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"I thought it was wilderness."
"Mostly it is. The folks you see here probably won"t get more than a couple of hundred yards from their vehicles all the time they"re away. There"s a highway circuits the Peninsula, but almost no roads at all in the National Park itself. Here, I brought a map."
It was the map the National Park Service handed out to visitors. As Clancy had said, there were almost no roads inside the park, just a lot of trails and a few unpaved tracks.
The one good road I could see led to the summit of Hurricane Ridge. We were headed west of there, to Lake Crescent. Clancy pointed it out on the map. Outside the National Park boundaries, the rest of the peninsula was considered National Forest. The National Park ended just north of Lake Crescent.
"See, what Provost did, he took over a house that was already there. They"re very cautious about new building inside the park, but there"s nothing they can do about homes that were there before the area was designated a National Park. He didn"t have too much trouble getting permission to add a few log cabins of the same style. He even had the timber treated so it looked weathered."
T bet he"s kind to dumb animals too."
We were part of a slow-moving stream coming off the ferry. There were backpackers trying to hitch a ride with anyone who"d take them. Bel smiled at them and shrugged her shoulders. Everybody took the same road out of Bremerton along the southern sh.o.r.e of Hood Ca.n.a.l. There were no stopping places, other than pulling into someone"s drive, so Clancy just pointed out Nathan"s house to us as we pa.s.sed. It had a low front hedge, a large neatly cut lawn, and was itself low and rectangular, almost like a scale model rather than a real house, such was its perfection. Beyond it we could see the ca.n.a.l itself, in reality an inlet carved into the land like a reverse J. We kept along Hood Ca.n.a.l for a long time, then headed west towards Port Angeles.
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"From what I"ve heard," said Clancy, "as well as what I"ve seen today, I think our first priority should be to find a campsite."
He was right. Fairholm was the closest campsite to the Disciples" headquarters, but by the time we got there it was already full. We retraced our route and called in at Lake Crescent Lodge, but it was fully booked. So then we"d to head north towards the coast where, at Lyre River, we found a campground with s.p.a.ces. It was less than a mile from the Strait of Juan de Fuca, beyond which lay Vancouver Island, Canadian soil. The air was incredible, intoxicating and vibrant. You felt n.o.body"d ever breathed it before. It wasn"t city air, that was for sure.
Clancy had been telling us that there was bad feeling in the Pacific north west about logging. A lot of loggers were losing their jobs, a lot of logging towns were going broke.
They"d asked if they could go into the National Forest and "tidy up" fallen trees, but this request had been rejected.
There were other forests they couldn"t touch because of a protected species of owl. They were getting desperate.
"One man"s paradise ..." I said.
At the campground, there was a box full of envelopes. We put our fee in the envelope and pushed it through the posting slot. Then we stuck our receipt in a little display case on a post next to our own little site.
"Isn"t this cosy?" I said. Bel looked dubious. She"d been sleeping in too many real beds recently to relish a night under the stars. It was about fifteen miles from here to the Disciples" HQ, so we pitched our tents. Or rather, Clancy and I pitched the tents while Bel walked by the river and chatted to a few other campers. Then, happy with the state of our accommodations, we got back in the car and headed off. We were on the wrong side of Lake Crescent, as we soon found.
No road went all the way around the lake. The main road went round the south, and to the north it was half unpaved road and half trail. We were the trail end, which meant we 303.
couldn"t take the car anywhere near the Disciples without going all the way around the lake and heading in towards them from the west along the unpaved road. We took the car to the trail-head past Piedmont and got out to think. It looked like it was about a three-mile walk. Driving around the lake might save a mile of walking.
"Well," I said, "we might as well get our money"s worth from all this gear we"ve brought."
So we got ourselves made up to look like hikers, Clancy carrying the only rucksack we"d need, and I locked the car.
"You"re not carrying heat?" he inquired.
"You"ve been watching too many gangster flicks."
"But are you or aren"t you?"
"No."
"Good."
We walked for about half a mile, till Bel suddenly stopped.
I asked what was wrong. She was looking all around her.
"This," she said, "is the most beautiful place I"ve ever been.
Listen: nothing. Look, not a soul around."
She"d barely got these words out when a party of three walkers emerged on the trail ahead of us. They nodded a greeting as they pa.s.sed. They hadn"t spoilt things at all for Bel. She looked the way I"d seen girls in my youth when they were stoned at parties. She was an unfocused, all- encompa.s.sing smile.
