“No, of course you wouldn’t have, but you didn’t love him, Julia. What you felt was immense gratitude toward him, not a passionate, full-bodied love, the sort of love a young woman would heap on a man who’d caught her heart, no, you cannot say that, not with any honesty. But gratitude, you overflowed with gratitude since August joined you to your dead son, provided you comfort in your time of need.”
Julia, Cheney saw, looked shell-shocked. She nearly tipped off the huge silk pillow. Then she stared straight ahead, as if unable to move. She said finally, “I know August didn’t tell you about Linc. He wouldn’t. It would be a betrayal of me. How do you know Linc died? How do you know August was there with me?” Soldan Meissen gave an elaborate shrug. The crimson robe nearly fell off one thin shoulder. “I know many things, my dear. August didn’t tell me, not exactly. I am telepathic, something August accepted, though it frustrated him that he was unable to channel that power within himself.”
“Or you did a bit of Googling,” Cheney said, eyebrow arched. Ancilla gave Cheney a dirty look.
Julia said, “Did August ever try to connect with you telepathically, Soldan?”
Soldan nodded, gave a dainty cough behind a narrow hand that sported three plain gold bands on his fingers. “Yes, of course, but he couldn’t connect to me. As I said, he didn’t have that particular ability. It was all by chance that I happened to wander into his mind when he was thinking about your boy. I removed myself immediately. I never said anything about it to him. Agent Stone, I would not stoop to Googling to find out a person’s secrets. I am psychic, nothing less than that, I assure you.”
Cheney said, “And did it come to you that Kathryn Golden was abducted today?”
“No, it did not, I regret to say. Perhaps if it had I could have done something. I did, however, see the special report on television. My poor Kathryn—all beautiful breasts and a lovely mind, two exceptional attributes in a psychic,” Soldan said. “Ancilla, I know you dislike Kathryn, but there is no reason for you to. Please bring me a cup of oolong. My Asian delight makes my throat dry.”
Ancilla, a huff in every step, left the room, her mules slapping on the tiles.
“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with Kathryn’s abduction?” Cheney asked him.
Soldan said nothing, merely frowned after Ancilla. “I told her to wear soft-soled shoes. I dislike the noise, but she said her footwear was none of my business. Can you imagine that?”
“Why don’t you zap her with a single bloody thought?” Cheney asked.
“When I become God perhaps I will be more inclined to smite down those who deserve it,” Soldan said, and even gave Cheney a full-bodied smile, showing a gold molar. “I am thinking that when this occurs, Agent Stone, your torments will begin.”
Julia said, “Soldan, when did you last see Kathryn Golden? You’ve known her for a long time, haven’t you?”
“Certainly, but it’s been some time since we’ve seen each other. The three of them—since August was killed, they formed this precious little clique—Bevlin, Wallace, and Kathryn. Too good for me, the frauds. The report on the television said she was possibly abducted by this man, Makepeace, the man who wants to kill you, my dear Julia. I can’t imagine why he’d want that lovely albatross around his neck. What on earth good would Kathryn Golden be to anyone?”
“Maybe Makepeace wants his own psychic,” Cheney said.
“Ha, Agent Stone.”
Julia said, “Do you know, Soldan, it seems that all four of you, even the three you seem to dislike so much, you all adored August. Why is that?”
“How can you ask that, Julia? You knew his powers firsthand. You saw how he brought comfort and enlightenment to so many disillusioned souls floundering in pain. He simply radiated goodness and peace.”
Cheney asked, “Did you ever see or read Dr. Ransom’s journals?”
“Oh no, that wouldn’t ever do,” Soldan said, and puffed.
“Kathryn also mentioned August’s journals,” Julia said, frowning, “but I never saw them, never even knew about them. I certainly never found them when I was going through August’s things.”
“Such a pity. Ah, my oolong. I trust it has only one Splenda in it?”
“Of course, Sol.”
“Thank you, Ancilla.”
He carefully set his hookah pipe on a small dish and sipped his tea. Then he took two more sips and sighed in pleasure. He looked at them. “I have told you as much as I can. I have been as honest with yon as I can. I will ask you to leave now. I must have my rest.”