“Where did he do all these things to manipulate his fellow man?” Joanna asked.
“Corinth was an intimate of the Medici—first Cosimo, then Piero, and finally Lorenzo. He was their confidant, their adviser. It is written he left Italy after Lorenzo’s death in 1492. His death marked the end of the Golden Age of Florence. After came strife and war.”
Ethan said, “And you believe everything fell apart because Corinth was no longer there as the power behind the throne?”
“Yes, of course. It is said he died, that his time was at an end.”
“Where is all this written?” Joanna asked.
“You will ask no more stupid questions, woman.”
Joanna said, her face expressionless, “All right. Are we to assume that you seek to make yourself into this Corinth? Peas Ridge, Georgia—not exactly Florence, is it? Where’s your Lorenzo?”
Whistler looked as if he would explode.
“I never heard of him either,” Autumn said.
Whistler calmed at her voice. He smiled down at her. “You will, child, you will. It is believed by many, the Father included, that Corinth did not die. Father believes Corinth went to Spain after he left Florence, that he joined a cult of psychics that eventually ran afoul of Torquemada. They were called Los Ninos en el Atardecer— Children of Twilight. Torquemada murdered them. He wrote of it, in great detail. He called them
“It is a concern that Torquemada did not write of Corinth’s capture along with the cult members in Spain, since the lunatic wrote about everything.
“The Father believes his incredible family descends from Corinth.” Whistler shrugged. “Who can say? It is appealing.”
Ethan said, “I thought you said Corinth was chaste.”
“He was. It was written that he had no family, but who knows?”
“So you see yourself as recreating this group in fifteenth-century Spain? Who is this Father you keep mentioning?”
Whistler nodded. “You will find that out if he wishes it, Sheriff.” He looked again at Autumn, and his voice softened. “We have made great strides here at Twilight. This is a place of peace and seeking. It is a place where you will be happy, child.”
Autumn didn’t answer him. She didn’t look happy yet.
Ethan said quickly, “How many people are here now, Caldicot?”
“We have only twelve here at present. One is from Spain. Of course all who are admitted to Twilight vow secrecy, just as the Children of Twilight did so long ago. But it did not save them. Torquemada heard of them, hunted them down, and destroyed them. That will not happen to us. We have always known we must be careful, we must guard our secrecy well. Very few people know of this place, and it will remain that way.”
“How can you be certain they don’t tell others of this place once they leave?”
Whistler shrugged. “Some doubtless do. But it hardly profits them. They all agree to arrive blindfolded and leave the same way. And al-ways at night. They do not know our location. And if they did know and were unwise enough to try to lead someone back here, they know our reaction would be—extreme.”
Joanna asked, “What do they all do here?”
“All those who come witness incredible powers. They seek to understand and to learn if perhaps they can develop these powers in themselves.”
“Have you found another Blessed?” Ethan asked.
“No, not as yet, but it is early. Today Autumn will join our ranks; she will become one of us. It will take time to find other gifted ones, the ones who will stand beside Blessed and the Father. Eventually we will become more powerful than your common minds can imagine Perhaps the boy from Spain is right. Perhaps Corinth will appear again.”
Ethan hadn’t noticed the phone on Caldicot’s desk until it rang. Whistler picked it up, listened. When he hung it up, he said, “It is time for you to return to the meeting hall with Kjell. Autumn, you will remain here with me.”
Autumn went nuts. She screamed, “No, I won’t leave my mother, I won’t leave Ethan! I won’t!”
Whistler looked ready to blow. Then he pressed a button on the side of his desk.
They’d come to a decision, Ethan thought, and he knew what it was. He had to be ready.
A moment later, Kjell appeared. He motioned them all back into the corridor. “I will see you soon, child,” Caldicot called to Autumn.
Autumn turned around and said, “I don’t think you look like Jesus at all. Jesus wasn’t crazy.”
61
WINNETT, NORTH CAROLINA
Another popping sound came from the black metal box and sounded like a gunshot in the small room. None of them breathed.
Sherlock bent down and examined the disarmed bomb and casing. She looked up. “One of the leads, it sparked. I’m going to remove it entirely away from the pack of dynamite.” She lifted the wire, touched her fingers to the tip, felt the heat, held it until it was cool, and laid it on the floor. “I think that’s what that noise was. I’m sure there’s nothing left in there to send us to heaven.” She held up the two detached wires.
Once Savich got the duct tape off Cully, he jumped up and stomped his feet to get feeling back into them. When he could hold his own weight, Cully walked over to look at the now harmless bomb case. “Thanks, Sherlock. Do you know when the next bomb course is at Quantico?”
Sherlock laughed, then she looked down at the remains of the bomb at her feet. “Homemade, professional— they’re all scary. My heart’s still pumping out of my chest.”
Cully said, “I knew if I couldn’t get that duct tape off my mouth, it was all over. I heard you guys kick the front door open and I’ll tell you, I never chewed and worked my jaws so hard in my life. I found out duct tape doesn’t taste anything like chicken. Damn, we’ve got to find Bernie.”
Bernie was probably dead, Savich thought, murdered silently by Lissy and stuffed into a closet. They were out of Victor Nesser’s apartment building in under a minute, running toward the deserted house.
Bernie wasn’t anywhere in the house, dead or alive, and they didn’t see any blood. It was one of those good news/bad news deals, Savich thought. If Bernie wasn’t dead, it meant he was a hostage, and they all knew it.
“We’ve gotta think positive here,” Cully said. “As long as he’s a hostage, he’s got a chance. Damn, that sounds lame. Why couldn’t he have peed against the oak tree right behind us? No, he had to go be civilized and use the toilet in the house.” Cully slammed his fist into the hallway wall and crumpled the thin wallboard. “Okay, they cold-cocked Bernie, tied him up, stuck him in a closet. After they left me to explode, they came back here, collected Bernie, and took him somewhere. Where?”
Savich said matter-of-factly, “They took him to a spot where they could see the explosion. There’s no way they’d want to miss that—all three of us history. As for the other apartment tenants, they didn’t care about them. Okay, Cully, you’ve got to think back and concentrate. Did Lissy and Victor give any indication about what they were going to do when they left you? Anything about where they were headed, where they’d been hiding before they came up behind you?”
Cully leaned against the peeling wallpaper in the small living room and closed his eyes. He said finally, “They were talking while Victor duct-taped me, like I wasn’t even there, they were that sure I was going to be blown up, you guys along with me—if they were lucky. Lissy starting chanting, ‘I’m going to be lucky,’ over and over again until Victor told her to shut up.”
Sherlock said, “Let me interrupt a minute, Cully. I’m wondering how they knew Dillon and I would be coming to Winnett.”
Cully looked blank, then he shook his head, sighed. “If they were watching me and Bernie—and they were— they must have been close enough to listen to me talking to you guys on my cell, just figured you’d be coming
