He went back downstairs and scanned the area. Nothing missing. Still, there was something about the room that wasn’t quite right. The books weren’t pushed all the way back in the book case. The Scotch tape, scissors, odds and ends in the kitchen drawers weren’t in their usual place. In the basement, he found the CDs in the media center in random order. Some CDs hadn’t been fully closed and he always closed them. It didn’t look like someone who was looking for money, yet what would a homeless girl be most in need of? On the couch there was a slip of paper where Lisa had been sitting.
It was a receipt from the Columbia University Bookstore for a copy of English Romantic Poetry.
t was Saturday night, their last gig for the weekend and Rachel couldn’t wait to get back to the dorm. They rang the bell of an old colonial in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn.
Someone looked through the peephole, then the door opened. Sonia kissed him on the mouth in a way she hadn’t greeted the others. After the kiss, they looked at each other only for a moment, but it was enough.
In his open-collar Polo shirt and khaki trousers, Rachel almost didn’t recognize him at first, but he had already placed her.
“Rachel, isn’t it?”
“You have a good memory, Father. Nice house,” said Rachel, not bothering to remove the contempt from her voice..
“How do you two know―”
“Rachel was our guest at Transcendence House―only one night, I recall. I was sorry to see you go.”
“I got a lot out of that confession.”
“How was your trip?” asked the cleric.
“Evan, we took a cab, not a stage coach. We’re staying right?”
“Of course. I’m making dinner right now.”
“What’s on the menu?”
“I have your favorite.”
“Philly cheese―YES. With beef and lamb soup?”
“All of the above. And would you like anything special?” he asked Rachel.
“He makes awesome Philly cheese steaks.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Rachel.
“Let’s get this out of the way, and if one of you would help out, we could eat sooner,” said Massey, handing each girl two-hundred dollars. Rachel volunteered for the kitchen duty.
Father Massey put the ketchup and onions on the granite island. “I already thawed out the beef. Just cut the onions and peppers to your liking.”
“Could I ask you a personal question, Father?”
“Call me Evan.”
“Is this your place or the Church’s?”
“Mine. I’m a diocesan priest. We’re allowed to own things. Orders like the Franciscans or Dominicans require a vow of poverty. Pass me that knife, if you would.”
Rachel stood diagonal to him across the countertop. She watched his hands slicing lettuce, carving cheese swiftly, expertly. Could these same hands that elevate the Host have butchered Olivia?
Volunteering to help him was a bad idea. There had to be a special discomfort in hearing someone’s confession, giving penance and blessing, only to later have the process reversed.
“How do you know Sonia? Or did you just come highly recommended?”
“Oh, she and I go back.”
“Can’t go back that far, Father―she’s only sixteen.”
“She stayed in Transcendence House a couple of years ago.”
“Was she in one of those job placement programs?”
“Yes, she was.”
“Did you place her in this job?”
“Sonia has an independent mind. She didn’t cotton to structure. You should get into a program of some kind. Doesn’t have to be Transcendence House. Pan’s ready. Put on the beef.”
Rachel’s fear gave way to anger. There was no description for the size of this man’s ego. Totally blind to his own hypocrisy, he saw himself fit to be counselor, elder, Shepherd of Christ. She couldn’t take it anymore.
“Father, the way I understand it, we’re not here for a prayer meeting.”
The knife stilled in his hand as she wounded him.
“If you want me to leave now, I will,” she said.
After a moment, he turned the beef.
“No, I deserved that.” He pressed the onions down with a spatula. Steam rose up. “I’ve made more mistakes than three people make in a lifetime and maybe becoming a priest was one of them. But I’ve learned from them.”
A bead of sweat began to form on the priest’s forehead, but it might have been from the pan.
He turned up the fire and shook the heavy iron skillet. Rachel thought of all the implements on this counter alone that could be used as a murder weapon. So it must be in the mind of a monster that also does good. Every thought, however beneficent, was also possessed of a handle, a point, an edge.
“Would you like yours cut in half?” he asked.
“I’ll take it just like that.”
At least he didn’t say grace at dinner.
Afterward, Rachel figured it would be show time, but instead, they watched Titanic. Following the long, sad movie, Sonia retired to the bedroom with her client.
After a settling-in period, Rachel opened the door to the study. There were miles of book cases. There was Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth, a well-thumbed copy of The Seven Story Mountain by Thomas Merton and another called The Infinite Reservoir, which was the account of his mission in India. How to Work a Room. Men Are from Mars, Women are from Venus. How to Read a Person Like a Book. His taste in music ranged from Handel’s Messiah to Tomita and Led Zeppelin.
It appeared the priest had a merchandising business selling Transcendence House T-shirts, mugs, copies of his book, a newsletter.
She opened the coffee table doors and sifted through old Reader’s Digests, issues of This Old House, and Broadway playbills. She looked under the cushions of the sofa. What was she looking for? A pair of Olivia’s panties? A journal where he confessed everything?
A half hour later, footsteps. She grabbed The Seven Story Mountain.
