The Regime: Evil Advances (12 page)

“Well, no … well, I—”

“You probably know every detail.”

“Well, that has been in the news, Nicolae. No one believes it will actually—”

“Oh, it will happen. And we are on our way to a single global currency. It may take time, but if Stonagal has his way, all of Europe will join Russia in doing away with the euro and moving to the mark. Asia, Africa, and the Middle East will trade exclusively in yen. North and South America and Australia will deal in dollars.”

Reiche looked stricken. “That is the plan, I believe, yes. But nothing has been decided, and—”

“It is only a matter of time, Reiche. The question is, with the kind of access you have to Stonagal, why would you not be my source for such information? Why do I have to hear this elsewhere?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted or needed to—”

“To be kept updated on international financial matters? Are you mad? Have you no concept of what I am trying to accomplish here?”

“Well, as I say, I apologize, and in the future I will—”

“Do you seriously believe you have a future with me, Reiche?”

“I certainly hope so. I—”

“I would have to be insane.”

“Now, Nicolae, you must know that Mr. Stonagal and I are close, and—”

“And you believe that because I am into him for a hundred million and you knew him before I was born, that gives you some sort of protection—”

“No, I am not saying that! I want to emphasize that I believe in you. I am loyal to you. I may have fumbled the ball a time or two here, but it has not been with an ill motive. I just need to know what you need from me, and I will do all I can to—”

“You would like to prove your devotion to me?”

“Absolutely. I’ll do anything—”

“Well, we shall see about that.”

“Try me, Nicolae. You will see.”

“You would be willing to meet privately with Emil Tismaneanu?”

“I would be honored.”

“And you would speak for me?”

“A double honor.”

“You might wish to withhold judgment on that until you know what I want communicated.”

“I am puzzled, however, sir. How did you know these things without my telling you? Does Mr. Stonagal—?”

“Confide in me? Hardly. But the day may come when he wishes he had.”

Rayford didn’t know what to think the first time Irene seemed to encourage his early Sunday morning golf game. He had been aware of her getting up in the night and quietly working in the closet and downstairs, but

that was not unusual. She often had trouble sleeping. He was surprised at dawn, however, to discover that she had laid out his golfing clothes, put his golf bag next to his car, and even packed him a little goody bag with a frozen bottle of water, a couple of energy bars, and a love note.

In the note she also wished him a good game and said she and the kids would like to join him for lunch in the clubhouse after church. Rayford felt guilty that that didn’t sound like such a good idea. Hanging with his golfing buddies for a sandwich and a brew was all part of the milieu, but he could hardly turn her down after all this.

Should he beg off from the guys and tell them he had lunch plans elsewhere? He didn’t really want the kids in the clubhouse, especially at lunchtime. Rayford considered leaving Irene a note suggesting that he meet her and the kids at a fast-food place for lunch.

Ah, there was no point in upsetting her. He could live with her plan this once. Maybe he’d even have the rest of the foursome join them. Surely Irene would see that it was awkward and not suggest it again.

Irene was sitting in church when her cell phone vibrated. She peeked at the caller ID and recognized the number of the health-care facility in Belvidere. Slipping into the foyer, she returned the call to find that Mr. Steele was in critical condition.

“What in the world?” she said. “We just saw him.”

“Actually, this is not unusual, ma’am. Alzheimer’s patients often have internal problems that don’t come to light except for random testing. They don’t understand or recognize pain, and often they complain of things that don’t exist while missing serious problems that do. Mr. Steele is undergoing renal failure and has already been moved to the hospital wing. He may soon be reclassified as grave. We have not succeeded in reaching your husband.”

“I’ll let him know, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Irene called Jackie, who said she would come right over from New Hope and take Chloe and Raymie to her home after church. Irene informed the kids’ teachers and rushed to her car, dialing Rayford’s number. She immediately got his voice mailbox, which reminded her that cell phones were verboten on the course at his club. She left a message, then called the clubhouse. They agreed to track him down.

