“Of course, I use the term loosely, for what sort of human would defile himself so by doing such a thing to a helpless animal? But yes, you heard correctly, the father is human!
“Now, I know what you’re saying in your hearts, if you’re not crying it out loud, ‘Why, Reverend Eckert? Why would God allow such an unspeakable thing to occur?’ And I must tell you, friends, that I asked myself the same question. I wondered if this could be a sign of the End Times: Could the child of this unholy union be the Antichrist?
“But the Lord his own self was guiding my thoughts because I suddenly realized that this unborn child is just the opposite of the Antichrist. For it will notbe born to establish Satan’s rule on earth, but to dislodge his foul foothold, destroy the satanic beachhead we know as SinGen!
“That is therealreason the company is offering so much to find this poor, mistreated, pregnant sim.
“So I say to you, my brothers and sisters, do not listen when you are told that this can’t be true, that it’s just another urban legend. It isnot!If you live in the Northeast, live anywhere in or around New York City, I beg you, as soon as I am finished here: Leave your homes and hie into the streets to look for this unfortunate creature.
“And if you find her, do not call SinGen, no matter how much money it is offering. Do not allow yourselves to be tempted by the devil’s offer. Sell this sim and you are selling your soul. Instead, call the number flashing at the bottom of your screen and I will personally see to it that this sim and its child are protected from Satan’s forces.
“And when the child is born, I shall bring it to the halls of Congress and display it to the leaders of our nation. And then the scales shall fall from their eyes and they will see that they have allowed an abomination to move into their house; and the shackles shall loosen from their limbs and they will act, casting SinGen into the outer darkness whence it came, where there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
“Go now, my brothers and sisters. Fill the streets. Waste not another moment. Find—”
The screen went blank. Another touch on the desktop and the lights came up.
Luca blinked, momentarily mute with shock. He opened his mouth to speak but Sinclair voiced his thoughts.
“He knows! How thehell did he find out?”
“A leak,” Luca said. “I’ve suspected one for some time now.”
“You think the room is bugged? By someone other than you, I mean.”
Luca was taken aback by the casualness of the remark.
“What?” Sinclair said, a tiny smile twisting his lips. “You think I don’t know your people have this office bugged? Probably the whole campus as well, am I right?”
He was. Offices, labs, even rest rooms—all bugged. Luca shrugged it off.
“We sweep this office regularly. No listening devices of any sort.” Other than ours.
“Ifound out yesterday,” Sinclair said, then pointed to the blank TV screen. “Heknows today. How else but a bug?”
“A person. I’ve long suspected your brother. This confirms it.”
“It confirms nothing of the sort. Ellis? Ridiculous!”
“Really? Until yesterday, only a select few of our people knew. Even the men I’ve had combing the city don’t know; they think we want this sim because she’s got a rare immune globulin in her blood. Weeks of searching without a hint of a leak. But yesterday afternoon I tell you and your brother, and today, just twenty-four hours later, the Reverend Eckert is telling the world. If it’s not your brother, then it’s you.”
Sinclair sat down and drummed his fingers on the desk. “Well, it’s not me. And I can’t believe it’s Ellis, not after the way your people threatened his children.”
“I’m not aware of any threat.”
“No? Well, I guess it was before your time.”
That part was true. But Luca knew perfectly well what the CEO was talking about. A brilliant little op, involving nothing overt, but it had kept Ellis Sinclair in line ever since.
Sinclair looked at him. “Maybe Eckert did have a revelation.”
“You don’t really expect—”
“I don’t mean from God.”
“Then—”
“Hear me out. Here’s this guy who’s got a hard-on for SimGen. He hears we’re offering five million to find this lost sim, so he figures out the worstcase scenario for us, and broadcasts it. It’s just a coincidence that he happens to hit on the truth.”
Luca snorted. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
Sinclair sighed. “No. No, I don’t.”
“However Eckert came to it, we can count on a lot of his people on the streets looking for that sim, trying to find her first.”
“Does that worry you, Mr. Portero? Don’t let it. The more the merrier. Eckert’s people merely increase our chances. They may believe in God, but when it comes down to five million dollars’ worth of cold hard cash, they’ll believe in that even more.”
“We’ll see.” Luca wasn’t so sure about that, but saw no point in arguing. He had another point to press. “In the meantime, my people will expect you to do something about your brother.”
“Very well. From now on, any meetings concerning matters of a sensitive nature will be conducted without him.” His eyes narrowed. “But you don’t have any hard evidence against Ellis, do you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have looked so shocked when I played you that tape. I’d be surprised if you weren’t monitoring his calls. Have you been following him as well?”
“No. But we will.”
Truth was, he’d set tails on Sinclair-2 a number of times but they always lost him. Looked like he’d have to tail him personally.
I can spread myself only so thin, damn it.
“Starting when? Tonight?”
“No, not tonight. But soon.”
He had a more pressing matter to attend to. He and Lister had spent much of the day setting up an op for tonight. The target, Romy Cadman, knew Luca’s face so he could not be directly involved, but he’d be on standby, eagerly awaiting the results. By the end of the night he’d have established a solid link of money and information between Cadman and Ellis Sinclair.
And then there’d be no need to follow anyone anywhere.
3
MANHATTAN
“Really,” Romy said as their cab climbed the on-ramp to the Brooklyn Bridge, “this is unnecessary. I’m more than capable of finding my own way home.”
“You heard what our friend said this afternoon,” Patrick replied. “‘Be careful.’ And that’s what we’re doing.”
Beside him, in the darkness of the rear seat, he saw her shake her head. “An awfully long trip.”
“Not if I’m with you.”
Light from a passing car reflected off her smile. “What a nice thing to say. But perhaps I should have phrased it a little differently: This is going to be an awfully longround trip.”
As the bejeweled towers of Lower Manhattan dwindled behind them, Patrick thought about the day. A good day. Any day with more ups than downs was a good day. After the shock of learning who was behind the SLA and the globulin farm murders had worn off, and Patrick had settled down from his initial elation over the news of the pregnant sim, they’d brainstormed ways to find Meerm. Reverend Eckert’s exhortation to his followers to track her down for him instead of for SimGen—a message he’d be hammering into his viewers day after day—would help, but they still hadn’t figured out a way to fit Tome into the equation.
As darkness fell they’d called it a day, Zero taking off in the van, and Romy accepting Patrick’s invitation to dinner. They’d walked downtown and found a bistro in Chelsea that looked inviting. A pair of Rob Roys before and a shared bottle of pinot noir during a meal of various pastas and sauces had left Patrick in a genial mood. He figured Romy, who’d matched his Rob Roys with Cosmopolitans, had to be feeling mellow herself.