by Linda Barlow
“I can’t, Matt! I can’t let it happen! We’ve got to stop him!”
“The cathedral can be built again,” he said, wrestling her toward the door. How long till it blows? “Life once extinguished is lost forever. I love you, Annie. Stop fighting me.”
She sobbed and went limp against him. Thank God! He swung her into his arms and ran toward Vico, who still hadn’t gotten the damn door open.
Just as he skidded up to the teenagers, Sam’s voice rang out behind him:
“Stop right there.”
Again, Barbara Rae woke up suddenly. This time she knew it was hopeless. A peaceful sleep tonight was impossible.
Then she realized that what had awakened her this time was a pounding downstairs on the main door to the youth center.
She struggled into her dressing gown and descended the stairs. Her limbs felt stiff. Age was settling into her bones, slowing her down.
She expected Annie or Matthew, but it was Darcy at the door. “Thank God you’re here. I didn’t dare call the police because of Matt and Vico, but maybe I should have. Have you seen Annie and Matthew? They came over here to the cathedral more than an hour ago.”
“No, I haven’t seen them.”
“Sam’s a killer and Fletcher’s a psycho,” Darcy said. “We’d better call the cops.”
They made the call, then Barbara Rae led Darcy to the basement of the youth center, while Darcy breathlessly filled her in on what they’d discovered at Sam’s office.
“There’s a way into the cathedral from here,” Barbara Rae explained. “We can get in there before the police can.”
“Good. My instincts are screaming that we’d better get in there fast.”
Despite all the evidence, Matt hadn’t really believed it until now. Even though he had known for several hours that his oldest friend had betrayed him in the vilest possible manner, he hadn’t permitted himself to feel it in his heart.
Now, though, face to face with his nemesis, looking into the cold, hard barrel of a gun, he finally understood that Sam Brody had hated him for years.
“This is between you and me,” he said. “Annie’s not part of it. Let her go.”
“Sorry. She wasn’t supposed to be involved, but she just couldn’t leave it alone,” said Sam. “I really am sorry, Annie.” He looked truly distressed. “It’s never a good idea to get caught in the crossfire between two old adversaries.”
“Is that what happened to Francesca?” Matt demanded.
“What happened to Francesca was, believe it or not, unintended. She was leaving you. I still don’t know what you did to make her change her mind, but whatever it was, it wouldn’t have lasted. She and I were going to be together, husband and wife, just as we would have been if you hadn’t seduced her away from me twenty years ago.”
“If that’s true, why did you kill her?”
Sam looked pained. “She phoned me that night after the party. I think she called from a pay phone, which is why no one ever suspected me. She’d left the yacht to call because she was afraid you’d overhear.
“She told me she wasn’t leaving you after all. We argued. I told her to go back to the yacht and wait for me… I was coming to pick her up. But when I got there, she wouldn’t leave. She told me then that she was pregnant and the baby was yours. I didn’t believe her. I thought she was just making excuses again.
“She was hysterical, and it turned—” he shrugged, “violent. She came at me, actually, with those long fingernails of hers bared, and I knew from long experience how nasty they could be. Don’t try to tell me you haven’t had a taste of that yourself on occasion. I was in no mood to be mauled, so I hit her. She fell and struck the back of her head on the railing of the yacht. That’s how she died—or so I thought at the time. She wasn’t breathing. I got no pulse. I thought she was dead and I panicked. I was sure she was dead, so I pushed her body overboard.”
Where she had drowned. Neither of them said it. But it had been proven during the trial that Francesca had been alive when she went into the water.
Matt was trying very hard to keep his emotions under control. “That’s not the way a man in love behaves,” he said tightly. “Here’s what I think. I think you wanted Francesca purely for the pleasure of taking her away from me. But even more than that, you wanted to marry her to get your hands on half of my fortune. And once that became impossible, you focused on skimming money from the cathedral instead, since that was, indirectly, a way to steal money that had once belonged to me. A lot of money, incidentally.
