While she waited, Jessica was deserted by Neil Gallagher, who'd conferred with Dr. Karl Repasi and had invited Repasi to join him in the helicopter to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. With this team away and awaiting the next strike of the cobra at the next stop on the killer's itinerary-an itinerary that may well have changed by now-Jessica at least felt some breathing space.
She remained uncertain of the killer's path now, whether he would indeed show himself in Jackson Hole, but just the same, she and Gallagher had little else to go on. An hour after Gallagher and Repasi had left her, Jessica was joined by J. T., who swept her up in his arms. They held one another for a long time, J. T. asking all in one breathless fell swoop, "How's-Bishop-doing, how're-you-Jess, ' n-what-happened?''
"Bishop's torn up on the inside like a garden soaker. If he survives, his prognosis for a full recovery isn't good." Tears filled Jessica's eyes. "Worst of it is, John, he used us, used both of us."
"Used?"
Jessica confided what little she understood and suspected of Bishop's botched attempt at ridding the world of the Phantom via Frank Lorentian's hired thugs.
"He must've been in to Lorentian big time from the get-go," said J. T. "And to think, we never suspected him of a thing."
"We may never know exactly what kind of debt he owed to Frank Lorentian, if he doesn't survive."
"What about the other two, Lorentian's goons?"
"Second-degree burns to the face; neither man may ever see again. One of them was that guy we met at Lorentian's, his bodyguard Rollo."
"I knew we'd be dogged by Frank Lorentian. I just knew it. But I thought it was Repasi."
"Karl Repasi, too, was keeping tabs on us-for Warren, near as I can tell. Warren was paying Karl to keep him informed of our movements."
"That explains a lot." J. T. again comforted her and said, "I'm sorry about all this, Jess. Really I am. I know you and Bishop go back a long way."
"I thought I knew him."
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Jess. I didn't suspect the man of a thing, either, certainly nothing like this."
"Meanwhile, a killer goes free. We could've had him, John! Damn Warren for that, damn him."
Again J. T. held her, trying to absorb her pain. In a moment she pulled away, dabbing tears from her eyes with a handkerchief that appeared to have seen a great deal of use this night. It was nearing 3:00 a.m.
She stepped away from him, bent, and lifted a notepad she'd been working on before he'd arrived. "Oh, by the way, J. T., look at this and give me your appraisal. I've had a lot of time on my hands here, and I've been reading Dante's Inferno, and the killer's list, all the missing pieces, you know?''
He reached out for the proffered notebook, nodding. "Yeah, what about the missing pieces?"
"I think I know what they are, what they'll be when they come."
J. T. gaped at her, the notepad half in his hands, half in hers. She wanted to push it fully into his hands like a hot potato.
The notepad was filled with the information she wished to share with Thorpe, information no one else had. "Working this out is the only thing that's kept me sane in this place, waiting word on Warren," she told him. "Go ahead, check my work. What do you think? You think the killer's final list will look like this?" She tore off a sheet from the notepad she held in her hand.
J. T. stared at the long list Jessica had completed. He sat down, holding the list before him, simply whistling aloud. The notepad read:
#1 is #9-Traitors
#2 is #8-Malicious Frauds
#3 is #7-Violents
#4 is #6-Heretics
#5 is #5-Wrathful amp; Sullen
#6 is #4-Avaricious amp; Prodigal
#7 is #3-Gluttonous
#8 is #2-Lustful
#9 is #1-(the last victim?) sent into
Limbo… through the Vestibule and over the River Acheron "Avaricious and Prodigal, Gluttonous and Lustful, you know the labels now from your research." J. T. scrunched up his eyes and asked, "The Vestibule? Vestibule? To where? And the River Acheron?"
"Entryway to Hell," she explained. "Hellsmouth, like Mammoth, maybe. Something he said over the phone to me once. I need to get to an atlas."
"Do you mean to tell me that this… all this has been some elaborate scheme simply to find a way to tell Jessica Coran to.. to go to Hell?"
"Very funny, my friend, but I think he has more in mind than that; I believe he wants to personally send me to Hell. Here." She tore off a second sheet from her notepad. "Take a look at this, too."
J. T. now stared at a set of concentric circles, each circle representing a level in Hades, or in the mind of the killer… or both. The notepaper read:
The Rungs of Hell
SEVENTEEN
Lord grant me patience, and I want it right now.
A solemn, overweight doctor in sneakers and green scrubs entered the waiting room, and Jessica leaped to her feet. The doctor explained that his portion of the operation- the intestinal tract-was finished, but that there were other complications, and that their vigil could go on for another two or three hours. "Sorry," finished the doctor, "but he was badly chewed up, internally."
"Any improvement on his prognosis, Doctor?" asked Jessica.
"I'm afraid not."
"Then it'll be hours before he's out of intensive care."
"Yes, it will. Again, I'm sorry I can't have better news for you."
Jessica knew she didn't have that kind of time, not if she wished to catch a killer, yet her heart tugged at her to be here with Warren should he recover. Should he… She banned her final thought.
A male nurse entered and asked if there was a Doctor Jessica Coran in the waiting room. "Telephone call at the desk for you,'' he announced.
Jessica looked from the nurse to J. T., a birdlike fear flitting before her mind's eye, a thought fully formed: Who knows I'm here?
J. T., reading her thoughts, supplied an answer: "Santiva's got to have had word by now on what's happened here. He'll want a full report."
Jessica nodded and asked the nurse to lead the way. She followed the young man to the nurses' station; he pointed to a small, enclosed office, saying, "You can take it in there."
Being alone in the room with the phone was like standing in a pit with a snake. She stared at the waiting phone where it blinked and winked up at her. Finally, she took the receiver in hand and pounced on the hold button. "Hello."
Santiva barked, "Jessica, what in hell's going on there? I thought you said this Bishop fellow was top drawer, and now I learn he's compromised an entire operation?"
"Eriq, I don't know what was going down with Warren," she lied, not wishing to discuss it now, and certainly not over the phone. ''All we know for certain is that he may not make it through the night, and even if he does, he'll be paralyzed, possibly for life." She choked on the facts.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Damn it, and just when we've gotten a line on what the list is getting at, too, Jessica."