"I grew aware of Caldwell's perfidy many months ago. It was obvious from the first that he was working closely with Willis Royce. However, I suspected that other members of the inner council of our Order were involved as well. Determined to expose them all, I decided to create an outside menace threatening the entire drug operation. Thus I called up the Dark Man, the supposed agent of a mythical White Lodge.

  "My ruse worked perfectly. Caldwell found himself unable to handle the Dark Man on his own. He turned to me for aid. My feigned weakness drove him to desperate measures. Royce's death compounded his problems. An abject coward, he dared not face me alone, even in my supposed critical condition. He was thus forced to call on his veiled confederates. Tonight, the trap sprung shut. Three traitors perished."

  "Great," someone called sarcastically from the audience. "You virtually wiped out the most profitable branch of our activities catching these renegades. What do we do now about the crack market? Abandon it?"

  Sangmeister smiled, as if waiting for that question. Janet wondered if perhaps the Grand Master had agents planted in the audience, prompting the crowd just at the right moments. Too many of the happenings tonight seemed the result of cold and calculated orchestration. The more she considered the idea, the more positive she became of its truth. This whole evening was a puppet show run by Sangmeister for his own amusement. All of them present were mere pawns in his demented game.

  "The Dark Man destroyed the Children of Danballah," said Sangmeister, "but the drug trade continues to flourish. We can easily recapture what was ours, and even expand into fresh, untapped markets. New addictive drugs are constantly finding their way into the American mainstream. Why should we concentrate solely on crack when we can branch out into crank, a powerful narcotic not dependent on cocaine for its base? Cheap, deadly and easy to make, it is the leader in the coming wave of addictive drugs for the 1990s. The possibilities are staggering. What we need is the will to compete in a cutthroat market and a man with the necessary ruthlessness to eliminate our enemies. I think we have both."

  It sounded like a pep talk for a group of dedicated businessmen looking for investment opportunities. In a way, it was. Only the potential investors were members of the Black Lodge. And the product under consideration was death.

  "In the course of my work, I recently encountered a young man possessing all the skill, determination and sheer viciousness to insure our success. Ambitious and utterly without morals, he is the perfect choice to head our new drug operation. His name is Roger Fremont."

  With the hood of his cassock pushed back to reveal his drawn features, Sangmeister's assistant stepped forward. No one in the audience said a word in protest. They seemed willing to go along with anything the Grand Master wished.

  If anything, Roger looked worse than the last two times Janet had seen him. She found it inconceivable Sangmeister wanted this burned-out wreck in charge of a multimillion dollar narcotics network.

  In his hands he carried the widemouthed silver bowl, retrieved from the side of the podium. Carefully, he placed it directly beneath Angel Caldwell's shapely buttocks. "The altar stands prepared," he announced, his voice trembling with anticipation.

  "Bring forth the Lamb," said Sangmeister.

  Janet wanted to scream. Another Initiate came striding out of the darkness into the circle of light on stage. In his arms, he carried an unconscious child dressed entirely in white. Tim. Gently, the man laid the boy across Angel's nude body.

  "Steady," said Taine, his hand clutching her as if trying to give her some of his strength. "The time isn't right yet. Trust me. Please. Give him that second chance."

  She had no idea what Taine was talking about. All she knew was that her son, her baby, was about to be killed by those maniacs, and there was nothing they could do. Nothing at all. She felt her world crumbling to pieces around her.

  "As is the custom, to join the Inner Circle of the Lodge, an Initiate must signal his obedience to the Order by sacrificing that which is most dear to him. Are you willing to drink the blood of your firstborn child, Roger Fremont, to become a Master of this Lodge?"

  "Yes," said Roger, without hesitation.

  "Then so be it," said Sangmeister.

  Trembling with emotion, Roger stepped up to the human altar. From beneath his robe, he pulled a silver dagger. "Aquerra Goity, Aquerra—"

  "No!" shouted someone from the audience. A red-robed master dashed up the steps and onto the stage. "You can't do this. I forbid it. I forbid it."

