“At the moment, we’ve got practically every cop in the city and four of the townships working on the Tony Ross murder, or guarding somebody or something connected to the Tony Ross murder. I know that sounds unfair to you, but under the circumstances it makes sense. I don’t know if you realize it, but the first lady of the United States was in a car not more than a mile from Ross’s front gate when the shooting started. Another five minutes, and the place would have been lousy with secret service officers.”
“And the shooting would never have happened,” Bennis said.
“Not necessarily,” John said. “Considering how cleanly whoever it was got away, what might have happened was a couple of more people dead. That is, assuming this turns out to be politically motivated, or domestic terrorism, which is what the FBI thinks it’s going to be when they finally get it figured out.”
“Do you agree?” Gregor asked.
John shrugged. “It seems likely. That had to be a professional, the guy who got Ross. That whole thing was just too damned clean for it to have been anything else.”
“There’s always dumb luck,” Gregor said.
“Not often. And not right between the eyes,” John said.
Bennis looked away. “Do you notice what happens? Whenever anybody starts talking about the church, they end up talking about Tony Ross. Even we do it.”
“I thought domestic terrorism meant homemade bombs and the militias,” Gregor said. “That doesn’t sound professional.”
“Things have changed a lot since your day,” John said. “Lots of the guys in the militias are ex-military and lots of them are good at what they do. God only knows they can buy whatever they want in terms of weapons and ammunition.”
“So what happened to the church?” Bennis said.
Linda Melajian came back. Bennis ordered fruit and cheese. John Jackman ordered fruit and cheese. Gregor ordered three scrambled eggs, a side of hash browns, a side of sausage, and some buttered toast.
“Still suicidal, I see,” John said.
Bennis waved it away. “What about the church?” she said. “You’ve had four days, you disappeared after two, there’s a big hole in the street, there must be something—”
“There is something.” Jackman pulled a small notebook out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “First, it was a small bomb—”
“Small?” Bennis said.
“Very small,” John said. “Bennis, if that had been a bomb of any significant size, it would have taken down the whole church and the buildings next to it and destabilized all three blocks. It doesn’t take much. That’s why they’ve got all that special architecture in California to handle even tiny earthquakes.”
“So what kind of a bomb are we talking about?” Gregor said. “Dynamite? Remote-controlled? What?”
“We think, from what we got out of the rubble, that there were three small pipe bombs. Very small. Plastic explosives, the kind you can pick up on the black market for cheap. Nothing particularly fancy. This, by the way, is the kind of thing most people associate with the militias. Somebody could store the materials for this kind of thing in their basement, and nobody would know a thing about it. That’s just what the militias do, really. They’ve got their stuff stashed in basements, in rec rooms, in the backs of SUVs.”
“But why would a militia want to blow up Holy Trinity Church?” Bennis asked. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? They blow up government buildings, and that kind of thing.”
“I’m not saying it was a militia,” John Jackman said. “I’m just saying the method used corresponds to what we used to associate militias with, oh, maybe ten or fifteen years ago. What interests me, and what interests the police in Bryn Mawr, are the connections.”
“The connections between what?” Gregor asked.
“Between the bombing here and the murder of Tony Ross.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Bennis said. “You can’t honestly tell me that just because I was at that party and Gregor came with me and we both live on Cavanaugh Street that somebody went around killing Tony Ross and blowing up Holy Trinity Church on the same night to, to—to do what? What would be the point?”
“I have no idea what the point would be,” John said, “I’m just letting you know what’s going on. And it’s more than that you and Gregor were at that party. It’s what Father Tibor was doing the night of the explosion. He was at Adelphos House. Do you know about Adelphos House?”
“Of course I do,” Bennis said. “It’s an outreach house for child prostitutes. The church is involved in some kind of volunteer thing with them, or it was going to be. Are you trying to tell me that Tony Ross was seeing child prostitutes?”