with death.'
She sees him clearly, that much is certain, thought Doyle. He finished the last of his brandy. Jack could certainly be diagnosed as mad by any medical standards. Whether any sort of medicine could bring him back remained to be seen.
A sharp knock at the door startled them. Doyle cautiously opened it a notch.
'See here, Doyle, we need to talk,' said Major Pepperman. Judging by the lethal blast of his breath, he had been drinking heavily.
'Sorry, it will have to wait until morning, Major—'
Before Doyle could react, Pepperman had stuck a gigantic boot through the crack of the door and wedged it open. He took a step into the room, saw Walks Alone rising by the fire, Lionel Stern on the sofa.
'I knew it!' said Pepperman, pointing a finger at the woman. 'You're up to something dastardly in here, Mr. Doyle; I must insist upon my right to be informed....'
'Major, please—'
'Sir, I don't think you appreciate the risk I've taken in bringing you to this country. I have over five thousand dollars of my own capital invested in this enterprise, and if you are unable to fulfill the obligations of our agreement, it will leave me teetering on the brink of the abyss!'
'Major, I have every intention of fulfilling my obligation____'
'I know exactly what you're up to!' 'You do?'
'Running around with shady characters at all hours of the night, smuggling unconscious women into your rooms; why, it's been all I can do to keep the house detective from breaking down your door!'
Pepperman strode about, gesticulating wildly. Doyle exchanged a helpless, apologetic look with Lionel Stern, who hovered protectively over the crate holding the Zohar. Walks Alone's eye drifted to the iron poker leaning on the hearth.
'I must have some assurance, sir; I must be provided with a proper guarantee or I shall be forced to submit this matter to the attentions of my attorney! We have laws about these things in America! I have a wife and five red-headed children!'
The door behind him opened. Jack, Innes, and Presto hurried into the room.
'Rabbi Brachman has been killed,' said Jack, before noticing the giant pacing in the corner.
Pepperman took in this disturbing information, stopped dead in his tracks, and began to cry. 'Murder. I'm ruined!' moaned Pepperman.
'Oh, my God,' said Stern, sinking back down on the sofa.
'Even the circus won't take me back now.'
Presto went to comfort Stern, and Innes toward Pepperman, to restrain him if necessary, as Jack took Doyle aside.
'What is this man doing here?' asked Jack in a whisper.
'I'm not altogether sure,' said Doyle.
'There, there, Major,' said Innes. 'Not as bad as all that, is it?'
'Reduced to promoting weightlifters and bearded ladies in a traveling freak show,' said Pepperman, burbling through his sobs, dropping slowly to his knees and pounding his fists on the floor.
'Get rid of him, can't you?' asked Jack.
'He's very upset,' said Doyle.
'I can see that,' said Jack.
Walks Alone moved to the collapsed giant and took him by the hand; he looked up at her like a six-year-old mourning a dead puppy. She made a low soothing, murmuring sound, stroked his neck a few times, and Pepperman's sobbing slowly subsided. As he relaxed, she placed a hand on his forehead and whispered a few quiet words in his ear. Pepperman's eyes closed, his body slumped over to one side, and he was asleep before his head hit the floor. Loud snuffling snores ratcheted out of him, dead to the world.
'I've seen that done to snakes before,' said Presto, in amazement, 'but never to a human being.'
'He should sleep now for a long time,' said Walks Alone.
'What should we do with him?' said Innes.
'Drag him out to the hall,' said Jack.
'The poor chap hasn't done anything wrong,' said Doyle. 'Let's put him on the bed.'
It required all six of them to lift and carry Pepperman into the bedroom. Doyle threw a blanket on him, closed the door, and returned to the sitting room. Jack and Presto brought the others quickly up-to-date on the events at the synagogue; the men in black, their attempt to authenticate the book, the murder of Rabbi Brachman.
Never would have happened with the old Jack, Doyle couldn't help thinking: He would have anticipated their intentions, somehow prevented it.
'The same as the men on the
'The smell of burning flesh in that office tonight,' said Walks Alone.
'Could have been some sort of initiation,' said Presto.
'Let's attempt a summing up, then,' said Doyle, trying to impose order.
Jack laid out two pieces of paper. 'Before he died, Brachman concealed the information we asked for in his desk lamp, which Innes succeeded in finding.'
'Nothing, really,' said Innes modestly.
'This program lists the names of every clergyman who attended the Parliament of Religions. Brachman circled one name, a charismatic evangelist, an American: Reverend A. Glorious Day.'
'A. Glorious Day?' said Doyle, a lump forming in his throat. ' 'A,' as in Alexander.'
'The preacher we saw in Edison's photos,' said Jack.
'Who is this man?' asked Walks Alone.
'My brother,' said Jack bitterly.
Doyle and Walks Alone exchanged a look: This is the source of his sickness. She seemed to understand.
'So we know Alexander was here in Chicago and we know the name he's using,' said Doyle. 'Can we establish any connection to the theft of the holy books?'
'The second piece Brachman left is this note, written moments before he died,' said Jack, handing the note to Doyle.
Doyle read it aloud. ' 'Mr. Sparks: I am able to recall meeting Reverend Day only once during the congress. Many scholarly seminars were held during the week of the Parliament; I presented a paper at one of these meetings, on the significance of sacred texts in the establishment of world religions. The Reverend Day came up to me afterwards, fervently interested, and asked a number of questions about these sacred books... .' The note ends here, abruptly.'
'A sizable ink blot; he held his pen in place on the paper,' said Jack.
'Because he heard someone moving outside his room,' said Presto.
'So Alexander's interest in the books was born here, at the Parliament of Religions, while passing himself off as a preacher,' said Doyle.
Jack nodded. 'The first theft occurred six months later.'
'The Upanishads, taken from the temple in India,' said Presto.
'Then a month afterwards, the Vulgate Bible from Oxford,' said Jack.
'And the Tikkunei, in Chicago, only weeks ago,' said Stern.
'A trail that I'm confident would mirror the travels of this German collector,' said Jack.
'Who, I think we can say with some confidence, is in the employ of your brother; during those first months after the Parliament he made contact with the Hanseatic League and commissioned the thefts,' said Doyle.
'Exactly,' said Jack.
'How would he have known about the League?' asked Stern.
'During his years in England, Alexander established knowledge of and contact with criminal organizations all over the world,' said Doyle. 'To conclude the League was among them is far from difficult.'
'But why?' asked Innes. 'Why does your brother want these books?'
Silence.
'That's a very good question, Innes,' said Doyle.
