Ritual. Part 29

'Well, we can Mirandize you all in good time, sir,' Sergeant Dupree told him, holding his sungla.s.ses up to the light to check that they were perfectly polished. 'Right now we'd like to invite you along for a little ride.'

Robyn put in, 'We don't have to go anywhere, not unless you arrest us properly and read us our rights.'

Sergeant Dupree turned and stared at her in exaggerated amus.e.m.e.nt. 'Well, now, I always was partial to an outspoken lady.' He walked up to Robyn with his thumbs in his belt and grinned at her. 'You're perfectly correct, my dear lady, you're not obliged to come along for this ride, not in the eyes of the law. I can't coerce you. It'd be different, of course, if you were to volunteer.'

'You're crazy,' said Robyn. 'I'm not going to volunteer.'

'But supposing your boyfriend here was to happen to meet with some unfortunate accident?'

'Are you threatening us?' Robyn demanded.

'Sure I'm threatening you. This isn't New England, this is south-western Louisiana, and here we have a way of doing things different. Totally according to the letter of the law, mind you, but different. You could say we were more community-conscious, if you like. More neighbourly. And there's some neighbours of ours who'd like to have a little talk with you, about this and that.'

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Charlie said coldly, 'I suppose you mean the Celestines?'

Sergeant Dupree looked back at Charlie over his shoulder and gave him a toothy grin. 'That's right first time, sir. Right first time. Give the man a porce-a-lain rabbit.'

Robyn said, 'Charlie?'

Charlie let out a long breath. 'I don't think that we have very much of a choice, do you?'

Sergeant Dupree laughed, and slapped Robyn cheerily on the shoulder. 'Right again, sir. Right again.'

Covered all the way by pump-guns, they were led to one of the three police cars that had been parked beside the bridge. Sergeant Dupree opened the rear door for them, and they climbed in. The car was unbearably hot inside, and smelled of McDonald's hamburgers. Sergeant Dupree climbed into the pa.s.senger seat and took off his hat. 'We'll have that air conditioning blowing in a while, folks, then you'll feel more comfortable. I have to say that you're both in a sorry state, aren't you?'

'Miss Harris' shoulder needs attention,' said Charlie. 'She's been given a serious cut.'

'Well, I'm sure your friends at L'Eglise des Pauvres can help you out there,' Sergeant Dupree said. 'They've got all the facilities for dealing with cuts to the human body that anybody could wish for.'

They drove at nearly sixty miles an hour along a narrow, dusty highway, in between fields that were the colour of red roof tiles. The air conditioning was set to Hi, and after a few minutes the interior of the car was freezing. Sergeant Dupree took out a pack of grape-flavoured chewing gum and offered it around. 'You surely caused us a whole lot of trouble, I've got to tell you,' he repeated, folding a purple stick of gum between his front teeth.

'Is the church far?' asked Charlie.

'Three miles, that's all. The town of Acadia is just over to your left there, you can see the spire of the Baptist church 310.

once we pa.s.s these cypress trees up ahead here. Then L'figlise des Pauvres is about three-quarters of a mile further on. It used to be a farm, years ago, before the Celestines took it over. Scarman's Farm. Lots of people hereabouts still call it Scar-man's Farm. We Police Sergeant Dupree however, have to be accurate in our terminology.'

They drove for a little while without talking. Then Charlie said, 'Can I ask you what you think about the Celestines? I mean, you personally?'

Sergeant Dupree barked with laughter. 'Me personally? I think they're fruitcakes.'

'But it doesn't concern you, what they're doing?'

'Sir, they aren't, breaking no laws. I may disapprove of them, morally or whatever, but just like I said we do things here by the letter of the law, and if they want to eat themselves for lunch, that's up to them.'

'Besides which, they keep you paid off?' Charlie added.

'Now, that's where you're wrong? Sergeant Dupree told him, without taking offence at Charlie's allegation that he was taking bribes. 'The Celestines themselves don't pay n.o.body nothing. Not a cent. But let me put it this way: there are plenty of influential people in this state who have friends and family connected with the Celestines, and it wouldn't be wise of me to encourage career problems, would it? It's all a question of politics. Apart from which, those Celestines have official approval from some very high places indeed.'

