"Don't let Tim stay up too late," said Janet, as the detective helped her put on her topcoat. "I probably won't be home till after his bedtime."

  "Have a good time," said Leo, waving them out the door. "Tim will be fine with me. Enjoy your evening."

  28

  Chuckling, the man who considered himself Arelim shut off his television. "The police expect a break in the case momentarily," he said in a high-pitched voice, mimicking the female newscaster. "Stay tuned for further details." The futile efforts of the police amused him. They labored in vain, hampered by their beliefs in rational explanations. The possibility that a supernatural entity might be committing the murders never once entered their minds. The occult baffled them and because of that, they ignored it. Instead, they concentrated on purely physical solutions.

  Meanwhile, the newspapers shared the same prejudice. The media blamed a major rift between the Columbian and Bolivian drug cartels. It made good copy and tied in with recent events in South America.

  As of yet, no one offered an explanation of the Hebrew symbols scrawled in the victim's blood, but Arelim expected some incredible theory would surface sooner or later. He loved it all.

  The Dark Man fed on the death energies of his victims. Through use of sympathetic magic, he devoured that force from their vital fluids. The mystic symbols the Dark Man drew served as a visual conduit in the ceremony.

  However, there was no reason for him to dismember his prey. That tactic came directly from Arelim. He knew the ghoulish bent of the press. The more grisly the crime, the more news it generated. He wanted as much publicity as he could get. The butchery assured him of that.

  By now, even the most illiterate crack head knew the dangers of dealing with the Children of Danballah. The organization tottered on the brink of ruin. Tonight he would finish them for good. His plans progressed smoothly. Only a few minor annoyances stood in his way.

  "Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin," he recited as he sat down behind his desk. When he looked up, the Dark Man stood where there had been nothing. The giant in black nodded a greeting to the sorcerer; not as a servant to his master, but as his equal. Knowing the nature of his creation, Arelim expected no less.

  "You let four escape last night?" he asked.

  "As you commanded," said the Dark Man. "One girl eluded me on her own. The others I pretended to miss in the confusion. I made sure all of them caught a good glimpse of me. None of them will ever forget what took place. Nearly fifty of their friends fed my hunger."

  "All of the crack came from the Children?"

  "Of course. I searched the streets until I found a few fearless hustlers still peddling their wares. In the privacy of an abandoned warehouse, they proved most cooperative in revealing the locations of several nearby crack houses."

  "You killed them anyway?"

  "What else did you expect? In the end they begged me for that release. I spent several hours amusing myself." The Dark Man laughed. "It made up for the boredom of the afternoon."

  "Play all the games you want," said Arelim, chuckling. "Nothing can save the Children of Danballah. Your killings have broken their grip on the drug market in this city."

  "Perhaps," said the Dark Man, catching the sorcerer off guard with his remark. It was the first time the giant had ever expressed an opposing view. "But I think not."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Remember Lisa Ray? She was the first one to elude me."

  "Yes, yes," said Arelim, impatiently. "The girl who worked making crack. What of her?"

  "She's back at work, running a crack factory for the Black Guardians street gang. It only took a couple of days until the shock wore off. My threat obviously didn't stop her. Her ambition far outweighed her fears.

  "Despite all of the murders, most of these dealers continue to sell their drugs. They are too stupid to recognize their peril. They coexist with death already. I merely represent another obstacle in their path to riches. Nothing you or I do will rid the streets of such people."

  "So I realize," answered Arelim, somewhat testily. He disliked being contradicted. "You know my plans down to the last detail. My immediate goal is to merely destroy the main organization. Unchecked and uncontrolled by Royce, the small gangs throughout the city will soon be at each other's throats. Then we shall witness wholesale slaughter that will dwarf your solitary efforts. It is all so predictable that it almost bores me."

  "Boredom leads to mistakes."

  "I never make mistakes," said Arelim angrily. "You know what I expect from you?"

