Comments about this story can be sent to: suedavid1@yahoo.com
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See part one for the disclaimer.
Faith Healer - Part Two
By
Sue David and Valerie Wells
8/2001
Starsky arrived early for the healing service, camera and a couple of extra rolls of film at the ready. Since he was expected to actually produce a real article for this, he wanted to do a good job -- and he might capture something on film that would help the case, too. He'd already developed the photos from the first service, and neither he nor Hutch had been able to see anything in those pictures to use against Brother Haley. Tonight, Starsky was going to stay near the front and not let himself get lured away from the real action.
"Mr. Frank," Brother Haley said from behind him as Starsky was scouting around for good photo angles.
Starsky manufactured a smile. "Evening, sir."
Haley was dressed simply, in khakis and a polo shirt. He didn't look like Starsky's idea of a minister, or a shyster, for that matter. He must have guessed what Starsky was thinking. "The healing services often go quite late," he said, indicating his clothing. "And they also get quite emotional at times. I've found that casual clothing is more efficient."
Starsky nodded, accepting the explanation. "I don't want to disrupt the service, but I do want to capture the spirit of it authentically," he said. "I'd like to stay up here tonight so I can get the best photos."
"Certainly," Brother Haley said. "I have no problem with that. Do you have a telephoto lens? I'd rather you didn't have to get too close when someone is in pain, whether that pain is spiritual or physical."
Starsky held it up. "Yes, I do. I won't have to get very close."
"Good, good. I must go pray now and prepare myself for the service. My sister will assist you if you need any help," he said.
Starsky sat down on the nearest folding chair and watched and took photos as people began to arrive. Many seemed healthy enough, but there were also quite a few on crutches, several in wheelchairs, and one, a young girl no more than 10 or 11, missing a leg. The child's eyes were bright with expectation as she chattered eagerly to her parents. The family sat down near Starsky and his camera instantly fascinated the child.
"Are you going to take our picture?" she asked him.
He grinned at her. "I might. Is that okay?"
"Sure!"
"I'm writing a story on the revival for The Pulse," Starsky added to the parents. The mother, as most of the women who attended these services, had long hair tamed into a chignon, and was wearing a simple dress and little, if any makeup. The father wore a short-sleeved shirt and a tie. "My name's David Frank."
"I'm Mike and this is Suzanne and," the man's voice softened a little as he indicated his daughter, "Stephanie."
"That's a beautiful name," Starsky said to the child. She rewarded him with another bright smile. "And what a pretty smile you have," he added. "Can I take your picture now?"
"Oh, yes. He can, can't he, Mama?"
"What's this story going to be like?" the woman asked.
"Well, you can see there's a lot of interest in Brother Haley," Starsky said, gesturing at the crowd that was rapidly filling up the tent. "Bay City isn't a very religious town, normally."
"Amen," Mike muttered, and Starsky grinned again.
"So for all these people to want to come to these services, Brother Haley must be doing something right," Starsky said, mentally crossing his fingers as he said it. "I wanted to let people know what's going on. It's going to be a series of articles, showing different aspects of the ministry. I expect to devote one article just to the healing service."
As soon as he'd said that, he wished he hadn't, because Stephanie's eyes lit up again and she said, "Brother Haley's gonna pray for me!"
"That's terrific, sweetheart," Starsky said, wondering what the child and her parents expected to happen. Did they think Haley's prayer was going to grow her leg back? "Hey, I didn't take your picture yet," he added, to distract her. "How about I do that now, before the service starts?"
Stephanie glanced at her mother, who nodded. So Starsky stepped back and got ready. Stephanie gave him another of her bright smiles and he snapped two or three photos in quick succession, to capture the shining eyes and happy face just right.
"I'll send them to you when I develop them tomorrow, okay?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, that'd be wonderful!"
He scribbled down the family's address in his notebook and excused himself as the service began.
The band played four or five songs first, to get the crowd warmed up, Starsky thought cynically, before Brother Haley came on. Hutch slipped in only moments before Brother Haley took the stage, and Starsky was appalled at his appearance. He seemed to have aged several years just since Starsky had seen him earlier, and his pallor was so pronounced that he was almost translucent.
It's makeup, Starsky told himself. You just saw him at this afternoon... He's fine.
"Friends!" Brother Haley bellowed, stopping the band and raising his hands for silence. "Friends, we are here tonight to beg the Lord's mercy on our infirmities."
"Amen!"
"Do you believe that the Almighty Creator of the universe can heal you?"
"Yes!"
"We believe!"
"Do you believe that by His stripes you are healed?"
"Yes, Brother! Preach it!"
"Will you trust the Lord to touch you this night?"
"We will!"
Starsky shot a few pictures of the people in wheelchairs, lined up across the front of the congregation. He tried not to look at Hutch, who was shouting with the rest, raising his hands in the air, and swaying a little as he did so. He was so pale....
Brother Haley closed his eyes and prayed. On and on he prayed, until Starsky stopped listening to it. He asked for everything a person could think of to ask for: health, wealth, prosperity, blessings on the church and on the offering, open hearts and minds among the people, miracles galore. Starsky was disgusted, and he wasn't sure how much of his disgust came from what Haley was actually saying, and how much of it was from the things he suspected Haley of doing. He took a few photos of Haley in the throes of prayer, with the band behind him, all of them with eyes closed and hands raised in supplication. He took a few more of Stephanie and her family. Her father had lifted her into his arms and was holding her up so she could see over the crowd.
Haley finished his prayer at last. "Sister," he said to Esther, "assist me, please."
The two of them came down off the platform and stood together. Esther handed her brother a jar of olive oil, and he poured a little of it on his hands.
"Come forth, all who would be healed tonight!" he thundered, and the people started lining up. Starsky fixed the telephoto lens to his camera and stood back out of the way, shooting frame after frame of the people who came forward. A man on crutches, with a twisted leg in a brace, had to be assisted as he stepped toward Haley. The preacher drew a cross on the man's forehead in oil, laid his hands on his shoulders, and prayed for long minutes. Esther stood next to the man, one hand on his back, the other in the air. Starsky was watching through his camera lens, taking photos. Suddenly, the man let out an anguished wail, startling in the hushed atmosphere, and dropped like a rock. Instinct made Starsky put the camera down and take a step toward him, but almost as soon as he did, the man's eyes opened and the expression in them was otherworldly. Instead of moving toward him, Starsky yanked the camera back up and tried to capture that expression.