By the time Irene pulled into the parking lot of the health-care facility, a hearse was parked at the curb. She prayed it wasn’t for her father-in-law and told herself there were a lot of old and potentially terminal patients here. On the other hand, she had never before seen a hearse here.

Rushing into the hospital wing, she was intercepted by her in-laws’ caseworker.

“I’m sorry, Irene,” the woman said. “He’s gone.”

Gone? “This makes no sense,” she said, reaching for the wall to steady herself. “So sudden.”

“I’ve made arrangements for you to talk with the physician, and there’s an aide who wants to talk to you.”

“Where’s my mother-in-law?”

“In her room. Sedated. You can imagine her tailspin.”

“I should see her.”

“She’s sleeping, last I heard.”

The doctor told Irene basically what she had been told when she was first called. “With Mr. Steele not being bedridden, we knew of no reason to monitor his urine

output. He didn’t complain until this morning, but apparently he had been unable to eliminate for some time. His color was bad, and he was suffering by the time we diagnosed the problem. We moved him over here, but he had already suffered a kidney shutdown, and it was a race against time, which we obviously lost.”

Irene wanted to be waiting at the entrance when Rayford arrived, and she had to be reminded that an aide wanted to talk with her too. He was a young, fleshy Asian man wearing institutional blues. She asked him to join her in chairs near the door.

He introduced himself as Erap from the Philippines, and Irene noticed a faint blue tattoo of a tiny fish between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers. “I am a Christian,” he said.

“I am too,” Irene said.

“I know.”

“How?” she said. “Do I know you? I don’t recall meeting you.”

“My cousin works in the supervised care unit,” he said. “She told me she thought you were. But I know from Mr. Steele.”

“What? Mr. Steele told you?”

“Not in so many words.”

“I’m listening, Erap.”

“I could see that your father-in-law was dying. In fact, I called in the code blue. In the few seconds before they rolled in the crash cart, I asked Mr. Steele if he was conscious and could understand me. He was barely speaking,

but he nodded. I told him he needed to get right with God and receive Christ.

“I asked if he knew he was a sinner and separated from God. He nodded. I asked if he believed Jesus died on the cross for his sins. He nodded. I asked if he was willing to pray and accept Jesus into his heart. He said, ‘I already did.’ I said, ‘You did?’ He said, ‘Yes, when my daughter-in-law told me how.’

“Mrs. Steele, I was there until they finished trying to save him. And those were his last words. I thought you would want to know.”

Cameron Williams told his mother he was going to try to get home during the holidays. “With the money for the plane ticket from the
Globe
and a little loan from my Welsh friend, Dirk, I should be able to make it.”

“Don’t go to any trouble, Cam. There’s no rush.”

How he wished he could believe that. Of course, his brother, Jeff, didn’t like the idea. “She’s not going to tell you how bad off she is, Cameron. And Dad can’t talk with her sitting right there. She looks terrible, hardly eats, can’t get around well. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but that’s where she ought to be.”

“That’s her call, isn’t it, Jeff?”

“‘Course it is, but I’m telling you, she’s fading fast.”

“She sounded pretty good on the phone.”

“So you’re calling me a liar?”

“Come on, Jeff. We’re not in junior high anymore.

I’m just saying she sounded fairly perky. And she was so proud of this honor I’m getting. She wants me to bring her pictures and news clippings.”

“So you’re coming when?”

“If I can find a few more bucks, I’ll book a flight for the day I return to Princeton from Boston.”

“How much more do you need?”

“A couple hundred. I can get one of those super-cheap non-refundables if I book it this week.”

“I’ll put a check in the mail today.”

“Jeff, I can’t ask you to do that. I—”

“You didn’t ask. Come on, Cam. This isn’t for you or about you. It’s about Mom. You should be here tomorrow to be safe. What’re we looking at now, ten days?”

“Twelve.”

“Gimme a break.”

“I’ll see you then, Jeff. And thanks.”

“Whatever.”