"It"s the lack of toxins in the atmosphere," Clancy explained. "If your system isn"t used to it, weird things start to happen."
We walked on, and she caught us up. Clancy had the map.
"There"s a picnic area at North Sh.o.r.e," he said, "but we"ll see the cabins before that. They"re between this trail and the one leading up Pyramid Mountain."
We came upon them sooner than expected. It was a bit like the set-up at Oban, but a lot less obtrusive. No signs or fences or barriers, except that the very existence of the 304.
cabins, here where there should be nothing, was a barrier in itself. I couldn"t see the Disciples getting many casual visitors.
"So what do we do now?" Bel said.
"We keep walking," I told her. "We"re just out for a hike.
We"ll soon be at North Sh.o.r.e. We"ll have our picnic and we"ll talk. Just now, we"re walking."
But from the corner of my eye I was taking in the cabins, the small vegetable plot, the boat on its trailer. I couldn"t see any signs of life, and no cars, no pick-ups or vans. No smoke, but then the cabins didn"t have chimneys, with the exception of what I took to be the original structure, slightly larger than the others. Instead, there were solar panels on the roofs, and a couple more on the ground. There was plenty of tree and bush cover around the cabins, and no sign of any pets. I wasn"t even sure you were allowed to keep pets inside the park.
There were boats out on Lake Crescent. They looked like they"d come from Lake Crescent Lodge. I could see fathers wrestling with the oars while spouses caught the antics on video and the children rocked the boat further to discomfit "pop". We sat down at the picnic site and gazed out over the lake.
"It is beautiful," said Bel.
"Almost as pretty as a baseball game," Clancy agreed. Bel ignored him.
"So that was it?" I said.
"That was it."
"I was expecting more."
"The Disciples are small-time, Mike. I could show you a dozen cults bigger than them in the US, including the cult of the Sainted Elvis. They"re not big, they"re just rich and obsessed with their privacy."
Bel turned away from the view. She had been bitten already, and sprayed more gunk on her bare arms. I"d bought a dark blue baseball cap at Archie"s, and was now 305.
glad of it. The sun beat down with a sizzling intensity.Clancy opened the cooler and handed out beers.
"So now we go and knock at their door," said Bel, "ask them what the h.e.l.l they were doing murdering my father?"
"Maybe not straight away," I cautioned.
"But I thought that was the whole point?"
"The point is to play safe. Sam, have you ever heard of anyone leaving the Disciples?"
He shook his head and sucked foam from the can. "That was my first line of inquiry. If you"d been a real reporter, it"s about the first thing you"d"ve asked me. I was desperate to find someone with inside info, but I never found a soul."
"Ever talk to any existing members?"
"Oh, yes, lots of times. I"d strike up conversations with them when they went into Port Angeles for supplies. I have to tell you, those were very one-sided conversations.
Hamlet"s soliloquies were shorter than mine. I got snippets, nothing more."
Bel was sorting out the food. We had ham, crackers, cold sausage and potato chips.
"Bel," I said, "how"s your acting?"
"I think I played a policewoman pretty well."
"How about playing a very stupid person?"
She shrugged. "It"d be a challenge. What sort of stupid person did you have in mind?"
"One who"s on vacation and has gone for a walk on her own. And she comes across these cabins and thinks they must be a restaurant or something, maybe a ranger station or some souvenir shops."
Clancy was looking at me. "You"re crazy."
Bel opened a packet of chips. "Are you saying, Michael, that I"d be going in there on my own?"
"That"s what I"m saying."
"Why?"
"I think they"d suspect you less if you were on your own."
"Yes, but why do I need to go there at all?"
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"Reconnaissance. I want you to learn as much as you can about the lay-out, memorise it. Are there locks on the doors and windows? Are there any alarms or other security precautions that you can see? Any skylights, loopholes, c.h.i.n.ks in the armour?"
"You"re thinking of paying a night-time visit?"
I smiled at her and nodded. She wasn"t fazed at all by my intention. She just ate some crisps and thought about it.
"I"d have to go into the cabins," she said at last.
I shook my head. "Just the one, the main cabin. That"s the one I want to know about."
"You"re both crazy," Clancy said, gripping his beer with both hands.