He was stunned into immobility when the man stood up, tossed the crutches aside, and struggled to get the brace off. The friend who had helped him come forward knelt and unbuckled some of the straps for him.
And the man started dancing.
Starsky's mouth fell open and he stared. It took him several minutes to recover enough to start taking pictures again, but when he did, he made sure to get some close-ups of the man's formerly crippled leg. He was astonished to see that it no longer looked crippled. This man who hadn't been able to take a few steps unassisted a few minutes ago was dancing!
Starsky shot a glance toward Hutch, but his partner wasn't looking at him. He had his eyes closed, his brow furrowed, and he looked as if he were in pain.
Acting. He's acting, Starsky reminded himself sternly. It's part of his cover. He's fine.
It was getting harder to believe that. Starsky turned back toward the man, dancing joyfully up and down the aisles, showing off his leg.
"I'm healed! I'm healed!" he shouted over and over again. "Praise God!"
Haley watched, smiling, for a moment, before turning to the next person. Esther picked up the discarded crutches and brace and stacked them at the foot of the platform.
As the service progressed, that stack grew higher and higher. And Starsky grew more and more disturbed. He had suspected the "healings" were plants in the audience, hired and coached by Haley and his sister, but he had seen that first man's twisted leg with his own eyes.
He went still when Stephanie and her parents approached Haley. He scooted around to get a good angle with the camera and tried to creep close enough to hear what was going on. That proved unnecessary.
Haley gestured at the band to stop playing again, and he held up his hands for the crowd's silence. Then he knelt in front of the little girl. "What's your name?"
"Stephanie," she said, turning shy and clinging to her father's hand.
"What do you want from the Lord tonight, Stephanie?"
She glanced up at her dad, then back at Haley. "My leg," she said, holding it out. It had been amputated just below the knee. "I can't run or play. It won't get better so they can put a pros -- a pros -- " She glanced back at her dad again.
"They can't fit her with a prosthetic leg until it heals," Mike said. "It's been months, and the poor kid.... " His voice failed.
Haley patted his arm. He turned to the child. "Do you trust the Lord, Stephanie?"
She nodded.
"Do you believe He knows what's best for you?"
She nodded again, and her lips trembled.
"Do you believe He loves you, even more than your dad and mom do?"
She glanced up at her parents a bit doubtfully, but finally nodded at that, too.
"Esther," Haley said to his sister, and she knelt beside him and poured a little more oil onto his hands. He laid his hands on Stephanie's leg and closed his eyes.
Starsky looked around the tent. All over the tent, others were closing their eyes, too, raising their hands or stretching them toward Stephanie, and the voices of many of them rose, some speaking in tongues, others in English, praying. Hutch finally looked his way, and in one of those silent exchanges, the two of them agreed that if this man ever had any real influence with the Almighty, now was the time it had better bear fruit. It was bad enough if he fooled adults who should know better, but to play fast and loose with a trusting little girl was just too much.
Finally, Haley let go of the child and sat back on his heels. "Stephanie, how do you feel?"
She frowned a little. "I don't know. Okay, I guess."
"How does your leg feel?"
She looked down at it. "It doesn't feel any different," she said, her voice trembling.
Haley looked up at her parents. "The Lord answers prayer in His own time and in His own way," he said. "Perhaps He is not yet ready to heal her. Perhaps He already has."
Stephanie was openly crying now, and her father scooped her up in his arms. Slowly, the family moved back to their seats. Starsky was livid, and trying not to show it. He hadn't really expected anything to happen, but to get the kid's hopes up like that was unforgivable in his book.
Hutch was next. Starsky forced his anger down to a manageable level and raised the camera again. But as Hutch took a step forward, he fell as if in a dead faint.
Starsky had to bite his lip so hard he drew blood in order to keep from rushing to his partner's side. Haley knelt next to Hutch.
"Brother? What's wrong? Brother?" Haley gently turned him over and felt his forehead. He glanced around. "Is there a doctor here?"
Why don't you just pray for him? Starsky thought bitterly, his heart pounding and the adrenaline pumping with nowhere to go.
"I'm a nurse," said a plump older woman. She knelt next to Hutch, too, and felt his pulse and opened his eyes. He moaned a little and tried to push her hands away. "I think he just fainted," she said to Haley.
Hutch's eyelashes fluttered and he opened his eyes, looking up at the three faces surrounding him as if he didn't know where he was.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You fainted," the nurse said.
Hutch closed his eyes as if in pain. "The doctor said that might happen sometimes," he said softly. He struggled to a sitting position and held his head in his hands. "I'll be all right," he said to the woman.
It was just part of the act, Starsky thought, relieved. I hope.
"Let me pray for you, brother," Haley said, reaching for him. But Hutch shook his head and tried to stand. Haley helped him.
"Not tonight," Hutch said, still seeming groggy and disoriented. "I need to go home. Could somebody help me get home?"
Haley glanced at his sister. "Will you take over here? I'll drive him home."
She nodded, and Haley put an arm around Hutch. Slowly, they walked down the aisle toward the exit, with Starsky seething with impatience and worry behind them. He tried to tell himself this was Hutch's way of showing Haley his "ritzy" place, but he wouldn't draw an easy breath until he knew for sure. And if Haley was taking him home, it might be hours before it was safe to call or show up to make sure.
~~~~~~~~~~
Hutch allowed Haley to drive him home in the Mercedes. The pastor said he could catch a cab later and that way Hutch would have his car if he needed it. Sinking wearily into the passenger seat, Hutch turned his face away from the minister and leaned heavily against the glass. He weakly gave directions to the safe house.
Once they arrived, Hutch got out of the car in the driveway and started up the back steps. Halfway up, Hutch grabbed his head in pain and stumbled, letting a soft moan escape his lips. Haley grabbed him around his waist from the back and helped him to his feet.
"Thanks. I don't know what's wrong with me tonight." He shook his head in an effort to regain his equilibrium. He reached over the doorjamb for the key, grateful to find that Dobey had thought of that. Haley took it from him and let them in through the kitchen door. The house was dark. When Haley found the light switch, he turned it on and saw a large, richly appointed kitchen. He noted with satisfaction that Halliday must be wealthy indeed to live in such a house.
