never get rid of them.”
“We won’t get rid of them. That’s what I’m trying to tell
you. They’re trying to take over the city. The guy who runs
it is a piece of shit. He’s this big fire-and-brimstone preacher,
and he wants to make sodomy a federal crime, outlaw strip
clubs and pornography in every form, ban public schools from
teaching evolution, and make having an abortion punishable
by jail time. Also, they hate Catholics. They think the pope
is the Antichrist.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Kingsley asked. “I
mean, other than you’re a feminist, he’s a Catholic priest and
sodomy’s my favorite hobby?”
“You are not listening to me,” Blaise said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. “The governor of New York is Reverend Fuller’s best friend. His wife and the mayor’s wife go
shopping together. This guy even says the opening prayer at all
the state functions in Albany. The church is rich, it’s powerful and it wants to take all our freedoms away. Reverend Fuller’s
like an evil Billy Graham on acid, and we have to stop him.” “I met Reverend Graham once,” S?ren said, putting his feet
up on Kingsley’s desk. “A good man. I’m currently trying to
imagine him on acid. Makes for quite a thought experiment.” But Kingsley wasn’t listening. He was staring…studying…
gazing…seeing…
There it was. Right there.
Kingsley reached into his desk and pulled out a bundle of
cash bound with a paper band.
“Here,” he said, handing the money to Blaise and removing his glasses.
Blaise threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on
the cheek.
“Merci, monsieur,” she said. “I promise I will earn every
penny of this in bed tonight. And tomorrow night. And the
night after…”
“Consider it a finder’s fee,” Kingsley said.
“For what?”
“For this.” He held up the newspaper to display the blackand-white photograph. “I found our club.”
Kingsley was gratified to see S?ren’s eyes widen. “What is it?” Blaise asked.
“This church bought a five-story condemned hotel from
the city,” Kingsley said. “The paper says they’re turning it
into their new church headquarters. It has a ballroom, a bar
and fifty hotel rooms. Complete with attached parking garage. This is our club.”
“You intend to buy that building for your club?” S?ren
asked, sounding dubious.
“Fuck, yes, I do,” Kingsley said.
“Are you serious?” Blaise asked. She sounded awed and
aroused. He could probably talk Blaise into submitting to anal sex tonight—lots of it. He should go on anti-church crusades
more often.
“Deadly serious,” Kingsley said. He couldn’t stop staring
at the picture in the paper. It looked like everything he’d
dreamed right before his eyes. He hadn’t felt this sense of destiny, this rightness about what he was doing since the day he
first laid eyes on seventeen-year-old S?ren sitting behind a
piano in a chapel in Maine twelve years ago. The hotel was his.
It belonged to him. And he could shut down a toxic church
in the bargain—killing two birds with one f logger. “But the sale already went through,” Blaise said. “The
church owns the building now.”
“I don’t care. I’ll buy it from them or steal it from them.
But I need to know more about this church before I try either. You know them?” he asked S?ren.
“I have heard of them,” S?ren said. “What I’ve heard certainly gives me pause. The church is politically active—a fullf ledged member of the Religious Right. I’m a firm believer in
the separation of church and state. Better for the state. Better
for the church. Better for everyone. This particular ministry