  Janet felt her senses reeling. It was her father.

  "Sorry, Leo," said Sangmeister, looking anything but. "You know the rules. No one interferes with the sacrifice. The penalties are," and he hesitated, smiling, "quite severe."

  "Screw the rules," said Leo. He raised a snub-nosed automatic into the air. "I gave the life of one of my children to this damnable Lodge. It was the biggest mistake I ever made. For twenty years, I've suffered for that one insane moment. Now you want the soul of my only grandson. I won't permit it. You can't do this to me again."

  Hot tears filled Janet's eyes, blurring her vision for a second. She remembered a cryptic conversation between her father and Taine from the night before. Now she understood the significance of those remarks about sin and redemption. Taine had known the truth about Leo all along. Her father was the one who deserved that second chance.

  "I thought you knew better, Leo," said Sangmeister, shaking his head in mock despair. "My warding spells protect me from bullets."

  "They shield you," replied Leo, nodding his head in agreement. He turned and pointed his gun at Roger. "But not that scum."

  Serenely, he squeezed the trigger. The gun in his hand barked once, then again. Roger's mouth dropped open in a look of incredible surprise. Two small black holes appeared side by side in the center of his forehead. The silver dagger dropped from his lifeless hand. Without a word, he slumped to the floor, dead.

  "A life for a life, Leo," said Sangmeister, stepping from behind the altar. The butcher's cleaver gleamed brightly in the footlights.

  "I realized that," said Leo, letting go of the gun. "No reason anymore to sacrifice the child, though."

  Sangmeister shrugged, as if in agreement. He raised his blade for the killing blow. But before he could strike, Leo collapsed in a crumpled heap at his feet.

  Bending over, Sangmeister examined the motionless figure. "Poison," he announced, with a grim chuckle of amusement as he stood up. "Even in the end, he refused to play by the rules. Of all those who opposed me, he was the only one with real style."

  With a wave of his hand, Sangmeister summoned his help. "Clear these bodies off the floor. This place is starting to resemble the last act of Hamlet. Remove the child also. I owe the old man that much. After all, the boy served me well. His presence forced Packard into his confrontation. He's been a thorn in my side for years. No more. I alone rule this Lodge. And once again we are at peace among ourselves."

  "Not yet," came the sharp retort from right next to Janet. Taine was on his feet, his grim features exposed to the night winds. "By the rules of this Order, I claim the right of Trial By Combat."

  "Mr. Taine," said Sangmeister, pleasantly. "How nice of you to show up. I was hoping you would attend our meeting. And I see you brought your friends with you. Wonderful."

  Sangmeister paused, as if lost in thought. "I am at a loss regarding your demands, however. Are you a member of the Black Lodge?"

  "I don't have to be. You said it yourself only a few minutes ago. Remember? The rules of the Order are quite explicit on that topic. Anyone attending the ceremony is welcome to disagree with you. Anyone."

  Frowning, Sangmeister reluctantly nodded in agreement. "You seem to know quite a bit about our Lodge. Too much, in my opinion. In any case, I accept your argument. Who do you wish to challenge? One of the Initiates, perhaps even one of the few remaining Masters?"

  "None of them," said Taine. Raising one hand, he pointed a finger directly at the Grand Master. "You hold the only true position of power in this Order, Sangmeister. That's what I want. I challenge you to Trial By Combat for control of the Black Lodge."

  49

  By the time they reached the stage, Sangmeister had regained control of his temper. For a few seconds after hearing Taine's purpose, the Grand Master appeared ready to explode. Rage contorted his features as they turned a deep shade of crimson. Obviously he had been caught off guard.

  Now, however, he was in complete command of his faculties. A sardonic smile crossed his face as they lined up before him. "We finally meet. What a pleasure it is to be face-to-face with my most troublesome foes." Sarcasm laced every word. "Here you all are, the New Age detective and his faithful friends—four fools looking for death."