Fortunately, Hutch had been to the house on previous occasions. Dobey told him he would arrange for everything. He invited Brother Haley to make himself at home, but he never made it through the living room. Turning back toward the minister with his hand up to his forehead, he said, "I still feel a little funny. I think I'll just lie down on the couch for a little while."
He stumbled over to the sofa and sank down on it in a heap.
"Where's the bathroom?" Haley asked.
Hutch pointed weakly down the hall and said, "On the right."
Haley found the bathroom, went in and closed the door. He really wasn't interested in using the facilities. What he wanted to do was snoop. Quietly opening the medicine cabinet door, he rifled through the contents. Captain Dobey and the team from Metro were thorough. A collection of prescription bottles, partially filled with different colored placebos and written to Ken Halliday, was in the cabinet. Haley looked at them with satisfaction. He grinned to himself, knowing he had found his next mark. Turning to the linen cupboard, he pulled out a washcloth, dampened it with cold water and then he returned to the living room where he found Hutch stretched out on the sofa, eyes closed, breathing rapidly, as if he were in pain.
Kneeling next to Hutch, Haley put the cool washcloth on his forehead and said, "Maybe this will help. Do you need anything?"
Hutch opened his eyes slowly and focused on Haley's face. "Thanks, but no. I appreciate you driving me home. You can use the phone in the kitchen to call a cab." He reached in his pocket to get his wallet.
"No, Brother. I can't take money from you." He put his hand on Hutch's arm to stop him. "Besides, I don't feel right leaving you like this. I'll just stay a while until I'm sure you're all right."
Hutch couldn't help but think I'll bet you can't take money from me. He did his best to resist smiling at that.
"No need. I get like this sometimes. Doc said it would come and go." Hutch could see that Haley was determined to stay – to make Ken Halliday feel a need for him. He was sure the man would insist and he was correct.
"I'll stay. Just until I'm sure."
Hutch nodded his agreement and closed his eyes again. He knew Starsky would be worried and hoped he would keep away from the house long enough for him to get the pastor out of there. Maybe if he made the man a little uncomfortable, he'd be more inclined to leave.
Several minutes after Haley had settled into a chair near the sofa, Hutch quietly asked him a question, "What happened with that little girl?" He was still seething with disgust over the child's obvious disappointment.
"What do you mean, Brother?" Haley asked, his voice dripping of the purest naiveté.
"All of those others seemed healed when you touched them. Why not that child?" He knew this was dangerous territory, but he also hoped it would provoke a useful response.
"How do we know she wasn't helped? The Lord works in mysterious ways, Brother."
"But she said she didn't feel any different," he continued to press.
"She's just a child. God, in His infinite wisdom, may have other plans for her. Ours is not to question Him or His ways." Although he really didn't expect a different response, Hutch was hoping not to be thrown a standard line of rhetoric by the man. He wasn't sure why he thought it could be otherwise. The man continued, "Let me help you, Brother. I'll pray with you."
Deciding to take a huge risk in the operation, Hutch replied, "No, sir. Thank you for all of your kind attention, but I just can't. Maybe it was a mistake my going to your church. Seeing God fail that child, why should he help someone like me? I won't trouble you anymore." He was careful to accuse God of the failure, not the pastor.
Haley squirmed uncomfortably inside, but his exterior was a smooth and impenetrable mask. "God never fails, my son. As Job said, 'With Him are wisdom and might; To Him belong counsel and understanding.'"
Hutch was ready for him. He had quickly memorized some suitable Bible passages in preparation for this undercover assignment. The book of Job had been high on his list. "Yes, Brother, but did he not also say that it was God who made his heart faint and that the Almighty dismayed him? I will make my peace in my own way."
The minister was unsure where to take this next, but he was not willing to let such a big fish wriggle off his hook. He gazed at the blond man before him, obviously suffering from pain and the weariness brought on by his disease.
"Don't lose heart and faith, Brother Ken. Let us pray together now. You saw how many others were helped. Tomorrow, come back to the ministry and we will try to help you find your way."
Hutch wavered a little and then agreed. The pastor stayed and prayed with him for two hours.
Meanwhile, Starsky covered the rest of the healing service. He was itching to call Hutch, but afraid to blow it. Haley hadn't returned and after two hours, he was getting nervous. When the service was over, he noticed that Esther had gone to speak with Stephanie and her parents. The child was on her father's lap, her head turned into his chest. She obviously was refusing to look at Esther. He pretended to be writing in his notebook as he inched his way close enough to them to hear the conversation.
"Please don't be discouraged, friends. The Lord works in His own way. Sometimes Brother Haley does special healing meetings for individuals. Would you like me to set that up for you?" Esther spoke soothingly to the couple, who were nodding their agreement.
"Stephanie has a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. We could come after that, is there time?" Suzanne asked. Esther excused herself long enough to retrieve her brother's calendar.
Starsky edged closer and said, "Hi, folks. Things all right?" He knew there would be a price for this special healing meeting Esther was offering and he wondered if this was a way of bilking the worried parents out of some money.
"Yes. Brother Haley is going to meet with us one-on-one for Stephanie. Isn't that wonderful?" Suzanne answered. Mike looked more skeptical, but he held his tongue.
"I hope it will help. Can you tell me how it felt tonight? I mean when you saw all of those other people helped, but Stephanie didn't seem to be affected?"
Esther Haley walked up behind him as he said that. She stepped between him and the family, a displeased look on her face. She quietly said to him, "Is this part of your article, Mr. Frank? I would hate to think you are using their pain for your own ends."
Starsky was galled by that remark. "Yes, I think it's fair if I examine all sides, don't you?"
"As long as you aren't interfering with the ministry or bothering our brothers and sisters."
Mike said, "He's not bothering us, Sister. I think it's a fair question. We're disappointed, naturally. I'm not ready to give up hope yet, though. Look at that other man. The one who fainted after Brother laid hands on Stephanie. He also wasn't helped. Surely, Mr. Frank here isn't implying it was just Stephanie the Lord turned away from tonight."
That comment brought Hutch instantly back to the forefront of Starsky's mind. He hoped he was all right. In his head, he continued with the litany, Hutch is fine. All part of his cover. Hutch is fine.
Esther turned back toward the family. "The Lord didn't turn away from your daughter. Give it time. If anyone can help, my brother can." She shot a withering glare at Starsky. "Brother Haley has time tomorrow at one. Can you be here?"