  "It all comes together this night," said the Dark Man. Reaching beneath his coat, he pulled out his butcher's cleaver. Casually, he waved the deadly tool back and forth through the air. "Royce is surrounded by a dozen armed bodyguards."

  "None of whom can stop you," said Arelim.

  "I know," said the giant, with a laugh. "But they'll try. Oh, yes, they'll try."

  "No mistakes this time," said Arelim, sternly. "I want no survivors to tell the tale. When the police finally arrive, I want them to find a Temple filled with death. In the meantime, I will make sure the news media learns of the carnage. A few TV and newspaper reporters at the scene should suffice."

  "You treat this all as a game," said the Dark Man, shaking his huge head in bewilderment. He sounded almost human. "Life and death mean nothing to you. All of these people serve only as pawns in your elaborate schemes."

  "The only life that matters to me is my own," said Arelim. "Everything else is secondary. I obey my own rules. And I crush anyone who stands in my way."

  "You crush them?" said the Dark Man, with a laugh.

  "With your help, of course," said Arelim hurriedly. By his very nature, the monster considered himself a totally independent entity. Arelim had no desire to inform him otherwise.

  "I want you to kill one other tonight as well," he continued, rushing on to another subject. "This private investigator, Sidney Taine, knows much too much about the Black Lodge. He even claims to belong to a similar Order on the West Coast. I cannot see him causing any major problems, but why should we take chances. He might prove troublesome later. Eliminate him."

  Yawning, the man who considered himself Arelim rose up out of his chair. "Remember my orders. Kill everyone in the Temple with Royce. I want no survivors. If any escape, track them down and kill them afterward. They all must die."

  Reaching down, he picked up a small framed photo of a young woman off his desk. "Taine promised to help her," he said smiling.

  Gently opening his hands, Arelim let the picture drop to the floor. With a loud crack, the glass shattered, sending bright little shards flying across the carpet.

  "No one interferes with my plans," he said, his face twisting with rage. "No one. Kill him. Kill him tonight."

  29

  They wined and dined in style. Taine had reserved a small private room at a very exclusive restaurant and they ate alone by candlelight. The food was superb, complemented with several fine bottles of wine. By the end of the meal, Janet was at peace with the world and very much enamored with her escort. Which made it all the harder to face him with her doubts.

  "Taine," she said cautiously, as they lingered over the last bites of dessert. "Is something the matter? You look worried." She laughed, trying to ease the tension. "The bill more than you expected?"

  He smiled as she hoped he would. "No. Even a poor detective can afford to go out to a place like this once or twice a year. Not that I could make a habit of it, but you deserve it. And so do I."

  "Was it something I said?" she asked, getting a little nervous. "Or something I did?"

  "No, no, no," said the detective raising his voice a fraction. "You're perfect. Beyond perfect if such a category exists. My worries have nothing to do with you. This case I'm working on is driving me crazy. I have a little more than twenty-four hours to come up with a miracle. And I don't see one materializing out of thin air."

  "Want to talk about it," she asked, secretly rejoicing. "Another person can often spot obvious things you miss." Impulsively, she reached across the table and squeezed one of his hands. "I want to help you. Please let me."

  "I can't see that it would do any harm," said Taine. "After all, in a way, the case concerns you as well.

  "Excuse me if I leave out a few names. I promised my client to keep her identity hidden, and my word is my bond. The same with a few of the other players in this complicated drama. Otherwise, here's everything I know."

  For the next half hour, Taine related the details of his search for the mysterious Arelim. Janet listened intently, trying to absorb everything he told her. Despite all of his assurances to the contrary, she felt sure the detective deliberately left out some important information. He glossed over a number of conversations. Still, a pattern emerged. A pattern that frightened Janet.

  "Today I wasted my time interviewing six other businessmen on Mrs. McConnell's list," concluded Taine. "I ran smack into a wall of silence. All of them denied any knowledge of the organization. They refused to budge an inch, even after I threatened to reveal their membership in the group to the FBI."