  Taine shuddered. More and more, the Grand Master was taking on the shape and characteristics of his supernatural double. The old man seemed to grow taller, more massive, with each parting second. Black shadows swirled about, cloaking him in darkness. He spoke in smooth, honey-sweet tones not his own. Without any conscious thought or effort, Sangmeister was transforming into the Dark Man.

  "You're being overwhelmed, Sangmeister," said Taine, knowing he was wasting his breath. Still, he wanted to give the old man one last chance. "Your creation is taking you over, body and soul. Soon nothing human will remain—only darkness."

  Sangmeister laughed harshly. "Stop whining, Taine. You don't understand what is taking place. I'm in complete control of the situation. I initiated the change. Soon all of the powers of the Dark Man will be mine. Already I can feel his strength flowing in my veins. He doesn't require much. A few more blood sacrifices should complete the process. Then Harmon Sangmeister and the Dark Man will cease to exist as separate entities. Instead, there will be only one—Arelim."

  "You are the fool, not us," said Papa Benjamin unexpectedly. The voodoo priest's voice rang clear and true as a bell in the night air. "Hiding behind a new name will not save you from the fires of Hell."

  "Yeah," added Ape Largo. "You can call a pile of shit a rose, but it still smells like shit. Just like you, buddy."

  "How poetic," replied Sangmeister. He sneered at Ape. "It will be a pleasure chopping you to pieces, Mr. Largo. I'll try to make the pain last a long time."

  Smiling, he took a giant step closer. He raised the blood-stained cleaver. "Why you threw your life away I'll never understand. You actually escaped the Dark Man. You cheated certain death. Yet you came here tonight, risking your life for people you hardly know. It makes no sense."

  "Altruism means nothing to a self-centered maniac like you, Sangmeister," said Taine, measuring his words carefully. "Ape wants to know his place in the universe. He's a man searching for his destiny."

  Sangmeister stopped short, as if unexpectedly hit in the face. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice no longer so confident.

  "Exactly what I said," replied Taine. The Grand Master looked stricken. "The Wheel of Fortune stands for Ape Largo, a man seeking his destiny.

  "Pope Joan is Janet Packard, the mysterious woman.

  "The Hermit represents Papa Benjamin, whose hidden wisdom matches your own."

  "One person left," said Sangmeister, shifting back toward the lectern. The Lodge Master's voice trembled with fear. "What card do you represent, Taine?"

  "The thirteenth trump, of course," he answered with a nod. "La Mort, the skeleton."

  "Death," whispered Sangmeister. His features were the color of cold ashes. "Who are you, Sidney Taine?"

  "I revealed the truth to Victor Caldwell," answered Taine. "Not that it mattered very much. He immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. You've known all along who I represent, Sangmeister. Does it really matter?"

  The Grand Master shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't know what the hell you mean," he said angrily. "Nor do I care."

  Desperately, he swung the butcher's cleaver up over his head. "The solution to all my problems rests in this blade."

  On his right, Taine saw Ape Largo clench his huge hands into fists. The big man intended to die fighting. Next to the bodyguard was Papa Benjamin. The little priest stood straight and unafraid, his arms folded across his chest.

  Janet was on his left, her shaking hands clutching his arm for support. She obviously expected to die in the next few seconds. Yet she remained by his side.

  Their strength, their courage, their love enabled him to reach the necessary state of grace. "Four words of power gave your creation unnatural life," said Taine loudly. The microphone on the podium sent his words hurtling out into the crowd. As if sensing something terribly wrong, they began to rise. "It ends with one other."

  "No-o-o!" shouted Sangmeister, leaping forward to hack and tear. He never reached them. Calmly, deliberately, Taine correctly pronounced the tetragrammaton, the true name of God. "YHVH."

  50

  In a single heartbeat . . .

  Janet's sense of identity exploded in an exponential curve that defied all limits. She was one, then a hundred, then a thousand, then a million, then a billion, then all mankind. Then, all life, human or otherwise. Her personality fragmented into trillions of pieces, experiencing life in every possible stage of existence, from the barest spark of self-awareness to the most complex organisms on Earth. And everywhere, she found love to be the universal principle that governed all things.