"We'll be here."
Starsky interjected, "Tell me something, Sister Haley. Is there any charge for this special meeting with the good pastor?"
Esther was becoming more than annoyed with the nosey reporter. "Not exactly. Brother does ask for a donation to help defray the costs of the ministry." Just as Starsky suspected.
The mother piped up, "We'll pay it. Anything to help Stephanie." The couple stood and took their daughter out of the tent. When they were out of earshot, Esther Haley turned her now undisguised anger on the reporter.
"Who do you think you are, Mr. Frank? You promised not to interfere with us." She was turning an interesting shade of red.
"I'm a reporter, ma'am. I ask questions and sometimes they are painful ones. What's the big deal? You have something to hide here?" He didn't expect to get anywhere, but he threw that question out nonetheless.
"Of course we don't." Her expression softened a notch and she added, "I'm sorry for displaying my temper in that way. I just feel protective of our flock."
"I understand ma'am. May I ask you a few more questions?" Since Haley was not there yet, he guessed he would fill the time by investigating.
Esther sighed; drying her clammy palms on her skirt as she took the seat Starsky indicated. He tried to maintain a demeanor of sincere inquiry, without appearing judgmental. After what happened with Stephanie, that was difficult.
"I noticed after your brother left with that poor man who collapsed tonight, no other healings seemed to take place. Is it that your brother has the special healing ability?"
Looking a bit dumbfounded, Esther opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it on reconsideration. She folded her hands together on her lap and looked seriously into Starsky's inquisitive face. "My brother has the gift of healing, yes. I have not been as blessed that way. I wish you could have seen our father. He truly had the gift. Such wondrous ministry poured from his hands. He was like God's instrument in a way I can only pray to someday be."
The look of sincerity on her face was unexpected. Starsky felt a little of the fire in his heart dissipate under Esther's gaze. Maybe she wasn't into the "enterprise" of the ministry. His danger sense did not seem to extend as much to her and he knew he needed to be cautious. He was playing a part; perhaps Esther was, too.
He considered where to go next with his questions, and took a chance on something at what appeared to be a vulnerable moment for her. "Sister Esther, my readers will be interested in what's done with all the money collected by the ministry. Would it be possible for me to speak with some of the people keepin' your books? I'm sure you have an accounting staff. I think sometimes it puts people at ease to know how honestly a charity is handling its funding." Starsky did his best to attach his most charming look to the question as he tipped his head a little to one side. If nothing else, he was well schooled in the art of looking slightly vulnerable and his natural charisma had helped him carry it off many times.
The target of that boyish look mellowed. She smiled slightly and said, "I don't see why not. Come back tomorrow, say at 11:00. That will give the girls time to finish with the payroll before your interview. "
"Terrific. I'll be here." He stood up and shook her hand warmly. After gathering his camera equipment, he left the tent and walked as nonchalantly as he could toward the battered hulk of a vehicle. The entire way to the car the little hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, alert to the feeling he was being watched. Esther wasn't the only one who watched him leave. Two men who could most accurately be described as bouncers were also watching from the shadows of the parking lot. Huddled in the dark near the tent, they made note of the man and his vehicle. Giving each other a knowing glance, they went back inside the tent to help shut down for the night.
Having gotten far enough away from the tent show to feel comfortable, Starsky grabbed the radio mike and asked dispatch to put him through to the unmarked car watching the safe house. After ascertaining that the minister was still in the house, he instructed the other officer to call him on the radio as soon as he left. Then he drove nearby and parked Hutch's car on a side street where Haley wouldn't see him and he waited.
When the call finally came, Starsky waited a few more moments until he saw a cab pulling out of the neighborhood. Then he walked to the house, fearful the minister could still return. Hiding himself would at least be easier than hiding the car.
Starsky found the kitchen door open and he let himself into the house, calling out to Hutch. "Hey!" When he didn't receive an immediate answer, he became concerned and he started to search the house. He found Hutch crashed on the couch, still looking too pale, with a washcloth covering his forehead. When Starsky sat on the coffee table and touched Hutch on the arm, he nearly jumped off the couch he was so startled.
"Huh?" He looked around with momentary confusion. Starsky was concerned that Hutch really had been asleep.
"You okay?" He looked closely into Hutch's dilated eyes, hoping they looked that way because of the dim lighting. The blond looked like he didn't feel well.
"Starsk, how'd you... where's Haley?" Hutch put a hand up and took down the washcloth.
"He split. I've been waiting around the block for over an hour." Starsky reached up to touch Hutch's clammy forehead. "You sure you're really okay?"
"Lighten up, Starsk. I'm fine." Hutch stood up and walked toward the kitchen. "Want a beer? Bet they stocked up the fridge." Starsky watched him go, wondering if he detected a little unsteadiness in his gait. Stop it. He's fine, idiot.
"Sure. What happened? What the hell was goin' on here and why were you all crashed out like that?" Starsky was full of questions and he wasn't hiding the concern in his voice like he had hoped he could.
Hutch returned with the beers and said, "Will you relax? Brother Bigshot wanted to pray over me or something. We traded Scripture and I think I scared him into making a more serious try for my devotion, if you get my drift. He wants me to come in tomorrow for a special healing meeting, just the two of us."
"Terrific. That poor little girl and her parents are going to one of those meetings tomorrow, too. You get anything else?"
Hutch took a long sip of his beer. He put his head back and tried to let the tension flow out of him as he answered. "If nothing else, he's convinced I'm sick and he's convinced I'm rich. I heard him going through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Guess Dobey and the setup team did a good job."
"He's convinced?" Starsky decided he'd better level with Hutch. "I'm convinced. Are you sure you're okay, buddy? I gotta tell you, I was scared shitless when you collapsed like that. And how the hell did you get yourself lookin' so rough between when I saw you this afternoon and when you walked into that tent?"
"I scared you? Sorry, buddy. I'm fine. Quit worrying, huh? I'd like to thank the Academy...." Hutch smiled wryly, but the tired lines around his eyes and his general appearance still had Starsky worried.
"Ha, ha. Look, you'd tell me if somethin' was really wrong, wouldn't you?"
