The Mormon Candidate - a Novel (31 page)

The psychiatrist peered at Ben as if trying to diagnose his mental illness.

“
Really, I’d like to know. W
as
the shock therapy
successful?”

“Obviously not.” Dr. Neibauer waved
his
glasses
at the
overlook
and the precipice below them. “
In my line of work, a patient’s suicide means total
failure.
It
’
s our worst professional hazard.”

“Do you feel guilty?”

The psychiatrist
looked
at
Palmyra, who stood by the open door of the Suburban, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “Our faith
provides
great comfort. We know that after this
mortal
life, there is a wonderful future for us
with our
heavenly fa
ther
, where we will unite with our family and live forever in His blessed presence.”

They joined Palmyra. She used another tissue to blow her nose and dropped it in a
small plastic bin
that sat on the floor between the front seats, over
flowing with trash. Ben glimpsed
the interior of the car, which was tidy yet
aged
.

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Palmyra said. “Please
respect
my husband
’s right
to rest in peace.”

“Respect
ing
his wishes
,” Ben said
, “should come first, if we want him to have peace. Don’t you agree?”

“
I’d like to pray for him now.
” Palmyra
walked toward the edge.

“One last thing,” Ben said.

She
turned. “Yes?”

“
You didn’t tell me what triggered the last crisis.
” Ben smiled to dull the edge of his prying while shifting so that he stood between her and Dr. Neibauer.

“He
was angry with me
,” Palmyra said.

“
Why
?” Ben stepped closer to her.

“I w
ent
through his stuff
t
o
find
what he was talking about.”

“The floppy disk
?
”

She nodded.
“
An
old
-
fashion
ed
thing. About this size.” She
formed a square
with her
two
fingers
and thumbs.

“Was anything written on
the label
”

“
Maybe. I’m not sure
.”

“
What was on the disk itself, the memory
?”

“
I’m not good with computers.
”

“Go on,” Ben said, continuously shifting to block the psychiatrist’s access to Palmyra, who clearly didn’t want to lie.

“
I tried it in the computer, but it didn’t work.
”

This was shocking news, but Ben kept his voice even. “
Y
ou found
a
floppy disk,
put it into disk
drive, but the
data didn’t open on the screen?
”

“
And
i
t froze the computer,
so
I had to tell him.” Tears flowed down Palmyra’s
face. “He was very upset
. We argued,
and
he stormed out. The whole house shook from th
e engine of
his
cursed motorcycle. I hated that thing! It’s evil!
”

“Now, now, calm down.
” Dr. Neibauer got
around
Ben and gripped Palmyra’s arm. “
Let us
pray
now.
”

“
Where is it?” Ben followed
them back toward the edge of the
overlook
. “
Can you give me
that floppy disk?”

“I
cut
it to pieces,” she said. “Tiny little pieces
.
F
lushed them all down the toilet
.
Good riddance!
”

Ben
watch
ed
the psychiatrist and the widow stand at the edge and pray
,
their eyes on the rocks below, where her husband had died
. Was she lying about the
floppy disk? She
seemed to be
telling the truth.
But what if
Porter had pulled
a floppy disk
from
Zachariah’s
body on Sunday
, and not
a porn DVD
as he had claimed? Why h
ad Zachariah
kept
tw
o floppy disks?

There was no point in asking her more questions. Dr. Neibauer
was
intent on ending the session. Ben turned back and noticed that the Suburban door was still open. He went over, leaned through the open doo
r, and turned over the trash bin
on the passenger seat. He fingered through the litter—moist tissues, candy wrappings, used eyeliner, cotton pads, crumpled mail envelopes, supermarket coupons, a broken pencil, and a clump of light-colored hair. He
glanced over his shoulder. Palmy
ra was still praying, but the psychiatrist was looking at the view, perhaps trying to pinpoint the roofs of the rustic buildings of the presidential retreat at Camp David.

Stuffing everything back in the trash can as quickly as he could, Ben
felt a sharp edge scrape against his fingers. It was a laminated card, cut in half. He rummaged through the pile again and found the second half, but before he could examine it, Dr. Neibauer’s voice startled him.

“Mr.
Teller
!
What are you doing?”