The priest stood at the doorway wearing a bathrobe. There was no longer any pretense. Rachel looked at him, waiting for him to speak first.
“I read that once a year,” he said.
“You get that much out of it?”
“Oh, yes.” He sat down across from Rachel. “It’s such a rich book. Like a great musical composition. You can always find more in it every time you look. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think so. I read the Diary of Anne Frank three times.”
“Did you? That was one of my favorite books growing up.”
“You should read it again.”
“There’s a new version out. A definitive version where she writes about her budding sexuality, her period, her interest in boys. That was left out in earlier editions. Have you read it?”
“You’re quite the conversationalist, Father.”
“I have many interests.”
“Was I making too much noise down here? I’ll be quiet.”
“You weren’t making any noise at all.”
“That was a good dinner. Thanks again. Oh, I should give this back to you.” She put the two-hundred on the table. “Seeing as I didn’t earn it.”
“No, you hang on to that.”
Faith, Hope, and Charity―one out of three ain’t bad.
“I know I have no credibility in your eyes, but why don’t you come back to Transcendence House? I’m sure there’s something we can do for you.”
“No offense, Father, but you’re the one who needs help.”
“No one is pure evil, Rachel. Look around you. This is the good side of me, which is just as real as my flaws. You see these pictures of me with mayors and governors and philanthropists. I leave them on the wall to remind myself that there’s a better side to my nature.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t want you to hate me. I force no one.”
“Pardon my asking, Father, but what did your vows include?”
“A
promise to befriend. And to strive in the face of hopeless temptation. I knew I couldn’t keep their vows, so I made up my own.”
“Are you trying to be my friend?”
“Always.”
“I can’t accept your friendship.”
“I guess I’m not used to being with someone who can see straight through me. What do you see, Rachel?”
“My opinion matters?”
“I wouldn’t be asking.”
She was torn between truth and guile. “I see a very handsome man with a secret. That’s usually a good thing, but not this time.”
“There’s something else you don’t see. That no one sees. A lonely man. Do you know what loneliness is, Rachel?”
“I’ve had moments. But I’m young and I live in the hope of having a boyfriend, a husband, a family. So there’s an end to that tunnel.”
“I stare into that tunnel every day. You can be the light at the end of it. Rachel, I can love you.”
She looked toward the ceiling where Sonia lay in bed.
“With Sonia and me―it’s just sex. She knows it and I know it. I also want love.” He sat next to her and took her hand. “Do you want love, Rachel?”
“I want truth. I need to know what happened to Olivia. And I think you know, Father.”
assey picked up The Seven Story Mountain and opened it. “The search for truth can take us to ugly places,” he said as if the truth sat there in his hands. “But if you want truth, then let’s begin with yourself.” He closed the book and laid it back on the coffee table. “Who are you really? There is no Rachel Barino from Vermont. We follow up on all our kids.”
“I don’t want my parents notified. I’m never going back. I’m on my own now.”
“More reason to have friends who can help.”
“And you want to be one of those friends.”
“I want you to be my friend. I do need redemption, Rachel. And you can help me. I have to start over.”
“With me?”
“If you’ll let me.”
“I don’t know if I’m your type, Father. I’m really eighteen, not sixteen.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Did you fall in love with Olivia? Anyone would.”
“Olivia was well-intentioned. But her work drew her into things she couldn’t deal with. The streets took her over.”
“Did she know about you?”
“You mean about my imperfections? Yes. She didn’t pass judgment.”
He was telling the truth, but not the whole truth. After Olivia had caught him with Gabriella at the retreat, Massey had to find a way to assassinate her character in case she went public with what she saw. When Olivia told him about her sister in the brothel and the money needed to free her, Massey gave her Sonia’s number. He knew Sonia would take care of the rest.
“I can say this: I’ve broken all my vows, but I’ve kept all my promises. In this day and age, that’s more than most. Remember your own weakness before you judge me. Remember what you confessed to me.”
Rachel had confessed that she’d had an affair with a priest who was then transferred to another parish. She had deliberately picked that sin in order to tempt him into seducing her, exposing himself.
“Did you love the priest you spoke about?”
She wanted to torment him.
“Yes, I loved him.”
“How am I different from him?”
“You’re younger than he was.”
“He was older?” It came out of him involuntarily. And, as in Dr. Sartorius’ house, she felt the power she had over this man. But she herself wasn’t immune. She couldn’t get a date with boys her own age, yet now she had entered into a world where she was the most desirable thing there was. Where men of fame and fortune would risk everything, sacrifice all that they were for her love.
“Where’s Olivia?” she asked the priest.
“I had to ask her to leave Transcendence House.”
“Why?”
“She had compromised our principles. She was stripping on the side. She was unworthy to counsel our kids.”
“But you’re worthy?”
“No. I admit it. But I’m fighting against this terrible flaw that I have.”
“She stopped stripping. Then what happened?”
“From what I understand, she started selling her body. I just couldn’t save her. I’ll be lucky if I can save myself. You can help me, Rachel. I need your help. Promise me you’ll think about it.” He kissed her hand, then left her.