Hutch wanted to laugh at him, but he decided he'd better not. The look on his friend's face told him how concerned he was. "Course I would. Look, I'll admit, I'm not feelin' too good. I must be coming down with something. Maybe that helped with the look, who knows? Swear, I'm not hiding a terminal illness from you, partner." He smiled again and reached out to pat Starsky on the arm.
His superstitious partner didn't like Hutch even saying "terminal illness" associated with himself. He smiled back and nodded that he understood. The look that passed between them was clear though. "I'm watching you," sent, "I know," received.
Starsky explained what he had learned at the tent. Then they discussed the photos he had taken that night. In the morning, he and Hutch would meet at a diner they liked that was nowhere near the ministry. Starsky would bring the developed film with him. They were hoping to discover something interesting in those shots. Starsky also explained that his gut instincts were telling him Esther was a peripheral part of the scam. While Brother Haley was purely creepy, and every cop instinct both of them had knew he was dangerous, they agreed Esther seemed to be relatively uninvolved in the dark side of the ministry.
Hutch said, "I was so angry when that poor little girl came up and nothing happened for her. Guess it was unrealistic to expect this guy to really have the ability to heal. You know what really pisses me off, Starsk? Somehow I know there are real, dedicated people who have the ability to heal. People who get that gift from a higher power. This guy, he's just bad news."
Starsky nodded. "Poor Stephanie. Hey, next time you're gonna collapse, you think you could warn me somehow? Wait, never mind. I know the answer. Look, I didn't like him bein' here alone with you like this tonight. He already probably put something in your food once. I want you to wear a wire."
"No way, Starsk. This guy lays hands on people. I stumbled on the back steps on the way into the house tonight and he picked me up. If I'd been wearing a wire, he'd have known."
Starsky's eyes opened wide with concern. "What'dya mean you stumbled? For real, or for Brother Bigshot's benefit?"
Hutch shook his head wearily and said, "Aw, come on, Starsk. Drop it, will ya? No wire."
Starsky put a hand on Hutch's arm again and looked him squarely in the eyes. They looked clearer now, and he was glad to see that. "Answer my question."
"I tripped on my big feet, if you must know." Hutch blushed.
Starsky smiled at him and said, "Klutz."
Hutch smiled back. "Dirtball."
Starsky stood up and said, "Well, I have photos to develop. If you're okay here for the night, I'll see you at Casey's for breakfast at eight."
"I'm fine. Get some sleep, too. Tomorrow may be a long one."
As he walked out the kitchen door, Starsky called over his shoulder, "You're wearin' a wire starting tomorrow night."
Hutch called back, "No, I'm not." He chuckled to himself when he heard the door click shut. Sometimes having a best friend that worries all the time was a pain, but it still felt good to know his partner was watching out for him. He started turning out the lights and headed to the back of the house to examine his sleeping arrangements.
Starsky stopped down the street and spoke briefly with the cops in the unmarked car, on the pretense of bending down to tie his shoe, just in case someone was watching.
"Call me at home if anyone comes over here before he leaves in the morning. He should be leavin' around 7:30."
"Sure thing, Starsky. We've got him covered."
As he walked back to Hutch's car, Starsky's mind was racing. What would tomorrow bring? What did Haley have planned for his partner? The most important questions still centered on Hutch's health. Why did he trip on the stairs? Was he really feeling dizzy tonight? He strengthened his resolve to keep a wary eye on the big blond. Glad he had film to develop, Starsky knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep. He also knew he had lost the argument about Hutch wearing a wire. If he couldn't get his partner to wear one, he'd have Dobey bug the house. Hutch would agree to that.
Starsky stayed up into the wee hours developing the rolls of film he'd taken at the service. The ones of Stephanie and her parents turned out very nice, not even spoiled by the slightly worried expressions on the faces of both her mother and father in spite of their smiles. Stephanie's bright eyes and eager smile made up for that easily.
Further into the developing, he came upon the photos of Stephanie with Brother Haley -- or Brother Bigshot, as he and Hutch had been calling him. Starsky's eyes had mostly been on Stephanie, though he'd thought he was watching the evangelist, and now he saw that the man's eyes were not really closed in prayer, as he'd assumed. Haley had been looking past Stephanie and her parents, out into the congregation. That puzzled Starsky. What had he been looking at? Starsky closed his own eyes and tried to bring up a mental picture of that section of the congregation. No one stood out. Several people of different ages – mostly between 30 and 50 -- had been right behind Stephanie, many of them praying aloud, stretching their hands toward the child. Hutch had been back there, too, and had played along. Or maybe not. Knowing the Blintz's soft heart, he might well have been praying, too. Had Haley been looking at Hutch?
Starsky shook his head. He couldn't be certain. He kept working, carefully examining each photo for clues. He found the one with the first man to be healed, the one whose twisted leg had been in a brace. He enlarged that one several times, zeroing in on the leg. It certainly looked twisted and withered. He enlarged several more photos he'd taken during that healing. There was the one where the man had fallen down. Starsky looked closely at his leg, still in the brace. But because of the man's position, he wasn't able to get a really good look at his leg.
In the final few photos, the man was standing up, taking off his brace, and showing off his "healed" leg. Starsky enlarged the last one, where the man was dancing. His leg certainly looked straight and normal in that one. He compared that photo to the first one. Some trick of the brace itself? He wondered. He put those photos aside to show Hutch and moved on.
Another of the healings involved someone who had been in a wheelchair. Easy enough to fake that, Starsky thought. Sit there and look helpless, and when the right moment came, jump up and announce you're healed. Same for the woman who had complained of back pain. Maybe she had a bad back, and maybe she didn't. No way to tell.
He returned to the man with the twisted leg and compared his bad leg to his good one. There was a definite difference, both in the way it was attached to his hip and in the way his pants hung on it. And later, when he'd been dancing, it had looked just like the other one.
"S'pose even Doug Henning can do real magic sometimes, too," Starsky muttered to himself disgustedly.
He continued to examine the photos until he found one he thought he could use. This, too, had been someone in a wheelchair, a man about his own age who had said he had been paralyzed for some years. Haley had knelt in front of him and removed the lap robe that had covered his legs. Starsky had been using the zoom lens and had gotten a very close shot of the man's legs. They weren't at all wasted and thin, as they should have been if the man hadn't been using them for years. And if they were paralyzed, he could hardly have been exercising them, could he?