After about ten minutes, they skirted a wide cornfield, and then turned off to the right along a rutted, uneven track. At the end of the track, there was a metal gate, and a high fence wound around with razor-wire. A man in a plaid shirt and a stetson hat stood by the gate holding a rifle. When he saw the police car approaching, he swung the gate wide and allowed it to enter, although he approached it with his rifle held ready and peered into the windows. 'Looks like you had some good hunting there, Ron,' he remarked.

3".

Sergeant Dupree chewed his gum noisily. 'Where's the big chief?'

'Main building, I guess. You'll have to go round the back way, there's a couple of buses blocking up the front.'

'Hasta la vista,' said Sergeant Dupree and pointed forward like an orchestral conductor, to indicate to their driver that they should move on.

L'figlise des Pauvres still clearly showed its origins of Scar-man's Farm. They drove around a cl.u.s.ter of outbuildings and barns and pig-pens and silos: although there were no animals here any longer, and no feed, and no manure. All the buildings had been immaculately whitewashed, and were presumably being used as offices and dormitories. The main building was a converted barn, with an arched roof, its northern side shaded by an enormous and ancient oak. On the apex of its roof, a high gold cross caught the sunshine, almost as if it were alight.

They parked close to the oak, and climbed out. Sergeant Dupree didn't bother to cover Charlie and Robyn with his gun, now that they had safely arrived. 'Come along,' he said, and beckoned them to follow him up the wooden steps and into the double doors of the main building. Charlie glanced at Robyn, but at that moment she wasn't looking at him. He hoped to G.o.d that she didn't think he had let her down.

Inside, the main building had been divided up into corridors and separate rooms. It was very silent and cool in there. All the walls were painted white, and the only decoration was a painting of St Celestine contemplating the Cross. There was a smell of subtropical mustiness and rose-scented room spray, and something else, like herbs and formaldehyde all mingled together.

Sergeant Dupree led the way along the central corridor until they reached a pair of swing doors. He pushed them open, and ushered Charlie and Robyn into a high, white-painted room, illuminated by clerestory windows. There were rows of trestle tables on the floor of the room, nine or ten of 312.

them, each laid with a bright, white linen tablecloth, and decorated with fresh flowers. A small group of people were standing at the side, talking in cheerful, animated voices. Charlie instantly recognized both M. and Mme Musette. At the far end of the room, the floor had been raised into a low platform, and on this platform stood a huge altar, draped in yellow and white, the colours of the Papacy. Behind the altar rose a polished bra.s.s crucifix, at least twenty feet high, with an elegant and sad-faced Christ nailed on to it with shining chrome-plated nails, and crowned with chrome-plated thorns.

Sergeant Dupree led Charlie and Robyn over towards the Musettes. M. Musette was wearing a white ca.s.sock and a white cape around his shoulders. A gold crucifix shone on his chest. Mme Musette was dressed in a very white silk sheath that reached to her calves, so tight and clinging that Charlie could clearly see the outline of her nipples and even the depression of her navel. Her hands were concealed in elbow-length while silk gloves.

'Well, well, Mr McLean,' said M. Musette, extending his hand. 'You have decided to join us at last. And Ms Harris, too! Welcome to L'Eglise des Pauvres. You couldn't have chosen a better time.'

Charlie ignored M. Musette's hand. 'Forget the welcome, monsieur. All I'm going to do is repeat what I said before. I want my son, and then I want to leave.'

Sergeant Dupree chuckled. 'This gentleman's an optimist, you have to give him that.'

'Thank you, sergeant,' said Mme Musette smoothly. 'You've done an excellent job.'

'You can't hold us here,' Robyn protested.

'Of course not,' said M. Musette. 'But while young Martin McLean remains alive and whole, I'm sure that his devoted father is not going to abandon him. Any more than you my dear, are going to abandon his devoted father.'

'I want to see him,' Charlie insisted.

*awr-^y ajj meanS)' agreed M. ,- He looked at his eighteen-carat Ebel wn'st.w.a.tch. 'At the moment, he is at devotions. But he should be here shortly. Perhaps you would like me to show you around?'

Robyn said, 'This is quite illegal and quite ridiculous.' M. Musette smiled distantly. 'It depends on your definition of both words, my dear. Sergeant Dupree will a.s.sure you that nothing is being done here which contravenes either state or federal law. And as for it being ridiculous .. . well, even our Lord was ridiculed. Look at him there, with his crown of thorns.'

