“The Celestial Church of New Hope,” she said. “I saw it on the TV when we first got here. It’s a religion, or a cult, I suppose – however you want to phrase it. They believe that Jesus was an alien and UFOs are his celestial chariots, and that heaven is actually another planet that we will be brought to – those of us who are worthy.”
“Actually,” said Dorothy, “it’s the terraformed Moon.”
Dionne looked back at the screen. “Excuse me?”
Dorothy straightened her reading glasses. “I took an interest when it was clear you were doing so.”
“Right,” said Dionne. “Can I ask …?” She didn’t really want to know, but the question was burning away.
“Tatiana,” said Dorothy, correctly reading Dionne’s thoughts. “I ordered her to keep me informed about whatever you had her doing. For the record, she was very unhappy about doing it. She wants to talk to me later. I would imagine I might have a second resignation on my hands.”
Dionne nodded. “I’ll have a word with her.”
“Thank you.”
There was a long moment when neither woman spoke.
Eventually, Dorothy broke the silence. “I still don’t understand.”
“It was my idea,” said Dionne. “The whole thing. It’s all one big massive con. I know for a fact, because I planned it. Freddie, my ex, he took the idea and ran with it.” She winced as she shifted her foot. “All these years, I’ve been trying to put my old life behind me, and then I find out the damn thing is still out there, going on without me. Causing damage to more innocent people. It felt like I was maybe getting even, and then I find out this.”
“I see,” said Dorothy. “While I understand, we have to prioritise Bernadette and Assumpta.”
“I know. I thought it would be a couple of months at least before we could get McGarry and this Breida guy out, once we’d figured it out. I thought maybe I could take the time. This way’s better. I can excuse myself and deal with my personal matter. Sister Katherine will do a good job.”
“She is not you,” said Dorothy.
“Exactly,” said Dionne.
“Oh,” said Dorothy, “you should know that we got an alert. There’s an all-points bulletin out for your arrest.”
“I figured.”
“And you have been added to something called the Nevada Black Book.”
“Really?” Dionne was unable to keep the shock from her voice.
“What is that?” asked Dorothy.
“It’s a list of criminals banned from Vegas. It started out with mob guys, and then it became people who’d tried to take down the casinos.” Dionne shook her head. “The son of a bitch. He got me into the Black Book!” Clearly Freddie had made some very powerful friends along the way.
Dorothy cleared her throat. “You and this Freddie gentleman. Would it be fair to say you have a complicated relationship?”
Dionne laughed. “Understatement of the century, Sister.”
“I need to say this—” started Dorothy.
“No,” said Dionne. “You don’t. I understand – I will not leave this building again while I have anything to do with the operation, and rest assured I will not involve any of the other Sisters in it. All the order’s resources are focused on the primary objective. You have my word.”
Dionne felt bad. Nothing she had just said was a lie, but she had carefully phrased it to avoid an inconvenient truth.
Her phone beeped and she looked at it. “If you’ll excuse me, Sister. It appears the emergency communication protocol is ready.”
Dorothy went to say something and then reconsidered. It was odd seeing her look unsure. It was not something for which she was known. After a moment she nodded. “I will speak to you later.”
The screen went black.
Dionne sat there and looked at it. It had been a hell of a day and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
Chapter Eighteen
Bunny stared up at the underside of the top bunk. He still had a headache, but that might be as much a consequence of direct exposure to the sun as an after-effect of the “fight”.
He had been forced to improvise. Luckily, he wasn’t known here, and so the idea that five-foot-eight Shitty Whiteside could kick the crap out of him and attempt to kill him didn’t seem that fanciful. If news of the fight ever got back to Dublin, though, Bunny would die of the shame. Admittedly, as far as anyone in Dublin knew, both Bunny and Shitty were dead. Still, of the three revelations in the sentence “Bunny McGarry and Shitty Whiteside are both alive, and Shitty beat Bunny in a fight,” he’d like to think the third was the most unbelievable.
After the incident, Bunny had answered a few questions, explaining that this Whiteside fella had gone crazy and kept claiming he knew him. He had been trying to calm the guy down when he flipped out and started attacking him. Blake had seemed suspicious, but since then the guards had left him alone. Bunny just had to hope that there really was only one camera covering those bleachers. From another angle, his performance as “man catching a vicious beating” would crumble fast, and he would be in all kinds of trouble. As it was, with Shitty knowing his true identity, he was just in most kinds of trouble. At best, he had bought himself a little time – the key word being “little”.
Since Bunny had got back to his cell three hours ago, his cellmate had been watching re-runs of Jeopardy, just as he had when Bunny had left that morning. He was starting to worry that there was a twenty-four-hour Jeopardy channel, and that was all Breida ever did.
Ding.
Is the answer: What is the reason I went entirely insane?
“Rourke.”
He looked up to see the towering figure of Commander Blake standing in the doorway. “On your feet.”
Bunny got himself up.
“How are you feeling?” Blake asked in a way that didn’t really have the ring of genuine concern.
“I’m OK, I think. Just shook up.”
“Yeah,” said Blake, sounding suspicious. “Must have