Haley had run his hands over the man's legs from knee to ankle, praying all the while. The man had sat there, trembling and crying, and finally, Haley had stood up and held his hands out to the man, as you would to a child you were encouraging to walk on its own. The man had stood up shakily and reached for Haley, who had backed away, smiling and encouraging him. "Walk!" Haley had said. "Walk to me! In the name of the Lord!"
And the man had, to the cheers and "hallelujahs" of the crowd. Starsky stared at that photo for a long time. Something about this man in particular was making all his detective instincts rise up and howl. He quickly sorted through the photographs he'd taken the night before. And then he found it. A man who looked a lot like this one. Same height and build, but with different colored hair and a mustache. Otherwise, they could have been brothers. Or possibly even the same man....
Starsky laid the two photos together. The photo from the first night was slightly out of focus, because it had been taken during the thickest of the worship time, when members of the congregation were waving their arms in the air, singing, some of them even dancing in place.
It wasn't proof. But it was definitely worth looking into.
Hutch came over bright and early, too early for Starsky, who hadn't gone to bed until 3 or 4 in the morning. He let himself in when he got no answer from his knock, and found Starsky sacked out cold in bed, lying on top of the covers fully dressed. He grinned and shook his head and went toward the kitchen, intending to make coffee. But the table was covered with Starsky's photos, and he stopped to look them over.
He was struck with the quality of the photos. He'd known Starsky was a good photographer, good enough to be a professional, but these photos were striking. Starsky had managed to catch the spirit and the flavor of the revival in them, and the variety of shots was amazing. There were close-ups of faces transported in the ecstasy of worship, longer shots which showed the crowd singing, holding up their hands and praying, shots of healings, shots of Brother Haley preaching and of the band. Each and every one was full of life and action.
Two were laid aside, apart from the others. Hutch picked them up and studied them. Clearly, Starsky had been searching for something in particular.
One photo showed a small section of the congregation, six or eight people, slightly out of focus, hands in the air, eyes closed. The second showed Haley and one of the people who had come forward for healing. Haley's hands were on the man's head. Hutch studied this one closely and compared it to the other after a few minutes. He thought he knew what Starsky had been looking for. One of the men in the group shot bore a striking resemblance to the man in the wheelchair in the second shot. But the group shot had been taken the first night; Hutch recognized one of the other people as someone he had spoken to that night. The man in question was standing up and had even been doing a sort of dance at one point. The healing was on the second night.
Starsky thought the healing was staged. Hutch knew it as clearly as if his partner was standing beside him and had said so aloud.
"You see it, too, don't you?" Starsky asked quietly from behind him.
Hutch turned, still holding the two photos. "I see a resemblance, yes. But it's not the same man."
Starsky stared at him. "Come on, Hutch. It's easy enough to change your appearance. He coulda dyed his hair or worn a wig. It's the same guy. We're looking for evidence Brother Bigshot's a faker, and there it is!"
"I'm not saying Haley isn't a faker," Hutch said. "I'm saying these two guys are not the same man."
"It's worth checking out, anyway," Starsky argued.
"And if we did, we'd blow our cover," Hutch said.
"We could get Jack and Sean to do it, or Simmons and Babcock." Starsky was seriously disturbed at Hutch's stubbornness on this point. "Besides," he went on, "I'm supposed to be doing a story on this whole thing. I could check it out to confirm the facts for the story."
"Then do," Hutch said. "I can't."
There was an odd note to Hutch's voice that worried Starsky. Usually they could discuss it when they disagreed on a point in a case, but there was a flat "this is not open for discussion" tone in Hutch's voice this time and Starsky knew pressing the point would only run him smack into that Viking wall of ice. And it hadn't escaped him that Hutch had called the evangelist "Haley" and not "Brother Bigshot."
"I thought we were meeting at Casey's for breakfast," Starsky said, mostly to change the subject. "What are you doing here?"
"It's 9," Hutch said with a grin. "We were supposed to meet at 8, remember? I waited almost an hour and then I realized you were probably still sleeping. So I came over here."
"Sorry," Starsky said sheepishly. "I was up pretty late developing these."
Considering the number of photos, Hutch was surprised he'd gotten that much done and gotten any sleep at all. "These are good," he said, sifting through them again.
"Thanks." Starsky yawned and padded over to start coffee. "Still wanna go to Casey's? Or you wanna eat here?"
"Let's eat here," Hutch said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "It's probably safer than being seen in public together, anyway."
"Okay." Starsky rooted through the fridge for some bacon and eggs and got the frying pan going. He glanced over at his partner and saw him studying the photo of Haley laying hands on Stephanie, but looking out into the congregation. "Whattya make of that?" Starsky asked, trying to sound casual.
"What? That he didn't heal Stephanie?" Hutch didn't look at him.
"That, too, but look at Haley's face. He's not prayin'. He's staring at somebody. Thought maybe it was you."
"No, it wasn't me," Hutch said. "And how do you know he isn't praying? Because his eyes are open?"
Starsky turned around and looked at Hutch to see if he was joking. Sometimes the Blintz's sense of humor expressed itself in strange ways, and maybe this was one of those times. But Hutch wasn't looking at him -- still wasn't looking at him -- and there was no trace of the quirky expression he would have if he was pulling Starsky's leg.
"Answer me something honestly," Starsky said, abandoning breakfast to sit down across from Hutch.
"What?"
"Are you falling for this guy's schtick?" When Hutch finally did look up, it was with an expression of guilt. That did nothing to calm Starsky's fears.
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't believe he can really heal, do you?"
Hutch shook his head. "No. At least, I don't think so."
"You don't think so?" Starsky's voice rose.
"Look, I'm trying to keep an open mind," Hutch said. "We can't bust a guy for holding a revival, for crying out loud. We have to have evidence. And if I'm going to be convincing undercover, I have to keep an open mind."
Starsky stared at him for several moments, until the hissing of bacon frying reminded him to get up and turn it over. He shook his head, poking at the food with a spatula. "Be careful, partner," he said over his shoulder. "Don't get sucked in."
"Don't worry."
Don't worry, he says. Don't worry. Right. Starsky's days were now full of worry. He worried that something was seriously wrong with Hutch. He worried that Haley would hurt his partner somehow. Now he was worried the man was getting through to his partner. The night before, Hutch seemed to believe he was faking, too. Now, Starsky wasn't certain. Starsky knew in his heart that Haley was a fake, and he suspected him of being a swindler and a murderer. Nice company for Hutch to be in when Starsky wasn't there to protect him. Since Hutch had already refused to wear a wire, now was as good a time as any to tell him he wanted the house bugged.
