Bleeding Hearts (40 page)

‘It is beautiful,’ said Bel.

‘Almost as pretty as a baseball game,’ Clancy agreed. Bel ignored him.

‘So that was it?’ I said.

‘That was it.’

‘I was expecting more.’

‘The Disciples are small-time, Mike. I could show you a dozen cults bigger than them in the US, including the cult of the Sainted Elvis. They’re not big, they’re just rich and obsessed with their privacy.’

Bel turned away from the view. She had been bitten already, and sprayed more gunk on her bare arms. I’d bought a dark blue baseball cap at Archie’s, and was now glad of it. The sun beat down with a sizzling intensity. Clancy opened the cooler and handed out beers.

‘So now we go and knock at their door,’ said Bel, ‘ask them what the hell they were doing murdering my father?’

‘Maybe not straight away,’ I cautioned.

‘But I thought that was the whole point?’

‘The point is to play safe. Sam, have you ever heard of anyone leaving the Disciples?’

He shook his head and sucked foam from the can. ‘That was my first line of inquiry. If you’d been a real reporter, it’s about the first thing you’d’ve asked me. I was desperate to find someone with inside info, but I never found a soul.’

‘Ever talk to any existing members?’

‘Oh, yes, lots of times. I’d strike up conversations with them when they went into Port Angeles for supplies. I have to tell you, those were very one-sided conversations. Hamlet’s soliloquies were shorter than mine. I got snippets, nothing more.’

Bel was sorting out the food. We had ham, crackers, cold sausage and potato chips.

‘Bel,’ I said, ‘how’s your acting?’

‘I think I played a policewoman pretty well.’

‘How about playing a very stupid person?’

She shrugged. ‘It’d be a challenge. What sort of stupid person did you have in mind?’

‘One who’s on vacation and has gone for a walk on her own. And she comes across these cabins and thinks they must be a restaurant or something, maybe a ranger station or some souvenir shops.’

Clancy was looking at me. ‘You’re crazy.’

Bel opened a packet of chips. ‘Are you saying, Michael, that I’d be going in there on my own?’

‘That’s what I’m saying.’

‘Why?’

‘I think they’d suspect you less if you were on your own.’

‘Yes, but why do I need to go there at all?’

‘Reconnaissance. I want you to learn as much as you can about the lay-out, memorise it. Are there locks on the doors and windows? Are there any alarms or other security precautions that you can see? Any skylights, loopholes, chinks in the armour?’

‘You’re thinking of paying a night-time visit?’

I smiled at her and nodded. She wasn’t fazed at all by my intention. She just ate some crisps and thought about it.

‘I’d have to go into the cabins,’ she said at last.

I shook my head. ‘Just the one, the main cabin. That’s the one I want to know about.’

‘You’re both crazy,’ Clancy said, gripping his beer with both hands.

Bel finished her crisps and stood up, wiping her hands on her legs. ‘I need a pee,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you back at the trail-head.’

‘We’ll be waiting.’

I watched her walk away. I’d promised Max she wouldn’t be in any danger. I’d been breaking that promise time and time again.

‘She’s got guts,’ Clancy admitted.

I nodded but didn’t say anything. Clancy couldn’t get a word out of me the rest of the makeshift meal.

We walked back along the trail quite slowly, nodding to people who passed us. Again, we didn’t look at the cabins as we passed within a hundred yards of them. They were built on a fairly serious slope. Slopes and night-walking did not make good companions. But if I stuck to the path by the lake, there’d be more chance of being spotted. I had a lot on my mind as we walked the rest of the route. We sat in the car for a while. Clancy switched the radio on and retuned it, and I got out and walked about a bit.

It was over an hour before we saw Bel. She was hurrying towards us, her cheeks flushed with what I took to be success. When she gave me a grinning thumbs-up, I hugged her, lifting her off the ground. Then we got back into the Rabbit and on the way back to the campsite she told us all about it.