Irene was not sure how the loss of his father truly affected Rayford. He was shocked, of course, at the suddenness of it, but he quickly seemed to go into business mode, making sure his mother was taken care of and that the funeral did justice to his father’s memory.

Unfortunately, the funeral was held at the family’s longtime church, Central Church. “I swear,” Irene told Rayford as they prepared to leave for the church, “if there is no mention of your father’s faith during the eulogies I’m going to say something.”

“No.”

“No? What are you saying?”

“Don’t embarrass me or the pastor.”

“It would embarrass you to have people know that your father was a true believer?”

“A deathbed convert is more like it, Irene. After your browbeating and that Filipino kid’s badgering, what choice did a confused, dying man have? Anyway, he’s already known in this church as a true believer for a lifetime.”

“This won’t be doing justice to your father.” This was the last thing she wanted to fight over, but it was as if she couldn’t help herself.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything weird, Irene.”

“You’d consider it weird if I merely told the truth?”

“I’d be humiliated.”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, despising that she felt so weak. “I won’t humiliate you, Rayford.”

“Thank you.”

“I do wish your mother could be here. You couldn’t stop her from telling the truth.”

“Depends on your idea of truth,” he said. “People would pass it off as the ravings of an Alzheimer’s patient.”

“But I would know better. And so would you.”

“You know what I think, Irene. The truth is my dad has always been a Christian. He didn’t just get religion before he died.”

On the way into the service, Rayford was accosted by his childhood Sunday school teacher. She tearfully wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, dear. Your father was a great man.”

“Yes, he was, Mrs. Knuth. Thank you.”

Irene couldn’t keep from weeping throughout the service. It was worse than she expected. While all the familiar Scriptures about death and rebirth were employed, nothing that was said explained them or brought the point home. Mr. Steele was revered, but there was no mention of his coming to a saving belief in Christ, no mention of his ever repenting of sin and putting his faith in God.

Irene was still crying on the way home, quietly grateful that the weather had finally turned and she would not be a golf widow again until spring. Rayford surprised her by putting a hand on her knee as he drove. “I do appreciate all the time you took with my parents,” he said. “I really do.”

His voice sounded quavery, and it was as close to tears as she had seen him in years.

“That’s not over,” she said. “I’ll keep seeing your mom, of course.”

“But they’re saying she’s already almost as bad off as Dad was mentally. Incoherent, and refusing to come today unless Dad came with her.”

“All the more reason.”

“IS HE
YOUR
PARTNER?”

“I beg your pardon?” Cameron said.

“How would you like us to list Mr. Burton?”

“He’s a classmate.”

“You’re not lovers then?”

“Urn, no. Are we supposed to bring only significant others?”

“No, I was just wondering. We’ll put him down as ‘friend’; how’s that?”

“Accurate.”

Cameron was thrilled to be allowed to bring a guest to the
Boston Globe
event. Apparently others were bringing family members or lovers.

“There’s another reason I ask,” the woman said. “The executive editor of the
Globe
and a few of his associates

would like a moment with you in his office after the banquet. Are you able to accommodate that request?”

“Well, sure. That’d be great.”

“Your friend would not be included in that, unless he was your significant other.”

“Really? Why?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“I mean, you don’t think they’re talking about something I would want to inform my loved ones about.”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, okay.”

“He would be joining you then?”

“No. No. He’ll wait. That will be no problem.”

“The
Globe
is just up the street from the banquet site, and I don’t expect your meeting will be long.”

Irene could tell Rayford felt trapped. With the weather no longer conducive to golf, he no longer had an alternative to church on Sunday mornings. He still had some Sunday flights, but there were only so many. And when he was in town, there was really nothing else to do.

“You know what, Rafe?” Irene said. “I’ll bet you’d enjoy attending New Hope, and it wouldn’t be such an ordeal to talk yourself into going.”

“No you don’t. You haven’t even been there. How do you know?”

“I can tell from what Jackie says. It’s like I already know the pastor, Reverend Billings, even though I’ve