"I was thinking about you wearing a wire." He put a hand up to squelch the coming protest. "Just listen. I get it that you won't. Instead, I'm gonna ask Dobey to have the house and your car bugged. That way, at least someone is listening when you're alone with Haley."
"All right."
Starsky needed to probe that wall of ice a little before he could let the subject go. "Uh, last night you said Haley was bad news. You change your mind?"
Hutch looked thoughtful for a moment. "No. I'm just not sure about this healing thing. Dammit, Starsk, I have to keep an open mind. I'm not that good an actor. If I go in there thinking he's full of it, I'm afraid it'll show on my face. Understand?"
"Yeah, I hear ya. I just want to be sure the guy's not brainwashing you or something."
Hutch laughed at that. "Repeat after me, Oh wa ta foo liam."
"Very funny, Blintz."
Starsky brought their food to the table. He ate his with his usual gusto, but Hutch picked. When they were done eating, he thought it would be a stretch to say his partner had eaten half of what he gave him.
"You still starving yourself for your craft?" he asked as he cleared the plates from the table.
"Huh? Oh, I'm just not hungry."
Starsky decided against making additional remarks about Hutch's health. He had already pushed enough buttons in the short time they'd been together.
"When are you goin' over to see Haley?"
"This afternoon, at two."
"Good, that'll give you time to take the car down to the precinct to get it wired. I'll call Dobey about the house."
"Okay. What about you?"
"I'm gonna grab a quick shower. Then I think I'll stop by The Pulse and let Detchel see these photos. I have an appointment at Haley's to meet with the accounting staff at 11:00. I'll make sure I'm still there at two if I have to ask them a million questions."
Hutch smiled at him. "All right, partner. Settle down though, huh? You're running a little hot."
Starsky gave him his best "Who, me?" look and Hutch nodded, satisfied his partner would be careful. He left a few minutes later, promising he would look in on Dobey and ask about the bug for the house so Starsky didn't have to call.
Brother Haley got up early that morning and called the ministry's physician, John Thompson, in to see him. The man was a convert, zealous and loyal. He had called on the doctor to help him in the work many times. This time, he wanted something to help him win Hutch's trust and belief.
"Brother John, I need a favor."
"You have only to ask." Thompson would do anything to help the pastor.
"One of our newest congregants has a terminal illness. I need to help him feel better while I am waiting for the Lord to finish his healing work. Brother Ken's energy level is failing and I'm afraid if he doesn't receive help from God soon, he'll give up hope. Can you give me something to give him that will help him to not feel so tired?"
Thompson asked, "What's wrong with him?"
"He has an inoperable brain tumor."
"Isn't the healing helping at all?"
"You know the Lord works in His own time. I just want to help Brother Ken to get through the hard part while we wait. I need something I can give him without his knowledge, understand?" He tried to make his voice and eyes convey sincerity and concern for the blond man.
"All right. I could give you some uppers, those will give him lots of energy. Just be careful not to give him too much. That could be dangerous."
Haley smiled. Despite the sinister look his smile always seemed to carry, his converts could not see it. They were blinded by the man's charisma and their thoughts that he had a healing gift. Haley found that a little sad. In the beginning, he thought he had that gift too, just like his father. In time, he became jaded and angry with God. How could God deny him? When he left to form his traveling ministry, he discovered how easy it was to convince people who had no hope left that he was helping them. Along the way, the money he could make from these lost souls seduced him. Now, he was convinced he really was God's agent and that his actions were justified. He had no compunction about giving speed to a dying man to get across his point. God would forgive him if it meant more money to the ministry that would help him spread the word.
"That's fine. You tell me how much," he said. Thompson returned a few minutes later with a small box of capsules. He instructed Haley to empty just one of them into a drink. They should be undetectable.
"Be sure not to overdo it. You could kill him."
"I'll be careful, Brother. All for the cause, right?"
Starsky arrived a few minutes before eleven. He went straight into the tent to find Esther. She was waiting for him near the front entrance.
"Good morning," she said. "You're right on time."
"Well, I wouldn't get used to it, ma'am. I'm not usually prompt." He laughed at himself.
She returned his laughter. "Come with me. I just checked and the girls are finished with their work. I took the liberty of bringing in some sandwiches for lunch. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind? I'm almost always hungry. Thanks." Starsky offered his arm to Esther, who took it with an almost shy giggle. He did not notice that he was being watched again by some of the crew members. Even Esther didn't know that her brother had ordered the men to keep a wary eye on David Frank. When Starsky was out of sight, they went to speak with the pastor and get some direction from him.
Starsky and Esther walked together out toward a small cluster of trailers. The ministry's business activities were conducted there. She showed Starsky into one of the trailers and introduced her to the three ladies who took care of all accounting matters. They looked like most of the women who attended services – simply dressed, with upswept long hair and little makeup. The oldest woman was in her early sixties and clearly in charge. The other two women were in their fifties.
Over the next three hours, Starsky discussed all aspects of the ministry's finances with the three women. They were helpful, yet somewhat reserved. He was amazed at how much money was being taken in each night during the services. Starsky also noted the names of several large benefactors. He wrote them down in his book, intent on finding out who they were. One of them was the woman found dead in her car and another was Matt Detchel.
Meanwhile, Brother Haley had spoken with his henchmen. David Frank was getting too nosey, and Haley didn't like his attentions toward Esther. His two men were ordered to see that the pesky reporter met with an accident that afternoon in the tent.
"Make sure it kills him, but it has to look like an accident."
Haley prepared himself to hold his special healing meetings, first with Stephanie and her parents, then with Ken Halliday. Stephanie's family appeared not to have any money. He would not pursue a further relationship with them. Last night's trip to Halliday's home confirmed that he would be his next financial conquest.
The meeting with Stephanie and her parents went well. They all prayed together and discussed the little girl's health. She was an insulin dependent diabetic. The doctors believed that was why she was having trouble healing. Haley collected a twenty-dollar "donation" from them and they were gone – with the promise to return that night – before Hutch arrived to keep his appointment. He saw Starsky heading into the main tent as he was entering Haley's trailer.