Not that there was a whole lot to tell. She’d found a young woman first of all, who’d turned out to have studied in England for several years. So she’d wanted to ask Bel all about how England was these days, and then Bel had asked to use the toilet, and only then had she asked the woman what this place was exactly. At which she got the story and even a brief tour. Because she and the woman appeared to be friends, no one else batted an eye at first. Then a man came up and asked who she was, and after that everything was distinctly cooler. She’d lingered over a cup of herbal tea the woman had prepared, but then had been asked politely but firmly by the man if she would leave.

She hadn’t gotten to see the inside of the old cabin, just its outside. But there were no alarm boxes, and none of the windows she’d seen had boasted anything other than the most superficial locks. There was more, and at the end of it I felt like hugging her again. Instead we celebrated back at the campsite with a meal cooked on our stove: franks and beans, washed down with black coffee. Clancy had bought a pack of filters and some real ground coffee. It smelt great and tasted good. The insects by this time were out in force, hungry for a late supper before bed.

‘Oh, one other thing,’ Bel said. ‘In a couple of days, Provost himself is visiting the HQ.’

‘Really?’ I looked at Clancy. ‘Any significance?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s rare these days, but not exactly unknown.’

‘It’ll mean his house in Seattle is empty,’ I mused.

‘Yeah, as empty as a high-security bank.’

I smiled. ‘I get your drift.’

Later, Clancy hinted at taking Bel into Port Angeles to check out the night life. They could drop me off first, then pick me up again on the way back. But Bel made a face. She just wanted to crawl into her sleeping bag with a torch, another beer, and her latest cheap paperback. I was pleased she didn’t want to go with Clancy. I sat outside with him for a while longer. He asked if I wanted him to drive me to Piedmont, but I shook my head.

‘I’ll do this one alone.’

When it was properly dark, I was ready.

23

I drove back to Piedmont and parked a little way from the trail-head. I was wearing a camouflage jacket and dark green combat trousers, plus hiking boots. I had the night-scope with me. If anyone stopped me, my excuse would be that I was out looking for nocturnal animals, maybe the rare Roosevelt Elk.

Firearms weren’t allowed in the park, but I had the 559 with me too, fully loaded. I reckoned that, laws or not, the Disciples would have an armoury.

There was half a moon, appearing now and then from behind slow-moving clouds. The cloud cover wasn’t thick, so there was a welcome glow, and as my eyes got used to the night, I found I could pick my way forwards without falling arse over tit.

I hadn’t done much of this sort of thing before, though of course I’d recced my hits. There was silence in the camp. Bel hadn’t heard any radios or seen any TV aerials. It looked like the Disciples were early-to-bed early-to-rise types, which suited me fine. Maybe they were busy making love under their patchwork quilts.

The old original cabin faced the newer ones, so I would be at my most vulnerable if entering by the front. I looked in through the rear and side windows, but couldn’t see anyone. The windows were locked though, and I’d no tools with me. I knew Bel could have used her skill here, but no way was I going to bring her with me. In the silence, the sound of breaking glass would be like a foghorn. So I went around to the front of the cabin. Then I saw the torch. I saw the beam first, scanning the ground. Someone had left one of the other cabins. If I moved, I’d be heard, so I stood still, my face averted, hoping I’d blend in with the cabin walls. If they shone the torch right at me, of course, they’d see me instantly. I held my breath and waited.

Someone cleared his throat. Then I heard water pouring on to the ground. He’d come outside to urinate. Yes, I’d seen a compost heap over where he was standing; no doubt he was peeing on to that. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, my heart thumping. Then the man turned and retraced his steps. I heard a cabin door close, though I hadn’t heard it open.

Quickly, I went to the front door of the old cabin and turned the handle. It wasn’t locked. I slipped inside and closed the door again slowly. I didn’t want to use my torch. It would be too obvious. Anyone stepping out to the compost heap would see its glow reflected in the windows.