  In a true state of grace, Janet beheld the Divinity of Life itself. By inscribing his name on the cosmos, God endowed each and every living being some small part of the Creator's will. Everything in the universe was a piece of a gigantic pattern whose ultimate purpose was beyond human understanding.

  To Janet, gazing upon the ever-increasing depths of the landscape of Creation, it was a confirmation and renewal of her love for her son, her family, her friends. She perceived the complexity and unity of all life. For one sublime moment, she experienced the totality of the physical universe and God's supreme presence.

  ... it came to an end.

  Taine was shaking her gently by the shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "I've never felt better in all my life," she replied. Still glowing from her one moment of spiritual lucidity, she looked up at Taine. "You've experienced this before?"

  "Only once," he said, with a smile. "Unfortunately, the effect wears off quickly. Humanity isn't ready yet for a perpetual state of grace."

  "I saw love," said Janet.

  "Brotherhood," said Taine, simply.

  Ape Largo, a look of awe on his face, came up to them. "I'm taking Mrs. Caldwell off that cross." He glanced over his shoulder at a motionless Harmon Sangmeister. The Grand Master appeared frozen in his tracks. "He ain't gonna be objecting to what we do, anymore. Nor is anybody else. Whatever you did, Taine, it sure put this crowd on ice."

  Janet looked around the amphitheater. Except for the four of them on stage, no one else was moving. All of the Lodge members were sprawled in their seats, unconscious or dead. Janet wasn't sure which. Nor did she care.

  "What did you see, Ape?" she asked, curiously.

  "Truth," he replied. "Peace. Forgiveness. During that one instant, I experienced the sufferings of a million others. The pain they felt burned out the bitterness in my soul. Through that, I realized the insignificance of my own physical limitations. The only limits on my success were ones of my own making."

  He grinned. "No more diminished expectations for me. I'm gonna be the best damned houn'gan imaginable. Excluding Papa Benjamin that is."

  "Of course," said the voodoo priest, solemnly. "As should always be the case between teacher and student."

  Then he, too, smiled. "Affirmation. I spent most of my life teaching that all life is one in the glory of God. I must admit it was refreshing to finally experience the revelations I preached.

  "I can die happy now." He laughed when he saw the shocked look on Ape's face. "Not that I intend to do so for another twenty years or more. Life still holds too many pleasures for me to abandon it so early."

  Turning to Janet, his features grew stern. "I kept my word, did I not? Your son survived this madness. Perhaps next time you will have more faith in your friends."

  Janet saw no reason to mention that Taine had done most of their rescuing. Besides, she wasn't exactly sure whose power had saved them all. Or how.

  "I apologize," she said, trying to sound properly humble.

  "Good," said Papa Benjamin. "Now, should we not try to find your little boy? He must be somewhere inside the mansion."

  It took the two of them fifteen minutes to find Tim asleep in a bedroom on the second floor of the huge building. Tears of relief trickled down Janet's cheeks as she knelt down and gently hugged him. Tim stirred but did not waken.

  "He is in a light trance," said Papa Benjamin. "I use much the same technique in many of my own ceremonies. There is no cause to worry. I will take care of his recovery. Tomorrow he will awaken without any memory of what happened during the past twenty-four hours. Go now. I need to be alone with him for a little while for the spell to work."

  Reluctantly, Janet departed. She wanted to be with her son, but there was no arguing with Papa Benjamin. And Tim's safety and well-being came first.

  She returned to the stage to find Taine examining Harmon Sangmeister. The big detective was gently trying to pry open Sangmeister's fingers gripping the butcher's cleaver.

  "What happened to him?" she asked, shuddering.

  The Grand Master was still alive. His chest rose and fell with his steady breathing. Physically, he looked exactly the same as before. All except his eyes. There was no sign of intelligence in his gaze. Dead, empty pupils stared out into infinity.

  "The tetragrammaton affects each individual in a different manner. Basically good people, such as the four of us, merged with the positive aspect of God's name. Though all of our experiences were unique, they all reflected the wonder and joy of the Divine Presence."