Ben shoved the piece
s
in his pocket, s
tuffed everything back in
the
bin
, and turned to see t
he psychiatrist
walking toward him
. “
Looks new,
” Ben said. “
Incredible
condition for
such
an
old vehicle!
”

Dr. Neibauer reached him and glanced into the Suburban before shutting the door. “We believe in raising large families, which require
s
large cars
, but necessitates
frugality. You understand?”

“I
do
,” Ben said.
“What I don’t understand is how a good family man like Zachariah Hinckley could be driven to this.” He pointed at the
overlook
, where Palmyra was still standing in prayer. “And don’t try to sell me the
PTSD or microscopic brain injuries
, because I’m not buying.
”

The psychiatrist pursed his lips. “
Pathological o
bsession, Mr. Teller,
could be
a
manifestation o
f mental illness. In some cases, it could be fatal.”

“Same with pathological lying, Doctor.”

Chapter 38

Ben
watched them drive off. He understood the message Dr. Neibauer came to del
iver, but it only fuel
ed
his determination to uncover the truth
. He
took the piece
s
of the laminated card
from his pocket and
held the two together.
It had Zachariah’s name and photo on it
and the signatures of Bishop Linder and another man whose title was
Stake President
.
A quick Internet search on his iPhone
led
Ben
to an image
of
a similar
Temple Recommend
Card.

Reading more about it o
n a Mormon website, he learned that this
was
basically an admission card to a Mormon
t
emple that was issued by the LDS Church only to members in good standing, certified by their ward’s lay bishop
and the regional president
on an annual basis.
While all members and
Gentile
guests
were welcome for
services in any local ward, the temples of the Mormon
C
hurch were only accessible
to
saints
holding a Temple Recommend
Card
.

Those qualified
s
aints entered t
he temples not for regular prayers,
which took place in the local Mormon wards,
but to
participate in
elaborate rituals and ceremonies, including marriage
s
, sealing of families together for eternity,
baptizing
,
endowments
for the dead, and other secret procedures called
“
Ordinances
”
involving
washing and anointing
of various body parts and a reenactment of the multiple levels of the afterlife heavenly world.

The Temple Recommend C
ard and the participation in temple rituals were
honor
s
bestowed
only to
s
aints
who continuously observed the Mormon rules,
participated in ward activities,
obeyed the church authorities, and sent 10
percent
of their income to the LDS headquart
ers in Salt Lake City
.
The loss of a Temple Recommend could be the result of punishment, such as “Disfellowshipment,” which was like suspension for a period of time with attached conditions for reinstatement, or “Excommunication,” which was a permanent removal from the LDS Church and often resulted in
total
banishment by all relatives and friends who remained in the church.

Ben
assumed that
the Temple Recommend C
ard
had been cut i
n half due to Zachariah’s trial and punishment by the LDS authorities. Holding the
pieces
in his hand, Ben went to the edge of the
overlook
and l
ook
ed
down to where Zachariah died. Had this been an act of desperation,
an escape from un
b
earab
le pain? Had Zachariah Hinckley killed
himself
after
the rest of his world
had
collapsed?
Dr. Neibauer had pushed too hard to convince Ben of this theory, which had the opposite effect, convincing Ben that it wasn’t the truth.

Looking again at the Internet article
on his iPhone
, Ben clicked on a highlighted term:
baptizing the dead.
It linked to
an article about an ongoing dispute regarding the Mormon Church’s efforts to identify and baptize Jewish victims of the Holocaust. The article mentioned a DC lawyer named Larry
Ginsburg
, who had represented Jewish organizations in the dispute. A click on his name linked Ben
to
his biographical page on the
law
firm’s
web
site
.

Ben
called the phone number.

A secretary answere
d, but indicated that Mr. Ginsburg
was on a conference call and could not be interrupted.
She took
Ben
’
s
name and
phone number.

As he turned to head back to his motorcycle, something
caught
Ben’s
attention
. About halfway down the cliff,
over to the side, a
leafless bush
had
a piece of paper
stuck in it
. There was lettering on it in black and red, but it
was too far to read. At first he thought it was part of a cigarette pack, tossed away by a careless visitor, but it didn’t resemble any of the brand designs.