  "I still don't see the connection between the Lodge and Roger. You even said Royce never heard of my Roger. What reason does he have for kidnaping Tim?"

  "The connection exists," said Taine. "I'm convinced that the Black Lodge forms a link between your troubles and those of my client. I just can't make that final connection."

  "So Angel Caldwell is afraid of her father?" said Janet, thoughtfully. "I can't say I blame her. The old man always gave me the creeps when he visited Leo."

  "He sounds—" Taine stopped in the middle of the sentence. "How did you know Evangeline Caldwell is my client?"

  "You forget we circulate in the same circles. Angel and I are only a year apart in age. She hangs out with a fast crowd but I see her from time to time at important social functions."

  "Leo and Sangmeister?"

  "Years ago, they pooled their resources on several business deals. Harmon visited Brentwood several times. The old buzzard reminded me of an undertaker. I was always waiting for him to say 'Room for one more.'

  "Even in those days, everyone knew that Angel hated him. No one blamed her. He was a cold fish. Though her marriage to Victor Caldwell seemed like a step in the wrong direction."

  "They make an odd couple," said Taine.

  "Definitely. But their lifestyles mesh perfectly. As you probably know, Angel is anything but an angel."

  "I gathered as much," said Taine dryly.

  "What about this White Lodge? Do you think that Arelim belongs to this mysterious counterforce to the Order?"

  Taine shook his head. "Impossible. His tactics betray him. Good cannot use evil to fight evil. As I told Angel, magic has no orientation. It is neither black nor white. Only the user gives it character. A white magician using killing magic descends to the level of the Black Lodge. The secret of Arelim's identity lies with the Order he claims to oppose."

  "Claims?" she asked, quick to pick up on the remark.

  "The Black Lodge cannot be destroyed so easily. Caldwell made that quite clear. Murder a member and another takes his place.

  "The only way an outsider can wipe out a pyramid organization is to kill all of the members and potential members. Remember, the masters of the Lodge achieved their positions by climbing over the bodies of their predecessors. Even Arelim would find himself hard pressed to defeat them all. Nor do I think he plans such an undertaking."

  "You lost me."

  "These murders revolve around a power struggle in the Lodge. Willis Royce controls the lucrative drug trade for the Order. He has grown incredibly rich and powerful the last few years with the boom in the crack market. Enough so that another Master wants it all.

  "Using the Dark Man, he is smashing Royce's network which he will then replace with one of his own. He's breaking all of the laws of the Lodge, but only the Grand Master of the Lodge can settle disputes among the members. With Sangmeister ill, perhaps dying, Arelim must figure he can get away with anything. And he's right. If he defeats Royce, no one will dispute his claim to the drug trade. Only money and power matter to the members of the Black Lodge."

  Janet sat quiet for a moment, trying to frame her next question in the best of terms. "What I don't understand is why Victor talked so freely with you? He revealed a lot more about the Lodge than anyone else. Why didn't he clam up like the rest of the members?"

  "I asked the right questions," said Taine, slowly. "He hated Sangmeister and feared Arelim. When I mentioned both in the same conversation, it set him off. I was lucky."

  Luck, she suspected, had nothing to do with it. Taine spun an intricate web, but he was not telling her the entire story. He had said something important to Caldwell that he did not want her to know. Instantly, all of her fears came rushing back, stronger than before.

  "Royce trusted you, too," she said, feeling her way along. "How come? Why does everyone trust Sidney Taine?"

  Taine shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "I never thought about it much before. Maybe I just have the right kind of features. People naturally trust me."

  "Wait a minute," said Janet, starting to get annoyed. "You're evading the issue. I want a straight answer. The more you tell about this case, the more one thing becomes clear. The common element in all of these weird happenings is not Arelim or the Dark Man, but a character named Sidney Taine. This whole mystery revolves around you. A man, who I have come to realize, I know nothing about."

