Conspiracy Theory(116)

There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the door and then it was pulled inward. Tibor stood in the doorway in a pair of black trousers, a white shirt, a tie, and an expensive, thick cotton sweater that looked both very new and very orange. Gregor raised his eyebrows. Tibor shrugged.

“Bennis sent for it for me from Land’s End,” he said carefully. “She thinks I do not have enough clothes. She thinks the clothes I have are too depressing. Come in, Krekor. I have been trying to pay attention to blueprints.”

Gregor went in. The apartment looked the way it always looked. Tibor was not doing much in the way of redecorating it for his stay. The papier-mâché models of Zed and Zedalia had been taken off the end tables in the living room. The coffee table had been cleaned of trays and now held only a single cup of coffee and a small plate of butter cookies. They looked like very good butter cookies. Gregor had to restrain himself from taking one.

“I thought I’d come along and get you to go to the Ararat for dinner with me,” he said. “Bennis is missing in action, I have no idea where. And you’ve barely been to the Ararat since the explosion. Maybe I think you’re depressed.”

“I have only been to the Ararat once or twice,” Tibor said. “I find it difficult to walk by the church. I try to look on the positive side, as Bennis tells me to. We’ll have a new church. I’ll have a new apartment. And this church will be built just for us. It will not be something we take over from somebody else. Still. I have made arrangements today for preserving the icons.”

“Are they the kind of icons that should be preserved? I have no idea where Orthodox churches get their icons. I supposed I always half-thought that there were factories someplace.”

“I don’t think so, Krekor, no. And especially not a hundred years ago, when Holy Trinity was first built. They would have had to send for them to Greece, to be painted by artists who specialized only in icons. There are still such artists now, but perhaps there are factories too. I was thinking that the people who first built this church worked very hard to have the icons here, and we should not destroy them, or put them in storage where nobody can see them. Isn’t it too early for the Ararat?”

“A little.” Gregor took a seat on one of the big black leather chairs. “I thought I’d ask you about something first, if you’re up for it.”

“About something that has to do with the investigation? Because if so, Krekor, I will not be of a great help. I went to Adelphos House. I stopped at that man’s newsstand and bought something. I walked down the street to the Ararat to get coffee and the building exploded behind me. If I had had any kind of real information, I would have told you about it long ago. I know what to worry about. Did I see any unusual person around the church at any time in the month or so before the bombing? No, I did not. Did I see any unusual person around the church on the day of the bombing? No, I did not. Did I see any unusual person—”

“That’s all right,” Gregor said. “I’m not worried about your seeing unusual people. It’s a theory I wanted to ask you about. Or maybe you could get on the Internet and ask the people at RAM.”

“You want to know which mystery novels to read when you take your vacation?”

“I didn’t think RAM ever discussed mystery novels,” Gregor said. “Last time I checked into there, you were all discussing the War on Terrorism and responses to September eleventh.”

“Everybody was discussing that then. Grace’s harpsichord newsgroup was discussing that then. Now we are discussing formula in crime fiction. It’s very interesting.”

“I’m sure,” Gregor said. “I want to discuss One World Government.”

“Oh,” Tibor said. “Please no, Krekor. It gives me a headache. The people who are always harping on it give me an even bigger headache.”

“There are people who harp on it on RAM?

“One or two.”

“Anybody named Kathi Mittendorf? Or Susan—wait, I’m going to have to look up the last name—”

“Don’t bother,” Tibor said. “There were no women. Only men.”

“How about Michael Harridan?”

“Pfft,” Tibor said. “What do you take me for? If I had seen that name on RAM pushing conspiracy theories, I would have told you about it. But no. These were just two, maybe one and a half—they would get on and talk about satanic ritual abuse, and how the FBI was covering up this abuse of children. And for a while I tried to check that out, Krekor, because of course you never know. It is not a good thing to trust government agencies. But it turned out to be craziness. The FBI keeps numbers on all the missing children. There are only a hundred or so a year who are not accounted for. The files are all open and public knowledge. And when you say that to these people, the ones who have the conspiracy theories, they say that the infants who are killed in sacrifices are not recorded anywhere because they have been born especially for this and their births have not been registered. It is a truly crazy thing, Krekor.”