Knock Out

68

PEAS RIDGE, GEORGIA

When the door closed behind him, Ethan whirled around, but Caldicot hadn’t come in.

Ethan turned to see an old man sitting on an immense, beautifully carved golden chair that would have suited Queen Victoria. He had to be at least eighty. He looked frail and insubstantial, with wispy clumps of white hair on his head and a seamed face. All in all, he would have looked like a pleasant old geezer if not for his pinched mouth, small and mean. Despite the gentle voice, what Ethan saw was decade upon decade of pettiness and ill will toward others. The old man’s eyes were dark with intelligence, and with power, as he looked at Ethan. His body might be old, but his mind was fit. He wore a long white robe pulled together at his meager waist with a gold belt, like Whistler’s.

“Good evening, Sheriff Merriweather. You will be fine in just another moment. The gas is a special compound that acts very quickly and dissipates just as quickly. Caldicot told me about the clothes both you and Joanna used to try to keep out the gas. Very creative. Caldicot was amused, except for the fact that you killed poor Kjell. And of course Blessed is injured. He is on the floor of my study, weeping. He is inconsolable. What did Autumn do to him, Sheriff?”

“I don’t know.”

“Surely you must have an idea. You have been with the child and her mother for nearly a week now. I must know, Sheriff.”

“Where are Joanna and Autumn?”

“They are both fine at the moment. What did the child do to Blessed?”

“Who are you, Whistler’s father?” Ethan had the mad desire to laugh.

The old man didn’t say anything, continued to look at him, as if he was trying to figure something out.

Ethan said, “Who are you?”

“I, Sheriff Merriweather? Why, I am the Father, but I am not, however, related to Whistler. This is my home, and all those who reside here, for however long a time, are my children. They obey my wishes and in return are enlightened about powers beyond themselves.”

“So Caldicot doesn’t run things around here?”

“I’ll tell you what, Sheriff. It seems we need each other, and so I will answer your questions and then you will have no reason not to answer mine. Caldicot does not run things here. Caldicot is my fine first lieutenant. He fancied the name Master, and so I gave it to him. Sometimes, when he doesn’t realize I’m looking, he struts like he is the important one here, but he is not. I allow him his little conceits since he is something of a financial wizard, a blessing, since I find such things boring. He gathers our people from all over the world, and if he deems them worthy, he brings them here.”

He raised a gnarled hand, pointed a thin finger at Ethan. His fingernails were long and curved inward. His old voice quaked with anger. “I have answered your questions, Sheriff. Now you will tell me what Autumn did to Blessed. I must know.”

“I have told you, I don’t know what she did. As far as I know, she only looked at him, that was it.”

“I don’t believe you. All of this—the death of Kjell, my poor Grace shot by your hand, my wife calling me, desperate because they were taking her to jail, and it’s all your fault, Sheriff. But Blessed, we cannot do without Blessed!”

Ethan said slowly, “Well, if this doesn’t beat all—you must be Theodore Backman.”

The old man gave him a regal nod. “Of course. Autumn is my granddaughter. I have lost two of my three sons, Sheriff. I will not lose my granddaughter as well. She appears to have more power than Blessed, even at her young age. She belongs to me, to my family, to Twilight. Her gift will draw the devout from all over the world. She will be revered. Under my tutelage who knows what she will become, the power she will have.”

Ethan said, “Your wife said you died in a mugging in Reno some time ago. So, it didn’t happen. It was all a fiction so you would be free to set up this cult. It occurs to me you could have done this without dying.”

“I had no choice. I had to die. The gangsters who ran the casinos decided they didn’t want to lose any more money to me, that I was stealing from them, though I played by their rules. The mugger was an assassin they sent to kill me, but I killed him instead. I was forced to cut all ties to Bricker’s Bowl because of those vermin.”

The old man sighed.

Ethan said, “So that’s when you decided to open this place? Children of Twilight? I’m wondering, Mr. Backman, why all the white? And the robes—you wish to be seen as a prophet? Or perhaps as something more than that?”

“You speak so very simply, Sheriff, so unequivocally. You don’t know anything about it. All of this, it was a huge undertaking. I was not a young man, even then.”