  An odd look passed across Taine's face. "I'm basically a loner. Detectives are like that. I never talk about myself."

  Janet shook her head. "You're trying to treat me like a child, Taine. I'm not that dumb. Things just don't add up."

  She paused, gathering in a deep breath. "You're too well informed about things. I remember when I met you in your office the other day. You never had a chance to scan that article on the Knights of Antioch. Yet, you knew all about them. In fact, you kept on calling them the Black Lodge. That's what confused me for a few minutes. The author of the book never referred to them as that. Only you knew that name and the history behind it."

  Taine didn't say a word, so she continued. "I can sense you're hiding things from me. How is Roger connected with the Black Lodge? Who is behind these killings? What is going to take place tomorrow night? There are too many questions and not enough answers."

  The detective shook his head regretfully. "You want to know things I can't tell you, Janet. I'm a private investigator. No matter how much I care for you, I can't violate my client's trust."

  "Don't give me that line," said Janet, bitterly. "I wasn't born yesterday. We aren't in court. You can tell me anything you want. But you won't. You just don't trust me."

  "That's not true," said Taine.

  "Yes, it is," said Janet, her voice steady. "Remember, Taine, I've been through it all before. I refuse to be a sucker again."

  A solitary tear trickled down her cheek. Angrily, she brushed it away. "I trusted you. I really did. I was dumb enough to think you cared for me. I fell for you like a love-struck teenager. Don't you realize that trust works two ways? How can I believe you if you won't tell me the truth?"

  Taine looked miserable. He started to speak, then stopped, then started again. "You're making too much of a fuss over nothing," he said softly. "At least, give me the benefit of a doubt."

  Reaching out, he took one of her hands in his. "I do care for you. More than I probably dare admit, even to myself. But there's more to this case than you realize. Give me one more day, Janet. It all ends tomorrow night. Trust me—trust me until then."

  Taine sounded sincere, but sincerity wasn't enough. She wanted to believe him. She needed to trust him. But memories of Roger haunted her. She couldn't stand being hurt again.

  "I'll think about it," she said, fighting to keep her emotions in check. She was resolved not to let her physical desires overwhelm her common sense. "Give me the night to think things over."

  "I'll settle for that," said Taine, a downcast look on his face. Yet, for all of his solemn airs, the detective sounded quite pleased with her decision.

  A faint smile crossed his lips. "Not much of a wild evening on the town. Still, the world continues to turn. Maybe things will work out better than you imagine. How about if I get the check and take you home?"

  Janet forced back a sigh. So much for Timmy's marriage plans, she thought. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

  30

  As Ape reached for a cold can of ginger ale, the lights went out. Cursing, he lowered the soda pop back onto the refrigerator shelf, gently closed the appliance door and pulled out his shotgun. Silently, he slid through the door to the parlor.

  Once in the other room, he quickly dropped to his hands and knees. Close to the ground he presented less of a target. Ape feared his own companions as much as the Dark Man. Nervous men often acted without thinking. And all of them were armed with sawed-off shotguns.

  "That you, Ape?" whispered Boris Bennett from across the room.

  "Yeah. What's going on?"

  "I don't know. Morris hustled the boss in the bedroom right away. I told him to barricade the door. You wanna check the hall?"

  Beads of sweat popped out on Ape's forehead. He might be brave, but he wasn't crazy. "Not me. How about you?"

  Boris chuckled. "Count me out. I'm nice and comfortable here, with my head attached to my shoulders. Maybe give Jo-Jo a call downstairs."

  Ape crawled over to the phone. Picking up the receiver, he dialed the extension for the first floor phone.

  "Lights went out in the whole damned Temple," answered Jo-Jo on the first ring. "I sent two of the boys to check the fuses in the basement. You want me to call Com-Ed?"

  "Do that," said Ape, feeling slightly relieved. "You staying cool?"

  "No problem. That spook don't worry me. We got a dozen boys roaming the halls with Uzis. He be a fool to come here."