The Madness of Mercury (11 page)

He answered on the first ring. “I think I know who’s behind your nasty emails.”

“I think I do too, and they staged a march around my building today on top of everything else.” I decided not to tell Don about the man in the ski mask. He’d hound me until I made a police report, even though both of us would know it wouldn’t do any good.

“Did you call the cops?”

“My neighbor did, but my client was afraid to ring my bell. I had to rush to the Eye to meet her.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, Julia.”

“When I got there, a similar bunch had been picketing the shop and passing out leaflets. Scared the customers away. Gale’s called a meeting. I think she plans to look into getting a restraining order against them.”

“Well, at this point you may know more than me, but this Prophet guy and his followers have targeted other people. I did a little research. He started his so-called ministry about five years ago. He has a nonprofit organization based in Louisiana and has applied for the same tax status in California. And his legal name is Royal Earl Potter.”

“What kind of a minister preaches hate?”

“That’s just it, Julia. He doesn’t. He preaches ‘love’ and ‘compassion,’ if you can believe that. He’s well connected to local charities and politicians, runs a soup kitchen for the homeless, set up some shelters. He has a big following. He carries on about sin a lot, but hey, what else would you expect, he’s a preacher.”

“So it all depends on how he defines sin,” I replied sarcastically. I love California and I love the tolerance of people in San Francisco. The city certainly has its share of oddballs, but most people live and let live.

“You be extra careful. This guy’s either a con or a megalomaniac. He may or may not believe what he preaches, but I think he’ll use anything to gain a power base. He’s appealing to elements of the population that feel disenfranchised. And they could turn violent. I’ll keep digging and see what I can turn up. By the way, don’t delete any emails, and like I told you, keep a log of the calls.”

“I’ll be damned if they’re going to intimidate me.”
Brave words
, I thought. “My problem is that I can’t have clients coming here and dealing with this. It’ll wreck my business.”

“I hear that. Just be careful. Call me if you have any more trouble. I’m only fifteen minutes away.”

“Thanks, Don. Really. That means a lot.”

I hung up. I was angry now, really angry, the more I thought about the monster hiding in my car. I grabbed a large pad of paper and forced myself to replay the three hangups, making evil faces at the machine each time I heard heavy breathing. I listened to the last message from Ermie more carefully. She was letting me know that my downstairs neighbors had complained to her. Now I regretted not checking my machine during the day and getting back to her. Hopefully she wouldn’t think I’d been deliberately avoiding her.

After noting the time of each of the hangups, I kicked off my shoes and headed to the kitchen. I poured myself a generous glass of wine, turned up the heater, and arranged my new candles on the fireplace mantel while debating whether to hang my wreath at the front door or inside the house. I opted for hanging it over the fireplace, where the smell of pine would permeate the apartment. I hauled down the large picture over the mantel, slid it into the hallway closet, and hooked the wreath on the same nail. It worked perfectly. I propped my feet on the ottoman as Wizard ambled over and climbed on my lap, purring contentedly. I was too tired and shaken to even think about lighting a fire. I finished my wine and, picking Wizard up, headed down the hall to the bedroom.

The phone rang as I passed by the office. I tensed. Then I thought perhaps Ann was home and trying to reach me. I looked at the display and saw Gale’s cell number. I grabbed it immediately.

“Thank God you’re there.” She sounded very shaky.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m at the Eye. Something very strange just happened. I heard a knock at the back door. I thought it might be you.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. I closed up and sent Cheryl home. When I opened the door … oh God, Julia. Someone left a dead cat on the doorstep.”

I cringed. “I’ll be right there.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t need to come. I wrapped it up and put it in plastic in the dumpster. It looked like its neck had been broken.”

“Don’t argue. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Less than that.”

T
EN

I
DROVE THE LENGTH
of California Street as fast as I could, slowing at each red light. Once I was sure no other cars were crossing, I ran through several intersections. Gale might be safe for now, but someone definitely wanted to send a message. When I reached the Eye, the shop was closed but the display lights were on in the front windows. I pulled down the alleyway and parked next to Gale’s car, then tapped on the door. “Gale, it’s me.”

She opened the door immediately. The storeroom was dark. A stack of empty boxes and packing materials stood against the wall. Inside, the only light was a small desk lamp in the office.

Gale is tall and self-assured, with a regal bearing. Tonight she was completely shaken. She hugged her arms, more from fright than from cold. “I feel bad now that I’ve called you. I was just so freaked out. I recognized the cat—it was the little gray one that hangs out behind the apartment building next door. I think it’s a stray. Everyone around here feeds it, even the restaurant people, and it’s such a friendly little thing. Some sick bastard probably gave it some food and then snapped its neck. God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Shouldn’t you call the cops?”

“And tell them what? I found a dead cat? Please. Like they’d listen. Even if they thought someone had killed it, what could they do?”

“It shows a pattern of harassment. Might be worth making a report.”

She sighed. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I just wasn’t thinking straight. I was so upset.” She collapsed in the chair behind her desk.

I shrugged out of my coat. “Why are you here so late?”

“We just got a huge shipment of books and supplies in. Cheryl’s been working late every night, so I sent her home. I’d just finished stacking the boxes in the storeroom”—she shivered involuntarily—“when this … ” She stopped in mid-sentence.

“What?”

