The Teratologist by Edward Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

It’s not in here. Not in here or here. Everything in life is flawed and corrupted and so God remains an enigma. All our attempts to capture him in literature, philosophy, and religion have amounted to little more than childish fantasies and superstitions based on our fears and desires. Garbage. All of it.”
    The two reporters stared at the young billionaire as he paced the polished marble floor, gesticulating madly.
    “ It’s like trying to imagine a shape or color you’ve never seen and then to recreate it on canvas. It can’t be done.”
    Bryant suddenly understood what the man was getting at. “But once you’ve seen that color. I mean, once you’ve seen God…”
    “ Well, once I have a true and accurate image of perfection, of something utterly without flaw, then as with everything else in my life, if I can conceive it then I can achieve it.”
    “ Okay, then how do you plan to get God to reveal himself to you?”
    “ That I shall explain later, but right now it’s getting late. I’ll have Michaels show you to your rooms. We can discuss it further at dinner.”
    “ But we’ve got a flight out tonight,” Westmore interjected, “and a deadline tomorrow!”
    “ Your deadline’s been extended,” Farringworth informed, “and your plans altered slightly. You’ll be staying at my home for several days. It’s already been cleared by your editor.” Farringworth was walking away, heels snapping on the tile floor. “Feel free to call him and verify.” Then he was gone.
    “ This is fucked up,” Westmore nearly yelled. “Call the office on your cell.”
    “ I am, I am.” Bryant was dialing, waiting. “And I’ll admit, this is pretty weird.”
    “ Weird? It’s a Chinese fuckin’ fire drill. It’s FUCKED UP.”
    Bryant was talking, nodding. His brow rose, then he turned the phone off. “Farringworth wasn’t kidding. Tait just told me everything’s clear. Wants us to stay up to a week, get the article right.”
    “ Good luck.” Westmore was pouring another scotch. “And like I said, it’s a damn good thing you’re the writer here. Better you than me, man. Have fun interviewing a guy who thinks he can capture God.” Westmore couldn’t reserve his laughter. He meandered to the window again, and the French doors, and just when he was starting to calm down, his heart lurched. Michaels was standing right next to him, hands behind his back, smiling very faintly. It was as though he’d materialized from the air.
    “ I think you’ll find Mr. Farringworth a most interesting interview subject.”
    “ You ain’t kidding.”
    “ Finish your drink, then I’ll take you to your rooms. I think you’ll find them adequate.”
    “ I’m sure we will,” Bryant said. “And I agree, Mr. Farringworth is a very interesting man.”
    Westmore was staring into more distraction. Unconsciously, he put his hand on the knob to the French doors, attempted to open them, then remembered they were locked. “Your grounds must be crawling with security and alarm sensors. Why are the doors locked?”
    Michaels maintained the trace smile. “A common sense precaution. There are many valuables in this house, Mr. Westmore.”
    Sure, but… Westmore didn’t finish the thought. The vibes were bugging him again. Outside, beyond the extensive garden, he could see the cul-de-sac in front of the next wing of the mansion. A panel van drove by, with the letters DAYE PHARMACEUTICALS, LTD along the side.
    Bryant saw it too. “I don’t remember anything in the profile about Mr. Farringworth owning a drug company.”
    “ He doesn’t own it. He merely has an esoteric interest in one.”
    “ Esoteric?” Bryant shot him a puzzled look. “You mean financial.”
    “ I mean esoteric.”
    But Westmore wasn’t listening. Instead his fingers were touching the window, not glass but something composite. “These windows are Lexan, aren’t they?”
    “ Yes, they are, Mr. Westmore. Appearance is important, especially to a man such