Alex’s emotions about Calvin were in turmoil, vacillating between fury, incredulity, and even pity. Listening to him speak at length, he’d once or twice wondered just how honestly Calvin was leveling with him, and whether he might have some altogether different agenda; but he’d sat and listened, to what he’d said, what he didn’t say, and how he’d said it—preferring to venture fewer questions and expose less of his own mind. He wanted the liberty to reflect on all of this, and to look into it under his own aegis. But the one thing he knew was that he’d heard more than enough from Calvin in thirty-five minutes to make him ill. A truth was brought home to Alex that he’d considered many times, but never in so personal a way: there were people in the world who had just enough religion to hate, but not enough religion to love. In something very near despair, he realized he would do well to recover Lucy in one piece at any cost, and then to get out.

19

HE SPENT THE FLIGHT LOST IN THOUGHT OVER THE IMPLICATIONS OF THESE people’s obsession with Dee and the so-called angel books; could this be connected to his brother’s fatal accident? The coroner’s verdict had come down a month ago, corroborating accidental death; but Alex now had fresh suspicions. He’d have to save those ideas for another day, however; they opened up too many wounds now, and his immediate concern had to be to reach Lucy. This man Guy, the Templar relation, was disarmingly mild-mannered on the phone, but his methods would surely be unstable if put to the test, and he took Calvin’s assurances as to their ultimate reservations to perpetrate real harm with a pinch of salt. He felt Lucy’s life hung in the balance, and if he didn’t get to her quickly, she would have a second—and potentially greater—disaster to deal with in the form of missed medication. The police had discovered her small purse along with the phone where she was taken. She would have none of her antirejection drugs with her, and Alex had to reach her with his own supply.