Valediction Read Free Page A

corner of the room next to the record player. The dancers lounged around smoking and drinking coffee and stretching.
    "How much has Paul filled you in," Banks said.
    "Just that one of your dancers is missing and you want me to find her."
    "Well"-Banks made a tight half smile-"that's the essence of it, isn't it."
    I nodded.
    "She's more than missing," Banks said. "She's been taken."
    Paul looked startled. I nodded again. "She's been taken by the Bullies."
    Paul looked more startled. "The religious group?" I said.
    "Yes," Banks said. "The Reorganized Church of the Redemption. You know about it, I assume."
    "I know that it exists, that its leader, pope, chief wizard, whatever they call him, is a guy named Bullard Winston who believes in the church militant."
    "Yes," Banks said. "They've taken Sherry."
    "By force?"
    "Yes."
    "You didn't tell me that," I said to Paul.
    "I didn't know it," Paul said.
    "They broke in," Banks said, "five of them, three men, two women, in berets and fatigue clothes. They had automatic weapons. One of them hit me with the butt of the weapon and knocked me down. I was half conscious. They grabbed Sherry, bound her, and took her away. I was able to get to the door in time to see them put her into the trunk of a car and drive away. Then I passed out."
    "And you didn't call the cops," I said. Banks shook his head. "I-I woke up and didn't know what to do and . . . I just walked around all night and came in the next day and said Sherry was missing."
    "Why no cops?"
    "I didn't want this turned into a media circus like Patty Hearst."
    I didn't say anything. Paul was quiet, standing a little to the side.
    "And . . . I didn't. . . you know how Patty Hearst's fiance was treated in the press."
    I nodded.
    "I was ashamed," he said. "I was ashamed that they were able to take her away from me and I didn't stop them."
    "Five people with automatic weapons," I said. "Hard to stop."
    "I could have died trying."
    "I'm not sure we'd be better off," I said.
    Banks shook his head as if he were trying to shake something off. "Well, anyway. The company has chipped in and I have a bit of money, and we wish to hire you to find her."
    "Okay," I said. "I'll need her picture." Banks went to get it. I looked at Paul. Paul shrugged. Banks came back with a manila folder in which was a publicity picture of a young woman and a typed resume, and a handwritten description on white paper lined with blue. I looked at it. Her name was Sherry Spellman and she was twenty years old.
    "She have much contact with the Bullies before," I said.
    "Oh, hell," Banks said, "she had a little, ah, flirtation I suppose you'd say, while she was in college, but . . ." He shook his head and made a dismissing shrug. I looked back down at her resume. She'd gone one year to Bard College, leaving two years ago. She'd been with Banks a year.
    "No calls," I said, "no ransom notes?" Banks shook his head.
    "Why did they take her?" I said.
    "To make her one of them," Banks said. "We can't let them do that."
    "No," I said. "I guess we can't."

CHAPTER 7

    I called Martin Quirk at police headquarters and got the name of a priest who consulted to the department on oddball cults and religions.
    "Named Keneally," Quirk said. "Professor of Comparative Religion at B.C. Use my name."
    It had been a while since I'd been in my office. It was stuffy, and the warm city air coming through the open windows wasn't doing much to freshen it up. I looked out the window. The dark-haired art director in the ad agency across the street was conferring over her board with two colleagues. Too busy to look in my window. Probably resigning. Probably going to take a job in Miami doing bilingual dope ads.
    I called up Wayne Cosgrove at the Globe. "Who's your dance critic," I said.
    "Nancy Quentin," he said.
    "Would you speak to her about me and tell her I'll call her and invite her to lunch."
    "You seen Nancy?" Wayne said.
    "Business," I said. "I need some dance information."
    "Okay. Her extension