Back at the truck, he climbed inside the camper. Most of the camper was piled with cardboard boxes of God Shots religious tracts. The small makeup table was just to the left of the door near the bed, the wardrobe on hangers suspended from a ceiling hook, the makeup case under the bench. Jean had been easy on him; the face was essentially Daniel’s own, with the addition of five more years and a scar on his neck. In ten minutes Daniel was Isaiah Kharome.
The only thing he didn’t like about Isaiah Kharome was his sense of sartorial style. He assumed it was Jean’s idea of an April Fools’ joke. The florid Hawaiian shirt, a tangle of scarlet and lime, fought the blue-and-white-checkered polyester slacks, and the wild-plum blazer clashed with them both, though he was forced to concede a subtle coordination between the white socks and white embossed lettering – MIGHTY SPIRIT TOUCHDOWN CLUB – that encircled his hand-tooled belt, the buckle of which was a large single star. He did approve of Isaiah’s wallet, chocked with credit cards and crisp twenty-dollar bills. He checked the briefcase of emergency funds stashed in the camper’s false top. He didn’t have time to count it but if it wasn’t the twenty-five thousand dollars Volta had promised, it was close enough.
The sun had cleared the horizon when Daniel reached the highway. He stopped and tried to make sense of the cluster of road signs: Denver, Phoenix, Kansas City, El Paso. An early morning thermal lifted a dust devil off to his right. ‘Dust to dust,’ Daniel said in Isaiah’s voice, ‘ashes to ashes.’
Phoenix sounded good. Daniel pulled out slowly and headed west.
Volta had difficulty adding the hours he’d gone without sleep. Forty? The last eighteen, waiting for Daniel’s call, should count double, he decided. Or triple. He took another sip of coffee, then reached for the blue phone.
Smiling Jack answered immediately.
‘Anything?’ Volta said.
‘Nothing you haven’t heard four times already.’
‘No sign of pursuit?’
‘Nada. The guard changed at six o’clock like another day at the office. Either that gas erases memory, or he didn’t use it. No alarms. No nothing. You want my opinion?’
‘Of course,’ Volta said.
‘Daniel didn’t get it. He caught the changes and canceled out.’
‘And he hasn’t called in because he saw the changes and thought we might be setting him up. Is that it?’
‘He should know better, but yeah, that’s how it looks to me, too.’
Volta said, ‘Don’t include me in that claim; I believe he got it. He told Eddie he did, and he had something the size and shape of the Diamond in the pouch. It wasn’t his lunch.’
‘It might have been sand. Eddie said he just pointed at it and gave him a thumbs-up sign. Eddie was flying balls-to-the-wall. He admits he just glanced at the pouch. I mean, maybe Daniel can’t admit that he missed, that he––’ Smiling Jack stopped. ‘Hang on, Volt, I got something on the red line.’
Volta waited, certain what it would be.
Smiling Jack returned. ‘Well goddamn, good thing we didn’t get to betting on it. There’s a shit-storm of commotion around the tunnel, and some jets just got off at the air base.’
‘They discovered it’s gone,’ Volta said.
After a long pause, Smiling Jack asked almost angrily, ‘So how the fuck did he do it? No gas, no charge – I mean, where was it, on a silver platter in front of the tunnel?’
‘No telling,’ Volta said. ‘He might have seen a way to get by the alarms. That only leaves the lock and the guards. Maybe they all fell asleep, or were in one place shooting dice or doing drugs. Daniel’s sharp and resourceful.’
‘So we’re back to why he hasn’t called.’
‘Full circle,’ Volta agreed.
‘Listen,’ Jack said earnestly, ‘you’re a lot closer to him than me. What do you think? Think we got burned?’
‘I think I’m going to wait till he calls.’
‘He might not. I have a couple of other bad thoughts.’
Volta said, ‘Let’s hear them all.’
‘They may have already nailed him. Quietly, of course.’
‘It’s possible. But they either don’t know what they have, or the sudden excitement around the tunnel is a ruse.’
‘Or maybe Shamus found him. If our information is good, he’s been looking.’
‘I know, but Shamus would’ve had to get extremely lucky, or one of us in close betrayed him.’
Smiling Jack sighed. ‘So, you wait for a call. What about the rest of us?’
‘Get some sleep. In the morning, pick up Jean in Alamogordo. Chisholm Smith and Davy will be with him. Try to find out what happened in the vault and what the CIA is going to do about it. I imagine whatever they do will be done quietly – no APBs or sweeps involving state and local law. Probably a few hundred of their own agents, all with no idea who they’re looking for. If nothing else, we’ll find out how they handle such a problem. You know where help is if you need it.’
‘And you’ll wait for him to call?’
‘He’ll call. We might not like what he has to say, but he’ll call.’
THE THERAPEUTIC JOURNALS OF JENNIFER RAINE APRIL 1
My name is Jennifer Raine, Emily Snow, Wanda Zero, Zephyr Marx, April Fulsome, Annabelle Lee. I have a private unpadded room here with dull green walls, a radio, and all the Thorazine I can eat. I don’t like Thorazine. It makes me feel like a package of frozen broccoli in the supermarket. That’s why they put me here. Or perhaps I should say that’s way I took off my clothes in the Safeway and destroyed a few aisles of alleged food. I had to. I could have gone over into lightning. It’s all packaging, you see.
I do have to say this is the best of all the hospitals I’ve been in, especially since it’s for my own good.
Doc, you’ve got to learn to take a joke. It was an April Fools’ joke when I said in answer to your question, nothing particularly painful happened when I was eleven except maybe getting raped by the North Bay High football team right after my older brother hung himself in the garage wearing my panties. I expected you to laugh when I said April Fool. I didn’t realize you had all that repressed anger and hostility. Don’t you think I know that you can’t help me if I won’t help myself? Why else would I joke with you? Though I appreciate your efforts, I don’t need help. I need time. Time and space and a few breaks, Doc, that’s what I need.