“And Caldicot? What does he get from this?”

Theodore shrugged. “Shepherd and I found Caldicot one day in a strip mall in Huntersville, an out-of-the-way place we chose because we had to be careful. Caldicot was selling cars, can you believe that? He tried to con us. I admired his abilities, and we talked.

“Two months later we bought the old tobacco farm some twenty miles down the road, using his mother’s name. It served for a while, but I feared the assassins would find me. We decided to build my beautiful temple. As you know, money is never an issue in any decision I make.

“You know that my family is extraordinary. You’ve seen what Grace and Blessed can do.” Theodore’s face spasmed and his breathing hitched. He began to breathe too fast. He nearly rose out of his chair as he shouted at Ethan, “My poor Grace, my poor Shepherd! What have you done to my family?” Theodore’s thin chest heaved. For a moment, Ethan thought he was ill.

After a moment, the old man settled himself back onto his throne. “Caldicot already believed he could read some people’s minds on occasion. When he saw Blessed and Grace he was, of course, astounded. He is an ambitious man, and I convinced him he could achieve whatever he wanted if he joined with me.

“And so he did. Whistler is a Harvard man. He brings us us fervent, eager people, thrilled that I will teach them.”

“Caldicot said you haven’t found another gifted person as yet.”

“No, not as yet, but tomorrow Caldicot is leaving for Denver to see a gentleman who professes to foresee the future. We will see.”

Ethan said, “So tell me again why people come to this big white concrete vault?”

Theodore waved a veiny old hand. “Enough! Look around you, Sheriff. My sanctuary is magnificent. My holdings are large here, and my children can explore the woods with me as much as they wish. Why would they not wish to stay?”

Ethan looked around the large, completely white room, the beautiful Impressionist paintings on the wall. Was that a Monet? There was a beautiful antique Persian carpet under the old man’s sandaled feet.

It was a gem, this room, save for a ridiculous dais with its golden throne at the center. “You build underground to hide from the Mafia?”

Theodore said, “In part. I feared I would not be so lucky twice. There were other reasons. When you are nearly beaten to death for being who you are, Sheriff, you think about what that means. I left the business of gathering earthly wealth to my sons, and I was free to read and to contemplate, to think about the gifts we Backmans have been given, and the history of others like us. I came to believe my nearly being beaten to death had a purpose—indeed, that I have a purpose, a mission, to find others like us and to build our own community away from our murderers, a community of the elect.”

“ ‘A community of the elect’?” Ethan raised a brow. “I don’t see that Caldicot has any extraordinary powers. And all these people here, are they being taught something, or are they being used? You have gathered so much money and power by putting your sons to use that you can convince these people to do just about anything, at least for a while. How long do people stay here, Mr. Backman? How long before they realize there is nothing here for them?”

“Are you quite done, Sheriff? I don’t care for your sarcasm. This is where I choose to be. I’m safe here, and I come and go as I please. That old barn is set a good half-mile from the county road, a road that few drive.”

“If everyone here is free to leave, then why did Autumn see your family burying people in the family cemetery?”

The old man’s eyes held a momentary look of regret, and then he let it go. “Two of our visitors—not worthy of us, a rare mistake by Caldicot—threatened to expose us unless we paid them. It was a grave decision, not arrived at easily, but they were not as important as Twilight. I had to protect our secrecy, no matter what. Kjell had to remove them, unfortunately. It has been a difficult time for me, Sheriff.”

“And just how did Grace and Blessed find Autumn?”

“Ah, that was a simple matter for Caldicot. He is a clever man. He knew Joanna lived in Boston. All he had to do was look up my poor Martin’s obituary, and there was her maiden name. With that and what she and Autumn had told us, it required only a few well-placed phone calls to search out her family and friends, and her connection to Titusville, Virginia.

“Now, Sheriff, I have answered your questions. I have an offer for you. You will leave here alive and the woman with you if she wishes, if you convince Autumn to remain with her family. She will not suffer; she will come to be happy here, I promise you. She will be with her family, and I always protect what is mine.”