Rise of the Beast (47 page)

“I didn’t see any need,” said Leland. “We didn’t even know if the boys we saw were the same ones that got killed.”

“Was Julio one of the kids you saw in the park?” asked Strom.

“I’m not sure,” admitted Krissie. “It was pretty dark, and I’ll admit to you right here and now that I was pretty scared.”

“I can understand that,” confirmed Strom.

“I’m not sure either,” admitted Leland, “but I don’t think so. I think I would have recognized him.”

“And Lusan and Duras were with you every minute from the time that the boys ran off until you saw the lights of the police cars in Central Park?” asked Strom.

“Oh yes,” confirmed Leland.

“We were up talking late into the night,” interjected Krissie. “They ended up crashing in the guest bedroom till morning. Like my husband said, the rest is history.”

“We’d considered the possibility that the kids we met in the park might have been the ones who were murdered, but there were four of them, not three,” said Leland.

“I sure wish you’d come to us earlier with this information,” said Detective Strom. “Still, I understand your reluctance, really. This can be a crazy place at
times.” Strom paused. “If there is anything else that comes to you, please feel free to call me directly.” He handed Leland his card.

“We will,” confirmed Leland, seeing his visitors to the door.

A minute later, both Leland and Krissie breathed a sigh of relief. They headed back into the living room.

“I didn’t feel right lying to them like that,” said Leland.

“We had to,” objected Krissie. “What if it got out that it was Lusan who killed those thugs? Yes, he did it to protect us, but it would have made a real mess for his ministry. I, for one, had no problems with what we just did.”

“We’ll need to let Lusan know what just happened,” said Leland.

“I’ll make the call right now,” assured Krissie. “Don’t worry. I think this is the last we’ll hear from those police officers. This cover story was perfect.”

As Krissie headed into the bedroom to use the phone, Leland sat in his comfy chair. “What a day,” he sighed, gazing out at the park. First there was the visit of Serena Davis, followed by what had apparently happened between her and security. Now the incident in the park had surfaced once more. It was a mess, and unlike Krissie, he didn’t think this issue was over, no, not by a long shot. He felt for the flash drive in his pocket. He would be using his computer to examine its other documents tonight. For the first time in two and a half years, he was seriously questioning his loyalty to this new messiah.

Detective Strom and Lieutenant Stoddard stepped from the door of Leland’s condo and into the frigid night air. A light snow was still falling, making the snowy park across the street look like a winter wonderland.

“What do you think about their story, Lieutenant?” asked Detective Strom.

Lieutenant Stoddard pulled his heavy coat around him. “It makes a whole lot more sense than that crazy tale you got from Julio this morning.”

“But that alone doesn’t make it true,” noted Strom.

“No it doesn’t,” confirmed Stoddard. “Still, it looks to me like we’re back to square number one.”

“I don’t think so,” replied Strom. “They emerged from the park several minutes after Julio ran across Central Park West. That means that they were still in the park when the triple homicide occurred. They know more than they’re telling.”

“Maybe,” replied Stoddard, “but I don’t think you’re going to get anything more out of them.”

“Probably not,” said Strom, “but they told me enough. They’ve pointed me in the right direction, perhaps without realizing it.”

“Toward Lusan,” deduced Stoddard.

“Right,” confirmed Strom. “And there’s something else. I’ve spent a lot of time examining video footage from all sides of the park. If the two people in black exiting the park with Leland and Krissie James are Lusan and Duras, when did they enter? At this point I can account for every figure that entered Central Park from eight in the evening on, except for these two jokers. I only have an image of them leaving.”

Stoddard laughed. “Bill, I think you need to get out more often, find a hobby at least.”

“Phil, this has been my hobby for the last two and a half years,” admitted Detective Strom. “Call me compulsive or obsessive if you wish, but I’m not going to let this case go unsolved. It’s become sort of personal to me. I will find out who killed those kids. I will get to the bottom of it. I will bring the perpetrator or perpetrators to justice.”

“Tall order,” noted Stoddard.

“True enough,” confirmed Strom. “If Julio and the others are right, I’m facing off against the Devil himself. If I bring him to justice, I’ve just about got the world’s problems solved.”