Robyn snapped, 'Officer - I insist you arrest this man for kidnap.'

Sergeant Dupree shook his head. 'I can't do that, miss. I don't have any grounds.'

'Then arrest me, on the charges you mentioned before.' 'I may,' Sergeant Dupree told her. 'But not just yet.' 'It's all right, Sergeant Dupree,' said M. Musette. 'You just leave these good people to us. We'll take care of them.'

'Sir - I'm sure you will,' Sergeant Dupree replied. He raised his hat to Mme Musette, and then to Robyn, and walked unhurriedly out of the hall, closing the double doors behind him. i 'Now what?' said Charlie. ' M. Musette raised a hand. 'There's no need to be impatient, Mr McLean. Nor is there any cause to be angry. First of all, you look as if you could use a shower and a change of clothes. Perhaps I can lend you one of my suits; and I'm sure that Ms Harris here is just as slender as my dear wife.' 'I want my son,' Charlie repeated doggedly. 'All in good time,' M. Musette a.s.sured him. It was then that a wheelchair was pushed into the hall by a man with a blue medic's shirt and close-cropped hair. The wheelchair was crammed with white pillows, to support the creature who was sitting in it. The man with the close-cropped hair wheeled it across the hall, and parked it right beside M. Musette. 'You said you wanted to see her before she cuts off her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.'

'That's right,' said M. Musette. 'I wanted to give her a last word of praise and prayer.' He knelt down beside the wheel-chair, resting his elbow on the arm of it, and looked warmly into the eyes of his Devotee. Charlie could feel Robyn's hand searching for his. He held it, and she clutched him tight with absolute horror.

The creature propped up in the wheelchair had no legs and one arm. She was wearing nothing but a yellow sleeveless T-shirt, which had been knotted together underneath her pelvis to conceal the stumps of her legs. The stump of her left arm was still wrapped in surgical dressings. It was her face, however, which was the most disfigured. She had cut off most of the fleshy part of her nose, leaving a red-raw cavity, and she had sliced ribbons of flesh off her chin and her cheeks. Her carefully back-combed ash-blonde hair made her disfigurement seem all the more grotesque.

M. Musette held her one remaining hand, and squeezed it. The creature turned her eyes on him, and gave him a mutilated smile. 'The Lord is near,' she whispered. 'I can feel it.'

M. Musette said, 'Yes, Velma, my dear. The Lord is near.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Charlie and Robyn were taken away from the main building to one of the accommodation blocks, which looked as if it had once been a creamery. They were led to separate rooms, both bare except for a single bed and a plain pine locker, and a picture of St Celestine. They were allowed to shower; and when they came out, they found that their old clothes had been removed, and new clothes laid out in their place. Charlie had been given a light grey suit with unfashionable bell-bottomed trousers, while Robyn had been given a blue print cotton frock with puffy sleeves and a very deeply scooped front.

All the time, the man with the close-cropped hair stood guard outside Charlie's door; and a matronly-looking woman waited outside Robyn's door. They were not technically prisoners, but Charlie was quite sure what the reaction would be if they attempted to escape.

They were brought back to the main building and told to wait. M. Musette was welcoming the delegation from Reno, Nevada. Mme Musette was meditating. They sat at the end of one of the trestle tables, supervised from twenty feet away by the man with the close-cropped hair, who stood with his arms folded, completely expressionless, and stared at the opposite wall.

Charlie looked around. 'They must be holding the Last Supper in here.'

'Just so long as they don't expect me to attend,' said Robyn. 'That woman, Velma - I can't believe that anybody could do that to themselves.'

'Religious ecstasy,' said Charlie. 'Think of Jonestown, that 316.

was worse in a way. I guess there's a self-destructive element in all of us.'

'But she smiled .. .'

Charlie closed his eyes. He didn't like to think about Velma. He could still remember too vividly the way she had appeared when he had first seen her at the Windsor Hotel. A little blowsy, maybe, but strongly attractive; a woman with looks. It was almost impossible to believe that the maimed and mutilated creature in the wheelchair was actually her, the same woman. Only the eyes gave her away. They were Velma's eyes. The eyes, and the ash-blonde hair.

Robyn held Charlie's hand. 'Supposing it actually happens,' she said.

'Supposing what actually happens?'

'Supposing they eat all these twelve Devotees and supposing He does come back -Jesus.'

