The Diviners (The Diviners #1)
Page 122Up front, a commotion broke out among a group of drunks and the officer abandoned Evie and Sam to help out. Evie grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him after her, deep into the building.
“For the record, sister, this isn’t my idea of a swell time,” Sam whispered as he and Evie sneaked through the labyrinthine corridors of the city’s notorious jail.
“How are we going to get past the guards?” Evie said. She could see a policeman sitting on a stool behind a desk, filling out paperwork.
“Leave that to me.”
“Sam,” Evie warned as they got close.
The officer looked up, and it seemed to Evie that he looked right at them. She heard Sam muttering something under his breath, prayerlike. He put up a hand as if to shield them, and the officer looked back down at his paperwork, almost as though he hadn’t seen them. It was very strange, and Evie told herself that he hadn’t really seen them after all.
“That was a stroke of luck,” she said, letting out her breath.
“Just keep walking,” Sam instructed.
They found Jacob Call sitting in a dingy room with only two chairs and a table. He wore the same coveralls and black hat as when they’d last met him. The pendant still hung from his neck. His sleeves were pushed up some, and Evie could see crude tattoos peeking out from beneath the cuffs.
Brother Call barely glanced at her. “Yep.”
“I hear you won’t tell the police anything. Why is that?”
“Won’t tell them. Won’t tell you,” he said.
“That’s a shame. I think we’d have just oodles of things to talk about. This, for instance.” Evie placed the Book of the Brethren on the table between them.
Jacob Call’s expression darkened. “Where’d you get that?”
Evie opened the book and turned the pages but didn’t offer him a glimpse. “Fascinating reading. Much better than Moby-Dick. Like this passage, for instance.”
She’d opened to the page for the eleventh offering, the Marriage of the Beast and the Woman Clothed in the Sun. She laid the book on the table and watched as Jacob Call looked on in awe.
“The ritual of the offerings. It’s begun, hasn’t it? The rise of the Beast?”
Evie’s skin crawled. She fought to keep her composure. “And the Beast comes into this world through the ritual kill—um, the offerings. Is that correct?”
Jacob Call gave a curt nod. “The world has fallen into sin. The Lord will purify it in blood through the chosen one.”
“And you are that chosen one,” Evie tried.
The man’s lip curled in contempt. “Why should I tell you? You ain’t the law or a believer. You’re just a girl.”
“Just like Ruta Badowski was a girl?” Evie snapped. She did not like Jacob Call one bit. “Tell me, did you really mail her eyes to the police as an offering to the Beast, so that he’d know you’d fulfilled the prophecy?” she bluffed.
“I-I done it. May it please the Lord.” Jacob Call wouldn’t make a very good poker player, Evie thought. In that brief, unguarded moment of surprise, he’d shown his hand—he didn’t know she was lying. He didn’t know the details of the murder.
“What about Tommy Duffy’s hands? What did you do with them?” she pressed.
Jacob Call sat stone-faced. “I’ve said all I’m a-goin’ to. I ain’t saying no more.”
Jacob Call continued to sit in silence.
“Let’s blouse, Evie,” Sam said. “I hear somebody coming down the hall.”
“It’s just darling!” Evie said, deliberately goading him. “I simply must have one for myself. Where did you get it?”
“The Lord will not be mocked!” Jacob said, glaring.
“Who said anything about mocking the Lord? I just want to know the name of your jeweler. Or perhaps you’d let me buy yours….” Evie reached out a finger as if to touch the pendant, and Jacob Call pounded his fists on the table, making her jump back.
“It’s for me and me alone! And the Lord said, ‘Anoint thy flesh and prepare ye the walls of your houses. Bind your spirit to the Holy Mark and wear it upon your person always and ye shall be protected both in this life and the hereafter. But take care that the Holy Mark be not destroyed. For then shall ye sever the tie to your spirit!’ ”