As far as I could make out, I was standing in an office. There were two desks, and another table with office machines on it. I saw the outlines of computers and file-boxes, what looked like a photocopier, and several large filing-cabinets. I went to these and tried a drawer. It too was unlocked. I knew I really needed some light, so took the handkerchief from my pocket and wrapped it over the torch. Now when I switched the torch on, there was a faint illumination, just enough to read by. I started working my way through the papers in the first cabinet.

Though the night was cool, there was sweat on my back and my brow. The third drawer down was full of details about cult members. I checked out Nathan and Alisha. Alisha had joined in early ’86, having come west from Raleigh NC. Nathan had joined later the same year. His file gave scant details of any life before joining the Disciples, which was unusual. I knew which high school Alisha had attended, when she was born and where, what she had studied at college. All I really knew about Nathan after reading his file was that Nathan was his first name.

His second name was Kline.

It couldn’t just be coincidence. I tucked his file back in place and closed the cabinet. I tried a few other drawers, but didn’t turn up much. There was certainly nothing about the finances of the cult, other than the daily outgoings. The only way Provost could be financing the set-up was if he had a mountain of cash back in his Queen Anne house. I also found no evidence of conspiracy to murder, though any such documents were unlikely to be kept here. Nathan’s house on Hood Canal would be an infinitely better bet, and suddenly I was keen to return there and take a closer look.

But I had other things to do first. Beyond the front office there was a narrow hallway with doors leading off. More offices, by the look of things. I tried a door, opened it, and looked in. Yes, if the front desks were manned by underlings, then these two offices most probably belonged to Nathan and Alisha. One of them might even be Provost’s. There were no clues to the owner of either office, and the desk drawers and filing-cabinets were locked. It wasn’t very trusting, was it? It told me something about the Disciples. So open on the surface — witness the unlocked front door — yet with secrets which had to be kept locked up. I decided against forcing any of the locks. I didn’t want them to know how close I was.

Out in the hall again, I noticed a staircase. It was right at the end of the hall, and led up into the roof-space. I hadn’t thought about the roof-space. There were no windows up there, so I hadn’t considered it used. Yet here was a stair leading up.

I’d climbed three steps when I saw the figure standing at the top.

‘Who the hell are you?’ he said.

But I was already running. He took the stairs quickly, but not quickly enough. I was out of the front door and running. I didn’t think he would follow, but he did. He must have been wearing shoes, or the forest floor would have cut his feet open in seconds.

I didn’t have any plan other than flight, but of course my pursuer knew the woods better than I did. He hadn’t yelled out for help, so it was one-on-one. What’s more, I had a gun and a knife. I was feeling a little more confident when he appeared suddenly in front of me. I went for the knife, but he slammed a fist into my face and a foot into my leg. I knew he was trying for the kneecap, which told me he’d been trained. But he landed high, numbing my thigh but not paralysing me. He was quick, no doubt about that. But now I had the gun in my hand. He snatched at it, his hand snaking out of the dark, and twisted my wrist until it nearly broke. I let the gun fall and went for the knife with my left hand. This gave him all the time in the world to land another punch and kick. The punch caught me on the side of the head, and the dark suddenly became fifty shades of stunning blue. His kick was Kung-Fu style and just missed my heart. It had enough power to throw me back through the trees. I kept my balance, God knows how. I knew I had to get the damned knife into play.

The moon appeared, lighting his bare torso. It was criss-crossed with cuts from branches, but that wasn’t going to slow him down. There was a snarl on his face as he launched himself at me, hurling himself forward, arms outstretched. He knew all about close-quarters combat, knew I couldn’t use the knife once he got me in a hug.

I dived sideways, falling as I did. I heard him grunt as he missed me. There was a cracking sound. I got to my feet as quick as I could. He wouldn’t miss a sitting target. But when I looked, he was standing very still, his arms hanging by his sides. Then I saw why. There was a low branch sticking out through his back. He’d speared himself on a hemlock.