It was 11 days later that Chris and Serena pulled out of New York City on their way to Memphis and their next revival meeting. For the moment, much to their disappointment, Julio and Karina would have to remain behind. There just wasn’t enough room for them. Perhaps they would get together in the spring when they would be holding revivals in the northeast again.

Before they had left, Detective Strom had shared his findings with them regarding his interview with Leland and Krissie. This was something he rarely did during an ongoing investigation. The results had hit Julio and Karina pretty hard. They’d held out some hope that they might have Lusan on the run, but it wasn’t to be. Still, the detective vowed to continue the investigation, keeping Julio in the loop.

Serena still wasn’t sure if Strom totally believed their story. But maybe he would succeed where so many others had failed, checking Satan’s progress here on Earth. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see Satan himself tried in a human court before a human jury? It was a nice dream, but for the moment, that was all that it was—a dream. Until then, she would combat the Prince of Lies in the only way she knew how, by winning hearts and minds for Jesus one soul at a time.

C
HAPTER
19

Fifty-three-year-old physicist Dr. Les Geiger and his research team watched carefully as the enormous, shimmering ring was set into its yoke shaped base by the crane. It was a milestone in the development of this device. It was a matter teleporter capable of moving objects great distances through space. Yet unlike the more classical teleporter model, this one didn’t disassemble an object atom by atom, convert it to energy, and then reassemble it somewhere else. No, this one created a tunnel through space and time—a wormhole that matter could pass through in one piece. The whole concept seemed like science fiction, and they had accomplished so much so fast.

Here on the Island of Katafanga, hardly more than a dot on the globe, they would accomplish two miracles almost simultaneously. Over in building three, another group of scientists and engineers were already testing the first economically feasible fusion reactor. Its design was like nothing any of them had ever seen. Never had anyone attempted to create a sustained nuclear fusion reaction this way. It transformed thermal and nuclear energy directly to electricity. At yesterday’s trial they had cranked it up to over two million volts at a staggering 12 billion amps, and they claimed that was at just 20 percent capacity.

Les nodded approvingly as the 11-ton ring was guided into the base. It’s electrical and control plugs snapped perfectly into place. Since college he had dreamed of such a device as this. It was he who had developed the theoretical model that proposed that just such a thing was possible. It had been his doctoral
thesis back in 1991. His theory hadn’t sat well at all with the review committee. It flew directly in the face of what was then the accepted model of the space-time continuum. In the end, he was granted his doctorate, but it was a hard sell. He’d ended up teaching undergraduate physics at a small four-year college in Wisconsin, but his dreams of quantum teleportation, as he called it, had never died. For the past 25 years he had refined his theory and written scientific papers about it. He felt at least partially vindicated to see scientific opinion slowly turning in his direction.

Then two years ago, he was approached to work on this project. Indeed, he would be the deputy director in charge of a dozen other engineers and researchers and over 30 technical staff. It had been just too good to pass up. He hadn’t been off this island in all of that time. Then again, he didn’t want to leave; this place had everything. His quarters were like a luxury resort suite with first-class service. He wanted for nothing. This place had some of the finest beaches he had ever seen, not that he took advantage of them very often. He worked an average of 60 to 70 hours a week, and he loved it. The amount of money needed for equipment was no object. He got anything and everything he asked for.

He had never in his wildest dreams envisioned seeing his theory actually demonstrated in his own lifetime, but if all went well, they would begin teleportation trials in less than two weeks. Right now it depended on the state of the fusion generator, and it was scheduled to be tested at full power sometime next week. That would pave the way for their research.

He thought of his wife, Ruth. He shook his head sadly. He thought of all of those years, through the bad times, when she had been the only one who believed in him, encouraged him. If only she had lived long enough to see this day.

The day after tomorrow they would be installing the second ring on the far side of the island. That would be their first teleportation destination.

Still, in many ways, this island was almost surreal. It was also the home of hundreds of what Les might have best described as cultists. The same Lusan who was bankrolling this scientific project had created his own religion, and the other side of the island was a sort of boot camp for the converts. The scientists and engineers didn’t mix too much with them. Actually, they were instructed not to. It would impair their concentration or something like that. There was even an eight-foot fence between the two compounds. It wasn’t electrified or topped by barbed wire, but it was a reminder that there was a separation between the
classes. Indeed, Les had never even seen the inside of their compound. From some of the things he’d heard, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.