Rachel pretended to go to sleep on the couch. Once all was quiet above, she got up and went back to the library. No PC anywhere. Nothing in the living room or dining room. No iPods or cameras. She looked in the media library, in the TV cabinet. There was nothing―no porn of any kind, no laptop. Just books and photos everywhere.
She went down the stairs to the basement, bracing herself on the rail to put minimum weight on the steps. Every squeak was magnified. In the gym there was a Bowflex Extreme, weights, a treadmill, and a boxing speed bag. Nothing unusual in there.
Back in the living room, Rachel lay on the couch in the dark. Even if he had a PC at the office, he still had to have one at home―who didn’t? Was it in the bedroom where Sonia now lay next to him?
Was she wasting her time, abasing herself for nothing? Dammit, this was the one PC she had to get into.
Now that her eyes were adjusting to the dark, she began to perceive a faint green light pulsing every few seconds. As her night vision got better, the light grew brighter. A carbon monoxide alarm? Smoke alarm? She got up and followed the blinking light. It originated from atop the bookshelf. Standing up on a chair, she finally saw what it was. A wireless router. So he did have a PC somewhere in this house.
Rachel took a photo of the router with her cell phone. A Netgear MR814. That was going to be her way in.
“Sorry I can’t offer you guys breakfast, but I’m running late,” he said the next morning.
Rachel scrambled up and started folding the sheets.
“I’ll take care of that, don’t bother,” said the priest, all business now.
She made it to the bathroom, where she quickly washed her face and used the john. Two minutes later, they were out the door.
“I feel like hell,” said Rachel as they walked around the corner.
“You look it. There’s a place down the block. We can get some eats.”
At the Belgian Deli, Sonia grabbed a table while Rachel stood in line.
“Get me a bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll with an OJ,” said Sonia. “Hey, do you have a tampon?”
“In my knapsack.”
When Rachel got back with the food, Sonia just stared.
“Something wrong?” asked Rachel.
“You tell me.”
“Everything seems okay.”
“It should. For you.”
Rachel’s stomach was pulling down on her throat. Her knapsack contained her Columbia ID and a copy of this semester’s bill with her address and telephone number. For a moment, she had forgotten about her dual life.
“Tell me something. Are you homeless?”
“No. I’m not. Sonia―”
“What are you―writing a fucking term paper about me?”
“No.”
“I’m sure you’ll get an A. I gave you a lot of material. I guess you’ll be discussing it in class like a show and tell. You used me. How could you pretend to me that you’re on the streets when all the time you live on Long Island? You fucked me worse than any of those men.”
“I only did it because of Olivia―she’s my sister and I’m looking for her.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re the lowest thing I ever met, lower than I can ever stoop.”
“It was killing me―Sonia, don’t go. I couldn’t take lying to you anymore and I was going to tell you.” She walked off. Rachel went after her, took her arm, but Sonia tore it away. Rachel had taken away the little this girl had.
Sonia turned and s
poke the words that disemboweled Rachel.
“You used me. And I thought I was keeping you clean by fucking those guys.”
achel took the somber train ride back to the dorm. She called her mother.
“Anything arrive for Olivia?” she asked.
“There’s been no mail for a week.”
A week without mail? Olivia wouldn’t have wanted her parents to intercept the passport, which would have come in an envelope from the State Department. Could she have suspended the mail, so she could go pick it up herself?
“I’m here to pick up the mail for Olivia Wallen,” said Rachel, handing her driver’s license to the lady at the post office. “I’m her sister.”
“Were you her designee?”
“Yes.”
The lady went to the back and Rachel tried to think of an excuse if the clerk came back to say Rachel wasn’t the designee. Instead, she had the mail in her hand. “Please sign here.” Rachel looked at the suspension of mail form. Olivia had written Rachel Wallen in the designee box.
Rachel quickly went through the six-inch pile of mail in her car. And there it was―an envelope from the State Department. She tore it open and there was the passport in the name of Olivia Wallen. She had deliberately worn a T-shirt and no makeup.
Rachel locked her bedroom door and counted all the money she had earned in the last eight days. It took a while to count. $3,222. God.
Expedia.com offered flights from Chiang Mai to New York for $1,697 over the next week.
She selected five flights leaving on different days, which she emailed to Achara along with the Expedia website. That left over fifteen-hundred for the corrupt officials.
One good deed done. Her thoughts now turned to Father Massey’s PC. That would have to wait until tonight.
At 10:00 p.m., Rachel pulled her car up to Massey’s house. She powered up her laptop and went down the list of available wireless networks in the area. All were secured. Shit. She’d have to crack the encrypted key in order to penetrate the network and that took time.
She pulled the car directly in front of Massey’s house and saw the signal strength decrease for three networks and increase for the other three. That narrowed it down to Summit, Network9, and Icarus networks. She put the car back four lengths to get out of sight and began.
The Schwarzschild Radius Page 16
