Enigma by Lloyd A. Meeker Read Free Book Online Page A

like for James to live with Leigh. What kind of relationship did they have? Her aura had lit up when she spoke of her love for her children and for the church, but was much less vigorous when she spoke of James.
    She was obviously intensely loyal and devoted to their kids. But there was something else in her, a religious fanaticism I’d first seen in my own father that neither James nor Ann displayed. That unquestioning ferocity had terrified me as a child, and Leigh’s had frightened me now. Even Howard hadn’t shown that kind of fervor. Maybe his had calmed over the years into a smoother certainty, like stones in a river.
    My cell rang. It was Kommen, more agitated than I’d ever heard him. Another letter had arrived at his office, this time with a demand for money—two cases, each with $144,000 in cash. I was to meet him there immediately. I told him I was at the Tech Center, and it would be forty minutes before I could get to his office. He hung up, and I sped up.
    A hundred and forty-four thousand: the number of the blessed in Revelation, standing with the Lamb on Mount Zion. Doubled. Enigma had a sense of humor. No, scratch that. Enigma had a marvelous sense of irony.
    * * * *
    When I got to the reception area, Colin was waiting for me. He practically dragged me into the elevator, down the hall, and into Kommen’s office. What I guessed to be the letter was the lone object on the gleaming expanse of the big desk, but Andrew Kommen was standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t turn around when Colin ushered me in and then backed out, closing the door behind him.
    “You said there would be another letter with the lyrics of that other song. You were right.” It felt odd, getting that acknowledgment from him.
    I walked to the desk and picked up the letter.
    June 15, 2009 — In honor of the approaching Solstice, REPENT!
    “Return to Innocence”
    Here it was, the famous song. Redemption, wild joy, and innocence. And then at the bottom, paydirt. Literally.
    PS — To avoid complete destruction of the Abundant Life and Gospel Ministry Church have two cases, each containing $144,000 USD in non-traceable bills at Stelnach, Kommen and Breyer, ready for delivery, at 1:00 pm on Thursday, June 18th.
    The traces of this letter’s origin were still fresh and easy to feel. A vortex of old pain, acute grief, and rage churned through me. I immediately recognized that particular blend of misery. I’d sat across from it for an hour last Friday. James Richardson had sent this letter, I was certain of it. I wasn’t ready to share that little discovery with Kommen just yet.
    “Well, now it’s officially blackmail,” I said. “Or extortion, if you prefer.”
    “I don’t prefer,” Kommen snapped without turning around. “I want a report. What progress have you made?”
    “Actually, I’m pretty close to being able to provide you with Enigma’s identity,” I said. That got his attention. He turned around, his face comical with surprise.
    “I have a few more things to confirm,” I continued, “but I should be finished with the investigation by Wednesday. That would be the seventeenth.”
    I put the letter back on his desk. “My unsolicited recommendation is to have the money ready for Thursday as Enigma requested. I believe he can make good on his threat.”
    “Your unsolicited recommendation is a crock of shit,” he spat. I watched him wrestle with his curiosity and lose. “He?”
    “Yes, he.” I shrugged. “Ignore my advice if you wish. But if I’m right about Enigma, you’ll wish you’d listened.” I paused, almost feeling a little sorry for him. “That said, if I’m right, you won’t like my answer no matter what.”
    Kommen leaned forward on his desk. “I insist you tell me who you suspect.” I hoped he wasn’t going to pound his fist on it, because I knew that in spite of my best efforts to the contrary, I’d laugh out loud at him.
    “I will. On Wednesday. Keep a