Brother Odd

CHAPTER 46

RODION ROMANOVICH HAD SOME CREDIBILITY with me because of his National Security Agency ID and because he was droll. Maybe it was the effect of rogue molecules of tranquilizers in the medicinally scented air of the pharmacy, but minute by minute, I grew more willing to trust him.

According to the Hoosier, twenty-five years before we had come under siege in this blizzard, John Heineman's fiancée, Jennifer Calvino, had given birth to their child, Jacob. No one knows if she had availed herself of a sonogram or other testing, but in any case, she had carried the child to term.

Twenty-six, already a physicist of significant accomplishments, Heineman had not reacted well to her pregnancy, had felt trapped by it. Upon his first sight of Jacob, he denied fatherhood, withdrew his proposal of marriage, cut Jennifer Calvino out of his life, and gave her no more thought than he would have given a basal-cell carcinoma once it had been surgically removed from his skin.

Although even at that time, Heineman had been a man of some means, Jennifer asked him for nothing. His hostility to his deformed son had been so intense that Jennifer decided Jacob would be both happier and safer if he had no contact with his father.

Mother and son did not have an easy life, but she was devoted to him, and in her care, he thrived. When Jacob was thirteen, his mother died, after arranging for his lifelong institutional care through a church charity.

Over the years, Heineman became famous and wealthy. When his research, as widely reported, drove him to the conclusion that the subatomic structure of the universe suggested indisputable design, he had reexamined his life and, in something like penitence, had given away his fortune and retreated to a monastery.

"A changed man," said Sister Angela. "In contrition for how he treated Jennifer and Jacob, he gave up everything. Surely he couldn't want his son dead. He funded this facility for the care of children like Jacob. And for Jacob himself."

Leaving the mother superior's argument unaddressed, Romanovich said, "Twenty-seven months ago, Heineman came out of seclusion and began to discuss his current research with former colleagues, by phone and in E-mails. He had always been fascinated by the strange order that underlies every apparent chaos in nature, and during his years of seclusion, using computer models of his design, processed on twenty linked Cray supercomputers, he had made breakthroughs that would enable him, as he put it, 'to prove the existence of God.'"

Sister Angela didn't need to mull that over to find the flaw in it. "We can approach belief from an intellectual path, but in the end, God must be taken on faith. Proofs are for things of this world, things in time and of time, not beyond time."

Romanovich continued: "Because some of the scientists with whom Heineman spoke were on the national-security payroll, and because they recognized risks related to his research and certain defense applications as well, they reported him to us. Since then, we have had one of ours in the abbey guesthouse. I am only the latest."

"For some reason," I said, "you were alarmed enough to introduce another agent as a postulant, now a novice, Brother Leopold."

Sister Angela's wimple seemed to stiffen with her disapproval. "You had a man falsely profess vows to God?"

"We did not intend for him to go beyond simple postulancy, Sister. We wanted him to spend a few weeks deeper in the community than a guest might ever get. As it turned out, he was a man searching for a new life, and he found it. We lost him to you-though we feel he still owes us some assistance, as his vows allow."

Her scowl was more imposing than any of his had been. "More than ever, Mr. Romanovich, I think you are a dubious piece of work."

"You are undoubtedly correct. Anyway, we became alarmed when Brother Constantine committed suicide-because thereafter, Heineman at once stopped calling and E-mailing his old colleagues, and has not since communicated with anyone outside St. Bartholomew's."

"Perhaps," said Sister Angela, "the suicide moved him to trade his research for prayer and reflection."

"We think not," Romanovich said drily.

"And Brother Timothy has been murdered, ma'am. There is no doubt of it now. I found the body."

Although she had already accepted the fact of his murder, this hard confirmation left her stricken.

"If it helps you come to terms with the situation," Romanovich said to her, "we believe that Heineman may not be fully aware of the violence he has unleashed."

"But, Mr. Romanovich, if two are dead and others threatened, how could he not be aware?"

"As I recall, poor Dr. Jekyll did not at first realize that his quest to rid himself of all evil impulses had in the process created Mr. Hyde, whose nature was pure evil unleavened by the goodness of the doctor."

Seeing in my mind's eye the uberskeleton assaulting the SUV, I said, "That thing in the snow wasn't merely the dark side of a human personality. There was nothing human about it."

"Not his dark side," Romanovich agreed. "But perhaps created by his dark side."

"What does that mean, sir?"

"We aren't sure, Mr. Thomas. But I think now it is incumbent upon us to find out-quickly. You have been given a universal key."

"Yes."

"Why, Mr. Thomas?"

"Brother Constantine is one of the lingering dead. I was given a key so I could let myself into anyplace on the property where he went poltergeist. I've been trying to… counsel him to move on."

"You lead an interesting life, Mr. Thomas."

"You're no slouch yourself, sir."

"You are even allowed access to John's Mew."

"We connected, sir. He makes good cookies."

"You have a culinary bond."

"Seems like we all do, sir."

Sister Angela shook her head. "I can't cook water."

Romanovich threw the switch that beetled his hydraulic brow over his eyes. "Does he know of your gift?"

"No, sir."

"I think you are his Mary Reilly."

"I hope you aren't becoming enigmatic again, sir."

"Mary Reilly was Dr. Jekyll's housekeeper. For all that he concealed from her, he subconsciously hoped that she would find him out and stop him."

"Did this Mary Reilly end up killed, sir?"

"I do not recall. But if you have not actually done any dusting for Heineman, you may be safe."

"What now?" asked Sister Angela.

"Mr. Thomas and I must make it alive into John's Mew."

"And out again alive," I said.

Romanovich nodded. "We can certainly try."