revolutionize the world. I’m a threat. They’ll stop at nothing.”

  “Please,” Carol sobbed, “can you forgive me?”

  Eli studied her silently. Then he looked out over the crowd. “Shall we forgive her?”

  Calls of “Toxic.” “Punish her!”

  Most, though, saw that Eli’s retribution had come to an end. Steve began chanting, “Forgive her, forgive her!”

  The rest of the crowd joined in. The chant was accompanied by the sharp, insect click of clapping.

  Shaw glanced across the Square to Victoria. Who was not chanting or slapping her palms together. Emotionless, she stared at the sobbing woman and the man standing above her, his hand on her head.

  Shaw wondered what might have happened if a cry of “Kill her” had spread into a chant. The image of a frenzied mob stoning the woman to death didn’t feel at all outrageous just now.

  Eli embraced Carole, blood staining his white tunic. This was a man who couldn’t say no to a dramatic moment.

  “It’s all right, Apprentice Carol. All’s forgiven.” He looked toward Anja and gestured impatiently. The woman climbed down from the stage and put her arm around Carole. They walked toward the infirmary.

  The Guiding Beacon returned to the stage.

  Brilliant, Shaw thought. Eli had not only deflected attention from the police visit, the aliases and a past he didn’t want to come to light; he’d also made clear disloyalty would be punished. Carole had told her trainer of the horrors and indignations of her past, assuming that they’d be kept confidential. Eli, though, had weaponized them. Everyone in the camp now knew that Eli had something on them. Betrayal had been taken off the table.

  Eli announced there would be another Discourse today, an unscheduled one. Then he added: “Spend the next few hours on Introspection and journaling. And never forget: The best . . .”

  “. . . is yet to come!”

  The ICs leapt in and kept the responsive chant going, smiling and striding about happily, as Eli and his crew walked off the stage. The Companions dispersed.

  Shaw watched Carole’s husband walk quickly toward the medical center. Shaw then spotted Walter walking his way. The man appeared to be looking for him.

  “Hey, there,” Walter said, his face clouded.

  Shaw asked, “You see what just happened?”

  “No. Something came up.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Sally’s gone missing. She was in the room and I went out to see about that chopper. When I got back, she was gone.”

  “What is it exactly? Alzheimer’s?”

  “Yep. She’s on meds. Galantamine. Doesn’t do much for her.”

  “I’ll help you look.”

  “You wouldn’t mind? I’m more than a little worried.”

  49.

  Did you tell the AUs?” Shaw asked.

  “I did, yessir. But there’s something going on. They said I had to deal with it myself. Then they scurried off like nervous mice.”

  A disaster control plan was being worked out, Shaw guessed, after Detective Etoile’s unexpected appearance.

  Walter’s fac
e was contracted with concern, eyes shooting left and right.

  Shaw now recalled his earlier thought about the color of the shirts and blouses the Companions were issued. Easier to spot escapees, though also easier to find someone who’d gone missing.

  The men started searching the Square, then expanded their orbit. The woman would be confined by the natural and man-made barriers on three sides but to the east was the high cliff—an eighty-foot fall—and the path Shaw had found that would lead eventually to the highway. But stray from the route to the road and you’d descend into thick woods and a labyrinth of canyons and rock formations, hundreds of square miles of wilderness. Falling and exposure were the big risks. Other threats existed too: wolves and mountain lions, coyotes and boar. Rattlers could be anywhere.

  “Damn helicopter,” Walter muttered. “Took my attention. Next I knew, she was gone. Maybe it spooked her. I don’t know.”

  They tried the dining room. Inside was a table of Inner Circles, huddling and somber. The conversation was muted. Shaw also noticed a middle-aged couple in the corner, sitting over coffee. They were solemn too. He recognized them as two of the people who had stepped forward to save Carole from the mob. Shaw shared a nod with them.

  The two men continued to circle the camp.

  “Her short-term’s shot, a lot of the time.” Walter’s right hand was clenched. “She’ll remember what we had on our honeymoon dinner and what brand the plates were. The shape of the teacup handle. The name of the singer in the lounge. Forty-two years ago.” He sighed and squinted as he gazed into the dense woods. “Where are you, honey?” he whispered.

  As they asked Companions if anyone had seen Sally—no one had—Shaw observed that an uneasiness had descended over the camp. A division, it seemed, had formed among the Companions between Eli’s true believers and those troubled by his treatment of Carole and undoubtedly the bogus philosophy of the Process, with the flames fanned by the appearance of the police. He witnessed arguments, some heated.

  The two men walked in expanding circles through the valley, then took to the woods. “It’s like the forest preserve next to our house in Akron. We lived there thirty years ago. Might seem familiar to her. Another thing: she’s unsteady too. I got her one of those watches that tells me if she falls. But they took it when we checked in. They said, Master Eli can work miracles. She’ll be right as rain. So I gave in.”