“He-you have to swear you won’t speak of this.” Cawood felt more guilt twist her guts as Juanita nodded innocently and crossed her heart. “Able saw another Angel.”
“Another Angel?” Juanita’s lips almost broke into a smile. “Oh no.”
Cawood knew that everyone in the Tower knew of Able’s first vision of an Angel and resulting redemption. The revelation had inspired the building of Archangel after all. But everyone Cawood knew had taken the vision as a psychological occurrence-a vision inspired by the minister’s potent but guilty mind. No one thought it was an actual visitation.
“Why would he see an Angel?” The Mormon was puzzled. “What has he done this time?”
“Oh, this one. I don’t know. He claims the Angel came to him with a new mission.” Cawood felt unsteady and needed the support of her desk again.
“What mission?” Juanita stepped forward yearning for closeness. “A mission from- God?”
“That’s what I took it to be.” Now that they were so close Cawood yearned for the comfort of the Mormon’s embrace. For a second she wanted to confess the truth. I’m a whore! But their connection was a sin already-the new filth was tantalizing.
“What mission?” Juanita was struggling with some inner joke.
“He said. Well…” She reached out to caress the Mormon’s shoulder. “It was something about redeeming an Angel.”
“Redeeming an Angel.” Juanita frowned now, though humor still twinkled in her eyes. “A fallen Angel?”
Cawood shrugged and nodded, hesitant to take further part in this betrayal of confidence.
“Not Satan?” Juanita closed her lips and then let go with a great ring of laughter. She bent over, resting her hands on Cawood’s shoulders. “Satan?” She laughed again, this time Cawood couldn’t resist. Such a weight of guilt was upon her that the absurdity of Able’s concerns grew ludicrous.
“Redeem the Devil himself…” Juanita’s smile was wide. “Oh, that Able he does fancy himself a handy servant of God All Mighty.”
Chuckling, the nun pressed a hand over Juanita’s lips. “Hush…don’t say Satan!” They both giggled.
“Well who else would it be, Karen? The good Lord wouldn’t waste Able Stoneworthy’s time with anything less.”
Again the pair of them curled over with laughter. Tears of shame burning in her eyes, Cawood broke into giggles. “Tomorrow morning!”
They both started laughing uncontrollably again.
“Around eleven…”
They were overwhelmed and collapsed into each other’s arms. They continued like this for some time, Cawood immersing herself in the release.
A quiet knocking on the office door interrupted them. The nun straightened up. “Yes. Come in please.”
Jane’s broad-cheeked face came in the opening door. She smiled apologetically then stepped into the room smoothing her tasteful skirt and jacket. “Excuse the interruption, Sister.”
Cawood wiped at her eyes nodding. “That’s fine Jane, how can I help you?”
“Excuse me, Sister Powell. I didn’t hear you enter.” She looked politely back to Sister Cawood. “I didn’t like the look of Sister Cawood this morning, and with her having to nap earlier on…and with the sounds in here, I thought she might have taken a turn for the worse.” She smiled hesitantly.
“Thanks Jane.” Cawood walked away from Juanita and back to her chair. “I feel much better from my nap. Sister Powell and I were reliving our times at the mission at the Mexican Crater.”
“Oh.” Jane smiled at Juanita. “It is nice to have friendship when the spirits are low,” she said now directly to Juanita, “Our Sister Cawood has not been herself lately.”
The Mormon smiled at Cawood and then joined Jane at the door. “Don’t you worry.” She slid a reassuring hand over the secretary’s shoulder. “We’ll both keep a close eye on her.” She looked back at Karen. “She’s doing important work! All that divinity is wearing on a mortal.” Juanita winked and smiled. Cawood’s guilt was now firmly back in place and held there by Jane’s Catholic concern.
“I’ll drop into your office later.” The nun smiled in a knowing way and nodded.
“You will.” Juanita nodded slowly and then smiled at the secretary before leaving.
Cawood looked at Jane and tried to cover her shame with words. “I want to thank you for looking out for me also. I’ve been involved in a project of some importance.”
“With Reverend Stoneworthy!” Passion leapt into Jane’s eyes.
“Yes.”
“I knew it.” Jane took two steps in. It was now that Cawood noticed her secretary held an envelope in her hands. “I can always tell.” Jane looked to the ceiling, color coming into her cheeks. “Reverend Stoneworthy is such a passionate fellow.” She hugged her hands to her bosom as she entertained a secret notion. “He is such an inspiring man; don’t you think he would have made a great Catholic?”
“He is a great friend to us,” Cawood said and nodded.
“I like to watch him. When I can. His face. I imagine, it’s the way, well forgive me, but it’s a saintly face.” Jane’s eyes moistened with sorrow or lust. “And I like to watch what goes on behind it. He’s such a godly man. Seeing him I know there is hope for us.”
“Of course there is.” Cawood dropped into her seat. “While there are people like Able around.”
“Indeed. And your own good work, Sister,” Jane said. “Though he’s working you to death with his project I’d say…” Then she lifted the envelope in her hand. “Oh, I’d almost forgotten.” She walked toward the desk. “I’m unfamiliar with the return address but a courier dropped it by just moments ago. I didn’t want to disturb you with it, since you were poorly.” She squinted her eyes at the writing on the envelope as she paused before Cawood’s desk. “I don’t know it. The address. And the name…” She slid her glasses on and held it close. “Brother Raul, it says.” Jane’s expression was thoughtful. “Dear, do you suppose he’s a man of the cloth?”
Blood rushed in Cawood’s ears. Distantly she heard Jane say, “My goodness! Oh, you look terrible I’ll go get water.”
Cawood gasped for breath against the rising tide of darkness.
25 – Special Arrangement
Balg kept a lot of skulls in his office, and the majority of them were human. There were horned and fanged versions of exotic or otherworldly shape, but there was no doubt that human skulls were the Demon’s favorite. Skulls decorated the ends of table legs, served as decanters for liquor, and crowned the backs of the large wide chairs that sat on either side of the desk. Smoke issued from the eyes of a particularly large cranium that Balg used as an ashtray. A long brown Cuban cigar was thrust like a spear through a ragged hole in the temple.
The Demon grinned at Felon with carnivore teeth. Moments before, Passport led the assassin up the stairs they had used to reach the Games Room and over an open companionway to a door facing the stern. The Demon’s assistant held it open for him, and then left. Balg was waiting.
The Demon was dressed in a dark purple silk tuxedo. His horns were more pronounced than on the last occasion they met, and his nose seemed wider, more goat-like. The room itself was alternately shadowed and lit by numerous thick candles, giving it a murky quality that made discernment of the actual decor difficult. As the candles flickered, shapes would appear from the gloom: an ancient bust of a long dead Roman senator, and the face on a forgotten Rembrandt emerged from the deep dark shadow. The desk itself was massive, carved from a single chunk of some extinct species of tight-grained black wood.
“Felon.” The Demon rose, flexing inhumanly broad shoulders. “Sorry I’m late. Success sucks. I’m always fucking working.” His eyes glowed momentarily. “Let me start by complimenting you on the professional job you worked on Stahn.” He clapped his taloned hands. “You are an artist. Honestly. A fucking artist. Please, please! Sit down.” The Demon gestured to the chair opposite his.
Felon took the seat, half-turned, keeping his peripheral vision on the door.
The Demon pointed to a large leather sack on the floor beside his desk. “Your payment and a bonus too, for carrying out your orders so fucking perfectly.” When Felon’s expression failed to change, or carry anything, Balg’s face drooped, and then flashed again into a hungry smile.
