“It may have happened that way. All I know for certain is that this is what Reichmann wants us to believe, and we’re in no position to contradict him.”
There was nothing for it now but to ask the question I dreaded to ask: “Did Reichmann tell you who was in the theater when it was destroyed?”
“He indicated that he got everyone.”
I stared at him bleakly.
“His exact words were, ‘The inner circle is gone.’”
I said, “Everyone else seems to think the theater was empty.”
Fr. Lulfre shrugged.
“Well, he missed one—me.”
He shook his head. “Jared, you know I think highly of you, but you’re not a charismatic firebrand.”
“I don’t think being a firebrand has anything to do with it.”
Again he shrugged.
“You know, I couldn’t figure out why B insisted on putting his entire schedule on hold while he dealt with me. It made even less sense after Charles’s death. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“No, frankly, I don’t. What is it that made less sense after Charles’s death?”
“Why B insisted on spending so much time with me.”
Fr. Lulfre started to tell me that he didn’t know what in the world I was talking about, then the light dawned. “You’re talking about the woman … Sharon?”
“Shirin,” I told him. “Shirin is B.”
“I thought Charles was B.”
“Charles was B, but so was Shirin.”
He shook his massive head, shooing away a bothersome fly.
“B had to spend time with me so that, even if worse came to worst, you could be told that you’ve failed.”
“You’re being far too elliptical for this old brain, Jared. If worse came to worst?”
“If you succeeded in killing both Charles and Shirin.”
“If I succeeded in killing both Charles and Shirin, then I still will have failed?”
“That’s right. Because you didn’t kill me. I’m not a charismatic firebrand, but that doesn’t matter. I am B.”
“You are B? You really believe that?”
“It’s not a matter of belief, Father. I’m no longer what I was when I sat here three and a half weeks ago—and you can’t change me back to what I was.”
Fr. Lulfre leaned forward, interested at last. “And you really think this matters, Jared? You think you’ll do something different, now that you’re B?”
“Oh yes,” I told him, getting to my feet. “There’s no question about that. That’s a certainty.”
“I’m not sure whether to scoff or to shudder, Jared. But if I had a gun in my desk, I’d take it out and shoot you dead just to be on the safe side.”
“Would you really?”