“You’re not a tragic lover, yearning for the same woman for over twenty years. You’re a greedy, bitter son of a bitch who’s been nursing a grudge for decades because the kid you felt so superior to in college turned out to be your master in every way.”
Sam smiled genially. “In every way but one. You’ve never learned the fine art of dissembling, Matt. I’m an infinitely better actor than you are, and this is a culture that values the performance, the drama, a lot more highly than they value the truth. And wisely so, because truth is elusive.”
“I would have trusted you with my life! Anything you asked of me, I would have given you.”
“I know.” Sam shook his head. “You always were a sentimental fool, Matthew.” He made a motion with his gun. “Enough chitchat. Get over there—all of you. Up against that nice column there with the dynamite.” He took a quick look over his shoulder. “Jack? You still got that rope? Bring it over here.”
“What are you going to do?” Annie asked. Her hand had slipped into Matt’s, and he could feel the perspiration on her palm mixing with his own.
“Well,” said Sam, “I can’t blow the place until I’m at a safe distance, can I? You and Matt and the kids are going to stay here and enjoy the last couple of minutes of the cathedral’s short but glorious life. Jack and I are going to leave.”
“Don’t listen to him, Jack,” said Annie. “He’ll kill you too. The last thing he wants is a witness to the fact that Sam Brody isn’t the man everybody supposes him to be!”
“Don’t bother,” Sam said. “Jack and I trust each other.”
“Yeah, and you’re not going to let him die in the explosion because you need him alive in the aftermath,” said Matt. “Someone other than you has to be a convincing candidate for using that detonator. You’ll survive tonight, Fletcher. Sam’11 wait till morning to serve you up to the authorities as the perpetrator of all his crimes.”
Fletcher’s eyes flickered speculatively. He seemed dazed, and he was acting like an automaton, stiffly obeying orders from Sam. He brought the rope and, at gunpoint, grabbed Annie, jerking her away from Matt. Matt lunged after her, but Sam stepped forward and put the barrel of his gun to the side of Matt’s head. Vico, standing protectively in front of Paolina, eyed the guns in both men’s hands and wisely decided to do nothing for the moment. But his handsome face was set in rage.
Fletcher threw one arm around Annie’s neck and backed away with her. “You can do what you want with the rest of them,” he said to Sam. Now that he was touching Annie, his voice was more animated. “But Annie is mine.” He wrapped the rope around her body, passing it lovingly over her breasts, her waist, her hips, while she struggled futilely to free herself.
“Fine,” Sam said calmly. “Do what you want with her. It’s her lover I’m interested in.”
“Annie and I have worked hard on this cathedral,” Fletcher said unexpectedly. “Now you want to blow it up. I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Sam. I don’t think I’m going to help you do it, either.”
“You’ll do what I damn well tell you!” Sam said.
Matt focused on the feel of the hard round cylinder of Sam’s gun against the side of his head. He kept a gun and knew how to use it, although he certainly didn’t consider himself an expert with firearms. But he knew that if you had the gun, you should never press it to your victim’s body, because your victim could reach out and grab it. At least half the time, he could deflect it before you reac
ted fast enough to pull the trigger.
Half the time. The other half, you got a bullet in your brain.
On the other hand, if you were about to die anyhow… And Sam’s attention was on Fletcher, who was continuing his plaintive objections to the destruction of the cathedral.
Matt raised his right hand, grabbed the gun barrel, and wrenched at it. The noise of the gun going off was deafening,but he heard it, he heard it, and he heard Annie scream, so he must still be alive…
The recoil tore the gun right out of his grasp, but out of Sam’s as well. He heard it clatter as it hit the stone floor, and at that same moment he swung around and smashed his fist into Sam’s face. Matt felt the shock reverberate through his own body.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Vico spring toward the suddenly distracted Fletcher. With a bloodcurdling roar bursting out of his young throat, he tackled Fletcher and knocked him to the floor, where they rolled over several times, wrestling wildly.
