Within a couple of minutes, one of the news anchors said, “Last night, a girl showed pluck and daring by escaping a would-be kidnapper in Bonita Beach.” He told the story, which must have been transmitted to the reporters by Lieutenant Stone. He didn’t say anything specific about where Shahla lived or where she was staying. Tony was referred to only as a friend. His name wasn’t mentioned.
“Good.” Tony was pleased. “Lieutenant Stone is protecting your privacy. We can take advantage of that. I have to call my office. Go ahead and finish getting dressed, and then we’ll put our heads together and try to create a plan of action. We certainly have more information than we had before.”
The telephone rang. The downstairs extension was in the kitchen, next to the family room.
“I’ll get it,” Shahla called. She was headed back toward the family room to pick up the rest of her clothes.
“Let me get it,” Tony said, following her as fast as he could. Maybe it was Mona, his boss. She often called him early in the morning with things for him to do. But by the time he got to the opening into the kitchen, Shahla had already answered it.
He heard her say, “Hello. Hello.” She looked at the phone with a puzzled expression. “Hang up. Just like we get at the Hotline.”
“Hang up?” Tony didn’t normally get hang ups. “Maybe whoever it was hung up because a girl answered,” he said as a small joke. Wishful thinking.
“Maybe it’s your girlfriend,” Shahla said. “The one who likes to put me down.”
“Carol? She’s my ex-girlfriend at this point. Very ex. And the likelihood of her calling me at this hour of the morning-or any hour-is about the same as the probability that we’ll get hit by a meteor today.” Unless she had had a falling-out with her boyfriend-Horace, or whatever is name was. More wishful thinking.
“I could hear something in the background that sounded like traffic noise. Whoever it was must have been calling from a cell phone.”
“That’s annoying. Makes it hard to hear. Like that caller I was reading about in the Green Book yesterday morning when I was trying to figure out what happened to you. It said he always played a television set in the background during his calls. Maybe he did it to help disguise his voice.”
“Who was that?”
“Someone called the Cackling Crucifier.”
“I remember him. He never gave the same name twice. He talked about religion and Jesus. You’re right; he always had a television playing. And he had a weird laugh. Why were you reading about him?”
“I’m not sure. I was going through the inactive pages and for some reason he sounded familiar.”
“He was worried about my immortal soul. He asked me if I was a Christian. He said he’d like to take me to church. He got pretty insistent. I was a little afraid of him.”
“Did he ever tell you where he lived?”
“No, he was very evasive. And then he stopped calling. I was relieved.”
Tony was trying to put some pieces together. “What if that call just now was actually from him? What if he’s trying to find out whether you’re here?”
“Huh?” Shahla looked at Tony as though she thought he had flipped. “I never gave him any personal information. Besides, he doesn’t even know you. How could he know where you live?”
“Stay with me. What if the reason he stopped calling was because he signed up to be a listener on the Hotline?”
“A listener? But who…?”
“How about Nathan? Didn’t he attend the training class that started soon after the Crucifier stopped calling? He certainly fits the religious profile.”
“Nathan? Nathan has some strange ideas, but I think he’s basically harmless. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.”
“I’ve heard Nathan laugh. It could be described as a cackle.”
“I’ve never heard Nathan laugh that I can remember. And I’ve worked shifts with him. I’d certainly remember if he had a laugh like the Crucifier. ”
“Here’s my hypothesis. He always had to be very careful around you and the others he had talked to on the phone before. And he probably altered his voice somewhat when he was on the phone, like the Chameleon.”
“The Crucifier had a fairly high-pitched voice on the phone. Nathan’s voice is lower.”
“I saw a plastic device at the Chameleon’s apartment that is probably what he uses for voice alteration. I did a little research on the Internet and found similar devices that will make you sound younger-that is, they raise the pitch of your voice. Remember the night that Nathan and you and I were working, and I got a call from a guy who said he was a former listener and was badmouthing the other listeners? Talking about orgies and stuff? Nathan seemed to identify with him a little too well. As if he were in his shoes, perhaps as both a caller and a listener. Or is that theory all wet?”
Shahla thought for a moment. Then she said, “Maybe not. I heard you get up, but I couldn’t drag myself out of bed. I kept going over and over what happened last night. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure I noticed something familiar about the guy.”
“Do you think you’ve seen him before?”
“I didn’t really see his face, and I couldn’t see his hair. But his size and the way he moved. It’s funny that we’ve been talking about Nathan.”
“He reminded you of Nathan?”
“I couldn’t come up with a name before, but maybe it is Nathan. You know how Nathan walks, kind of jerky, like a puppet being controlled by strings? This guy had the same awkward movement when he was trying to stop me from getting to the beach. He wasn’t graceful, like an athlete. If he had been better coordinated, he might have been able to do it. He was certainly big enough.”
Shahla paused. “But it wasn’t Nathan’s car, was it? I seem to remember that he drives a Jeep or something.”
“That’s my memory too,” Tony said. “But sometime after we attended that church service, it occurred to me that Nathan’s alibi didn’t hold water. He said he was at a service until eleven the night of the murder, but the way people came and went during the service we were at, he could have snuck out and never been missed.”
“He might even have returned before eleven.”
“Right. Let’s assume for a minute that it was Nathan who tried to kidnap you and that he called here just now. He could have gotten my phone number off the Hotline roster. He might have been calling to see if you’re still here. And of course your address is on the roster, too.”
“So he’s going to try again?” Shahla looked out the living room window at the swimming pool and shuddered.
“Don’t worry; it’s not going to happen.” Tony chastised himself for scaring her. “Go upstairs and get dressed. I’m going to call my boss and tell her I won’t be at work today. Then we’ll get on the computer. I found a website for the Church of the Risen Lord back when you and I attended the service. The first thing we’ll do is to check and see whether there’s any new information there.”
“Here it comes,” Tony said.
He was sitting in the swivel chair in front of his computer. Shahla was leaning over his shoulder, intently watching the screen. The home page of the Church of the Risen Lord appeared; it showed people being carried upward in an endless stream, presumably into heaven, where they acquired wings and started flitting about.
“It’s wonderful what can be done with graphics these days,” Tony said, hoping he didn’t sound too sarcastic. There were a number of hyperlinks on the page. Tony clicked on the one marked, “Day of Judgment.” A new page appeared on the screen. It was printed in large, bold text. Tony and Shahla read it together.
“To the Faithful: Hallelujah! The time we have been waiting for has arrived. Gather at the appointed place at sunset on Monday, September 30. Our Ascension will take place at midnight. You already have a copy of the bus schedules showing you how to get there by public transportation. Be sure to bring all your money in cash. Get a maximum cash advance on your credit cards. You must have divested all your worldly goods. Remember that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven. As we wait, we will