'Are you kidding? Do you think that Jesus - even if you believed in Jesus - would seriously consider returning to earth for a bunch of crazies like the Celestines?'

'Do you believe in Him?' asked Robyn seriously.

Charlie lowered his eyes, but wouldn't look at her. 'Right at the moment, I'm not so sure.'

'Because of Velma?'

'I guess Velma's part of it. But mostly it's because I can't see Jesus condoning anything like this. I mean, whatever name you want to put on it, it's barbaric. It's like voodoo.'

Robyn said, 'I went to Haiti once. My friend's father used to have a sugar plantation just outside of Port-au-Prince. She was always talking about voodoo. That was when Baby Doc was still in power, and they still had the Tonton Macoute. She took me down to the servant's quarters, and showed me a bone that her father's maid used to use for putting evil spells on people. It was a baby's finger bone. It gave me the shivers. She said if you pointed this bone at somebody you didn't like, Baron Samedi would come and tear them to pieces.'

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'Baron Samedi?' said Charlie, lifting his head.

'That's right. He's the great voodoo demon. The king of all the zombies.'

'Eric mentioned Baron Samedi.'

'Well, I expect he would. He probably thought that Baron Samedi was coming to get him. I mean he probably believed it.'

'Samedi means Sat.u.r.day, right?' asked Charlie.

'What of it?'

'I don't know. Something clicked. Maybe it's just circ.u.mstantial. But in the Celestine Bible, when they're talking about the Last Supper, they say something like "You should know by these secrets that he was vanquished on the fifth day, but the sixth day is his day, and on that day you're going to get your just reward."'

'Well?' said Robyn.

'Well, don't ask me,' said Charlie. 'But "his" was written with a small "h", as if they weren't referring to Jesus, but to somebody else. "He was vanquished on the fifth day". Who was? Not Jesus. Jesus triumphed on the fifth day. He was crucified and he died and just by dying he redeemed the sins of the world, and conquered evil. So who was vanquished?'

Robyn whispered, 'The Devil.'

'That's right, evil was vanquished. But what does the Celestine Bible say? The sixth day is his day. And the sixth day is Sat.u.r.day. Samedi. And on that day you're going to get your just reward.'

'Charlie,' said Robyn. 'What exactly are you trying to tell me?'

'I don't know. Maybe I'm going crazy. I am going crazy. But supposing when those Celestines lived on that Caribbean island with those cannibals all those years ago - supposing their religions became totally tangled up, voodoo and Roman Catholicism, so that you couldn't tell one from the other? The Caribs worshipped Baron Samedi, right? So what if Baron Samedi got himself all mixed together with Jesus Christ? Supposing what they're actually doing here isn't arranging for the second coming of Jesus - but the second coming of Baron Samedi? "The sixth day is his day," right? For G.o.d's sake -supposing they've gotten it all wrong?'

Robyn squeezed his hand. 'If you don't believe in Jesus Christ, you're not going to start believing in the Devil... Or are you? Come on, Charlie, it's not going to happen. It's all fantasy. There won't be any second coming of Jesus Christ and there won't be any reincarnation of Baron Samedi.'

Charlie sat back, and tried to smile at her. 'What do you think of the suit?' he asked.

'Terrible,' she said. 'You look like one of the Monkees.'

'Something really bad is going to happen here tomorrow,' Charlie told her. 'Can't you feel it? I don't believe in the supernatural, but can't you feel the atmosphere in here?'

'I don't know,' said Robyn. She stared at him sadly. 'What are you going to do about Martin?' she asked. 'Do you think you're going to be able to get him free?'

Charlie said, 'I'm going to have to talk to him first. It's possible that he's changed his mind about cutting himself up. If he has, we're going to have a pretty good chance of getting out of here. If he hasn't ... well, I'm going to have to work that out as I go along.'

The doors opened and M. Musette appeared, accompanied by Mme Musette. 'Well, Mr McLean,' he smiled, rubbing his hands together so that they made a dry, chafing noise. 'How would you like a tour of inspection?'

'Can I see Martin?'

'My dear sir, of course you can. You are only too welcome. I will take you to meet all of the twelve Devotees who will be part of the second coming. Your son, naturellement, is the twelfth. Perhaps you will meet some other faces that you know.'

Mme Musette said, 'We were talking about you, Mr 319.