Matt got off another blow, but Sam took it standing. He backed up a pace and struck back. Matt felt Sam’s fist glance off the side of his head as he twisted away from it. Gasping, he came back with a tight combination, two lefts and a right, the final blow catching Sam cleanly on the chin and driving him back against the scaffolding, which he grabbed and clung to, to keep from sliding to his knees.
Matt hadn’t boxed since college, but Sam probably hadn’t either. He felt pumped up, almost cocky.
Then Sam fumbled in his pocket for the detonator.
Shit!Matt dived to the floor, grabbed the gun, and pointed it at Sam. “You can’t blow it now. You’ll die too.”
Sam laughed. “Stop me,” he said. And, ignoring the gun in Matt’s hands, he swung himself up and began to climb the scaffolding.
Great, thought Matt. He’s going to kill us all, and to hell with his own life. “Stop right there, Sam,” he shouted. “If you don’t, I’ll blow you away.”
Sam looked back at him and laughed again. “No you won’t,” he said. “I know you, Carlyle. You’re no killer. Now that’s a perfect piece of irony, isn’t it?”
The gun vibrated in Matt’s hand. Do it, he ordered himself. Just do it, for chrissake!
He swung the gun instead at Fletcher, but Vico had him disarmed and subdued on the floor. Seizing a piece of the man’s own rope, he trussed him up, pulling callously at the rope and ignoring Fletcher’s cries of pain and protest.
“Nice work,” Matt said. “Unfortunately, though, Sam is going to blow up the cathedral and all of us in it.”
“He must be crazy,” Vico said. “He has chained and padlocked all the exits.”
Could he shoot the padlocks off the chains? Matt wondered, as, from somewhere behind Fletcher, Vico produced a knife that was huger than any Matt had ever seen before. He used it to slice through the ropes that bound Annie. She ran to Matt’s side, and Vico turned back to Paolina. The teenagers grinned at each other as if unaware of the danger still hanging over them all.
Matt glanced up at Sam, who was now high on the scaffolding—the same scaffolding, he realized, where Giuseppe had spent the last few moments of his life.
“You’d better shoot him before he gets out of range,” Vico advised. He examined the explosives taped to the column. “That stuff looks lethal,” he said calmly.
“Matt, if you shoot him and he falls with the detonator in his hand, it’ll probably go off with the impact,” Annie said.
“Maybe not,” said Vico. “His body might cushion the detonator.”
They all stared at Sam as if they had all the time in the world to contemplate the intricacies of the problem.
In fact, Matt knew they couldn’t get out in time. Sam had the detonator, and he could use it the moment any of them made a move toward one of the chained doors.
The real question was: Was Sam willing to die?
If he was, there was little they could do. If he wasn’t, perhaps they could talk him down, make him surrender, get a hostage negotiator in here or something.…
High on the platform above, Sam was watching them. Matt cleared his throat and called up, “Look, we can talk about this, Sam.”
His answer was a chilling laugh that, aided by the building’s superior acoustics, echoed through the building.
Annie pressed against Matt’s side and he held her hard against him with his free arm. He loved her, dammit. There had to be a way out of this.
“Annie?” a new voice called out, and Matt swung around, staring in confusion at the exits, all of which were chained shut. But somehow or other Darcy appeared, running up the steps from the sacristy and stopping short when she took in the scene. “Jesus Christ! What’s going on?” she cried.
“No, Darcy!” Annie screamed. “Get out of here! Hurry—get out!”
But Darcy did not get out, and neither did Barbara Rae, who was right behind her.
“How did you get in here?” Matt barked at them.
Darcy didn’t answer. She was staring up at Sam, high on the scaffolding, with the detonator in his hand.
“There’s another exit,” Vico said in a low voice. “It’s through the basement. It’s a secret passageway that leads to the youth center next door. That must be how they got in.”
Thank God! “Take it, then. Get the women out. Hurry.”
“Matt, there’s no time,” said Annie.