Bel finished her crisps and stood up, wiping her hands on her legs. "I need a pee," she said. "I"ll see you back at the trailhead."
"We"ll be waiting."
I watched her walk away. I"d promised Max she wouldn"t be in any danger. I"d been breaking that promise time and time again.
"She"s got guts," Clancy admitted.
I nodded but didn"t say anything. Clancy couldn"t get a word out of me the rest of the makeshift meal.
We walked back along the trail quite slowly, nodding to people who pa.s.sed us. Again, we didn"t look at the cabins as we pa.s.sed within a hundred yards of them. They were built on a fairly serious slope. Slopes and night-walking did not make good companions. But if I stuck to the path by the lake, there"d be more chance of being spotted. I had a lot on my mind as we walked the rest of the route. We sat in the car for a while. Clancy switched the radio on and retuned it, and I got out and walked about a bit.
It was over an hour before we saw Bel. She was hurrying towards us, her cheeks flushed with what I took to be success. When she gave me a grinning thumbs-up, I hugged her, lifting her off the ground. Then we got back into the 307.
Rabbit and on the way back to the campsite she told us all about it.
Not that there was a whole lot to tell. She"d found a young woman first of all, who"d turned out to have studied in England for several years. So she"d wanted to ask Bel all about how England was these days, and then Bel had asked to use the toilet, and only then had she asked the woman what this place was exactly. At which she got the story and even a brief tour. Because she and the woman appeared to be friends, no one else batted an eye at first. Then a mani came up and asked who she was, and after that everything was distinctly cooler. She"d lingered over a cup of herbal tea the woman had prepared, but then had been asked politelyj but firmly by the man if she would leave.She hadn"t gotten to see the inside of the old cabin, just itsj outside. But there were no alarm boxes, and none of thej windows she"d seen had boasted anything other than the most superficial locks. There was more, and at the end of it I felt like hugging her again. Instead we celebrated back at the campsite with a meal cooked on our stove: franks and beans, washed down with black coffee. Clancy had bought a pack of filters and some real ground coffee. It smelt great and tasted good. The insects by this time were out in force, hungry for a late supper before bed.
"Oh, one other thing," Bel said. Tn a couple of days, Provost himself is visiting the HQ."
"Really?" I looked at Clancy. "Any significance?"
He shrugged. "It"s rare these days, but not exactly unknown."
"It"ll mean his house in Seattle is empty," I mused.
"Yeah, as empty as a high-security bank."
I smiled. "I get your drift."
Later, Clancy hinted at taking Bel into Port Angeles to check out the night life. They could drop me off first, then pick me up again on the way back. But Bel made a face. She 308.
just wanted to crawl into her sleeping bag with a torch, another beer, and her latest cheap paperback. I was pleased she didn"t want to go with Clancy. I sat outside with him for a while longer. He asked if I wanted him to drive me to Piedmont, but I shook my head.
"I"ll do this one alone."
When it was properly dark, I was ready.
309.
23.I drove back to Piedmont and parked a little way from the trail-head. I was wearing a camouflage jacket and dark"green combat trousers, plus hiking boots. I had the night-1scope with me. If anyone stopped me, my excuse would be jthat I was out looking for nocturnal animals, maybe the rare 1Roosevelt Elk.Firearms weren"t allowed in the park, but I had the 559with me too, fully loaded. I reckoned that, laws or not, theDisciples would have an armoury.
There was half a moon, appearing now and then from behind slow-moving clouds. The cloud cover wasn"t thick, so there was a welcome glow, and as my eyes got used to the night, I found I could pick my way forwards without falling a.r.s.e over t.i.t.
I hadn"t done much of this sort of thing before, though of course I"d recced my hits. There was silence in the camp. Bel hadn"t heard any radios or seen any TV aerials. It looked like the Disciples were early-to-bed early-to-rise types, which suited me fine. Maybe they were busy making love under their patchwork quilts.
The old original cabin faced the newer ones, so I would be at my most vulnerable if entering by the front. I looked in through the rear and side windows, but couldn"t see anyone. The windows were locked though, and I"d no tools with me. I knew Bel could have used her skill here, but no way was I going to bring her with me. In the silence, the sound of breaking gla.s.s would be like a foghorn. So I went around to the front of the cabin. Then I saw the torch. I saw the beam first, scanning the ground. Someone had left one 310.