“What’s that on your neck?” She came close and touched the spot on my neck where the attacker’s knife had left a small mark. “What happened, Julia?”

I recounted the incident in the parking garage.

“Dear God. We’ve got to call the police.”

“No.”

“What? Why? You were physically attacked and threatened!”

“I know, but it’s not going to do a damn thing except waste my time. Just like the cat. You know I’m right.”

“I’ll have to tell Cheryl. If they did this to you, we’re all in danger.”

“Maybe not. Maybe just me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“My column reaches a lot of people. I’m more of a threat. And I’m wondering if the Prophet’s image isn’t a lot of crap. Don told me he preaches love and compassion and good works and all that stuff, but that doesn’t jive with what we’re all experiencing. Gale, there’s a much bigger game here. I’m just not sure yet what it is.”

“Whatever he’s preaching, it doesn’t look like any version of love and compassion to me,” Gale said bitterly. “Look, let’s get out of here. Have you eaten? Why don’t we go up the block and grab some food? Actually, a drink sounds even better.”

“Okay.”

“Get your coat. We can leave the cars here and walk. I’ll just get my purse.”

I headed to the front door and checked that the locks were all in place. The drapes separating the display windows from the shop were drawn for privacy. Gale left the desk lamp on in the office and walked out to the front counter. As she reached under the counter for her purse, we heard glass breaking.

For a split second, I thought she’d knocked something over. Then I saw a flash of flame through the doorway to the back storeroom.

I screamed. Gale straightened quickly, looking confused. I ran back to the office and grabbed my coat. The empty boxes and packing materials had caught fire in an explosive flash. The smoke alarm started to ring, filling the shop with earsplitting sound. Using my coat like a blanket, I dropped it over the center of the flaming pile. It wasn’t enough, but I had to do something before the entire storeroom went up, if not the entire building. My coat was heavy enough to cut off the oxygen from the center of the fire, but not large enough to contain it all.

Gale shouted behind me, “Julia, get out of the way.” She was holding a large red fire extinguisher. She pulled the metal ring and aimed it at the pile of cardboard and paper that continued to blaze around my coat. “There’s another one in the office. Grab it!” she shouted.

I ran back. I found a fire extinguisher in the closet as large as the one Gale held and rushed back. She’d managed to extinguish most of the blaze, but some hot spots were still visible. I aimed the chemical at the edges of the fire, moving toward the center until I was sure the danger had passed. Once the blaze had been extinguished, we stood there, breathless.

Gale turned to me. “Are you hurt? Any burns?”

I shook my head. “Don’t think so. My coat’s gone, but that’s no great loss.”

“If you hadn’t been here, Julia … ” Gale wiped her face and dropped the extinguisher to the floor. I’m calling the police and the fire department.” She turned and headed for the office.

I hit the main light switch for the rear storeroom and looked around. Most of the stock was undamaged and still neatly stacked on shelves. With the exception of the boxes recently emptied, very little loose material was in evidence. The smoke alarm continued to scream. The noise was earsplitting. Without a full-sized ladder I had no way to turn it off. I rummaged through the shelves and finally spotted a small fan. I plugged it in and unlocked the back door, hoping to clear the air in the room. In a moment of caution, I picked up a hunk of wood left over from past shelving work and, holding it like a baseball bat, opened the back door. If anyone was still around intending to harm us, I had a weapon and I would use it.

I stepped outside and looked around cautiously. Not a soul. The only light came from the storeroom behind me and the back doors of the restaurants on Columbus. I stepped back inside and aimed the fan at the doorway. After a few minutes, the alarm subsided. By then, I heard approaching sirens.

Gale met the police and firefighters on the sidewalk. Traffic was in chaos—the fire trucks blocked Broadway. A black-and-white pulled up behind them and an officer climbed out and began to direct traffic around the fire trucks. A crowd had already gathered on the sidewalk. Everyone was talking excitedly and shouting questions. Some of them were in nightclothes and wrapped in blankets, frightened residents of the apartments above the shop.

Gale’s voice was raised. “They tried to firebomb my shop!”

“Ma’am, let’s go inside. We’ll need to check the damage.”

I pulled open the front door and held it for the firefighters. They formed a single line behind Gale, who led them to the rear.

An additional man in plain clothes had joined the group. “Did you see who did this?” he asked me.

“No. My friend and I were just getting ready to leave by the back door when it happened. They smashed the glass window and then next thing we knew, we heard a whoosh and saw the flames.”

Gale chimed in. “I didn’t see who did this, but I
know
who’s behind it. We filed a police report for harassment earlier today. It’s those freaks from the Prophet’s Tabernacle, that’s who’s responsible.”

“Ma’am … ” They were obviously trying to calm her down.

Gale is intimidating even when she’s not angry. Right now, she was very angry. “Don’t ma’am me! I want you to do something about it. I want you to roust them out of that temple or whatever the hell they call it up on Mason and arrest them.”

“We can check that out and question those people, but odds are the place is locked up for the night.” The detective turned to me. “Unless you saw someone, or have some evidence … ” He trailed off.

“No. I didn’t see them. I was inside and a damn good thing too!” Gale’s voice was rising. “If we hadn’t been here, that entire stock room would have gone up in a few minutes, and half the city block as well. This is a major crime. Arson is a felony, isn’t it? People could have died here. I’m calling my lawyer and I’m going to the DA if you won’t do anything.”