“There’s time if he’s afraid to die. And most of us, when faced with it, are.” He gazed up at Sam, who looked, from this distance, like a golden-haired angel. “Give it up, old friend. Any chance you had of covering this up is gone. We made several copies of both CAD files. There’s no way out for you except an honorable surrender.”
“Do you seriously think I’d subject myself to a trial?” Sam shouted down. “After what you went through? I’d rather end it now and have the satisfaction of knowing that I’ve finally finished you too.”
Not wanting to endure the agonies of a murder trial was something Matt could understand.
“Besides, you’re all here now, aren’t you?” Sam added. “Dear Darcy, and Barbara Rae as well. It couldn’t have worked out better if I’d planned it. The only person who’s not here is Sid Canin, but I’ve already taken care of him.”
“You killed him,” Darcy said, her voice flat as she stared up at the man she had loved to distraction.
“Regretfully,” said Sam, “he too was in love with Francesea. He thought Matt killed her, of course, until he got wind of Giuseppe’s suspicions about the structure.” He smiled, as if remembering. “It may be a while before they find his body, though. He ended up in the foundation of one of our other projects, just before the concrete was poured. Only his furniture went to NeW York.”
“Shoot him,” Vico said. He raised the handgun he’d taken from Fletcher. “If you don’t, I will.”
“No!” Barbara Rae said, her voice low but insistent.
No!thought Matt. Vico was too young to have a man’s blood on his soul.
Sam moved on the scaffolding. He laughed, sounding manic. “Let’s all count down from three,” he called to them. “Then we’ll go out together. If there’s an afterlife, I hope Francesca has learned how to make up her mind.”
It’s up to you. Decide.
“Three!” Sam yelled. “You ready down there? I’m gonna press the button on ‘One,’ folks.”
Barbara Rae stepped to the foot of the scaffolding. “Whatever you’ve done, Sam, it’s never too late to find the love and the mercy of God. Release yourself into the Almighty’s hands. Feel His love.”
Sam laughed wildly. “Two!” he shouted.
“You lousy bastard!” Darcy shouted. “Maybe God still loves you, but I sure don’t!”
Matt raised the gun and took careful aim. He steadied his arm, he held his breath, and just as Sam was saying “One!” and Barbara Rae was saying, “No, Matt,” he pulled the trigger.
As if in slow motion, Sam fell. Gracefully, like a diving bird.
And as he fell, something
small and dark flew out from his body and fell also, arcing gently down to the floor of the cathedral. There was nothing to do in those few seconds—which seemed to stretch out forever—but watch and wait for the explosion that would kill them all and turn the house of God into a fireball.
Sam’s body struck the stone floor only inches from where Giuseppe had come to rest.
The detonator landed perfectly and precisely in the newly installed baptismal font, and as it hit, a silver splash of water rose into the air.
They waited for the fire, thunder, an earthquake of violent sound.
They heard only silence and the drip of holy water from a font that, to Annie’s knowledge, had never been filled.
Chapter Forty-six
Six Months Later
Annie slipped into one of the back pews of the cathedral and pulled down the kneeling platform. She sank down on it and folded her hands together on the back of the pew in front of her, and briefly she closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she let the full beauty of the finished building seep into her soul. It was radiant with color and light. The fresh paint gleamed. The wooden pews were polished to a high gloss. The magnificent altar cross glittered like gold, and the dozens of chandeliers over the nave and bright sconces on the north and south walls banished any hint of darkness. The sun slanted, muted, through the stained glass windows, creating a wondrous pattern of color directly down the center aisle. And above, the bells in the tower rang out joyously as the hour changed.
The cathedral now was a very different place from the dark and gloomy unfinished interior that had almost been blown out of existence. It had opened officially last week for services, after Darcy had worked hard with a new contractor to reinforce the existing structure and resolve the safety problems. The building had been certified as structurally sound, and tomorrow it would be the site of a special celebration.
Annie heard a step behind her and turned her head.
“I figured I’d find you here,” said Matt.
He came into the pew and sat down. Unlike her, he did not kneel. She leaned back and felt the comfort of his knee against her back.