Hutch greeted the minister and took a seat.
"I hope you'll share some lunch with me, Brother. I've just finished another meeting and haven't had time to eat yet."
"No, thank you. I'm not hungry," Hutch replied, intent on not eating anything the man had to offer.
"Well, then a drink perhaps."
"No, really."
"You still look a little pale, Brother. Perhaps you are feeling unwell? I have some cans of soda in my refrigerator. I'll get you one."
Hutch agreed to that, thinking he probably couldn't have doctored a canned soda. He watched carefully while the minister pulled two cups out of a cabinet, retrieved the sodas, opened them, and poured their contents into the cups – nothing suspicious looking. He accepted the drink with his thanks, unsuspecting that the man had placed an amphetamine in one of the cups prior to his arrival.
Within half an hour, Hutch felt his heart beating too fast, and he was noticing an increased sensitivity to light and sounds. He felt increasingly alert with an urge to get up and do something. While trying to pay attention to the minister's prayers and efforts to heal him, he was going over a list of things he needed to do in the greenhouse in his head. He found his mind wandering, thinking about Starsky and what might be going on with him. For some reason, the thought that his drink had been altered never occurred to him. Hutch was also feeling ultra-confident, that he was easily pulling off this undercover assignment.
Starsky was in the tent. He had no intention of leaving until Hutch did, so he found ways to keep himself occupied while his partner was in Haley's office. About half an hour after Hutch disappeared into the pastor's lair, one of the crewmembers asked Starsky if he could help set some things up on the stage. He had no idea he had just been maneuvered into impending danger.
While Starsky was bolting several panels together, one of the big henchmen had climbed up to the lighting rig above him. Pretending to be securing something, he was really removing the bolts on one side of a long light fixture. He braced it up until Starsky was in position. When his mark was in just the right spot, the goon let the light fixture slip. At almost the last second, Starsky heard the creaking metal and felt the rush of something coming toward him. He looked to his right and saw the light fixture just as it crashed into him. One of the lights hit him in the head as the heavy, swinging bar picked him up and tossed him into the air. He crashed into a row of folding seats, fifteen feet from the stage and fell to the ground unconscious. Some of the crewmembers rushed to his side, finding him bleeding and battered. His right arm was swelling and a purple knot was already forming on the right side of his forehead, close to his temple.
Hutch had to admit to Haley that he felt better after their session. He was feeling energetic, not tired like he had been. The minister seemed pleased. While they were discussing the healing powers of God, they heard an approaching siren. The howling noise sounded like it came into the ministry parking lot. Brother Haley looked out the window and saw a paramedic unit.
"Wonder what's happened?" he said innocently.
The siren hadn't sounded like a black-and-white. Hutch was sure it was an ambulance. He mentally chastised himself for being paranoid, but his first thought was that something had happened to Starsky.
"Maybe we should go check," he said to Haley.
Nodding in agreement, Haley opened the door for Hutch and they both stepped out of the trailer. The ambulance was sitting outside of the tent. By the time they made it inside, the paramedics were bending over someone in the midst of strewn folding chairs. Haley stopped one of the workers.
"What's going on?" he asked.
She pointed to the light bar, now dangling dangerously from the overhead framework of the stage. "That light fixture fell and hit that reporter in the head."
Hutch's rapid heartbeat increased impossibly. He already felt it hammering in his chest like a freight train.
Haley gasped. "Is he all right?"
"I don't know. He's not moving though."
It was the most severe test of his undercover abilities Hutch had ever undergone. He had to control his face so it would show no more than a stranger's concern for a fellow creature, rather than rush to his partner's side. He put his hands in his pockets and clenched his fists in helpless frustration.
"How did this happen?" Haley was demanding of the nearest crewmember.
"We were adjusting the lights and moving some of the equipment around and Bob asked him to help," the boy, who appeared to be about 18, answered. "There weren't enough of us around today to wrestle all this stuff, and he was just standing around like he was waiting for something -- "
"Get to the point!" Haley barked.
The boy blanched a bit, but nodded. "Anyway, he was helping Bob over there," he waved his hand to one side of the stage, "and the lights just fell and knocked him sprawling."
Hutch's heartbeat, already abnormally fast, sped up another notch. He was feeling faint and sick, but he didn't dare show it.
"That was inexcusably careless!" Haley scolded. "This man is not trained for this kind of work! Where's Bob?"
"Helping them," the boy said, indicating the paramedics.
"Get him. And find out how that poor man is," Haley directed.
The paramedics had Starsky on the stretcher at last, and Hutch could see that one whole side of his face was bloody. One of the paramedics was holding a handful of gauze against the side of Starsky's head. His partner's eyes were closed and the pallor of his face was ghostly.
Hutch watched helplessly as Starsky was rushed out of the tent and to the waiting ambulance. Oh, God, buddy, please be all right.
Bob approached, a big, burly, muscle-bound goon. Hutch's instincts warned him not to trust him even before Bob opened his mouth. He was obviously trying to look abashed, but it wasn't working.
"Why did you ask that man to help you, Bob?" Haley demanded. "You are head of the crew and you should only use properly trained people to do this work!"
"Yes, sir, Brother," Bob said, trying even harder to look ashamed of himself. "We were shorthanded today, and I know I shouldn't have asked him to help, but -- "
"But nothing, Bob," Haley said. "I expect you and the rest of the crew to pray for that man's life."
"Yes, we already have been," Bob said.
"And I'm going to have to think of a suitable punishment for your transgression," Haley said.
"Yes, sir. I understand." Bob ducked his head.
"Finish your work," Haley said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Bob walked away. Haley turned to Hutch. "Will you be at the service tonight?" he asked with a friendly smile, as if a man hadn't been severely injured here only moments ago.
"I -- I don't know," Hutch stammered, forcing his mind away from Starsky. "It depends on how well I feel."
Haley clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll pray that you can be here, Ken," he said. "I know this was upsetting, but we're all going to pray for Mr. Frank, too."
Hutch nodded, and slipped away, free at last to follow his partner to the hospital.
He'd overheard one of the paramedics saying they were taking Starsky to Receiving, so he sped across town to the hospital.
As soon as the Mercedes left the gravel parking lot, Haley beckoned to Bob. "He left here in a great hurry, don't you think?" he asked.
Bob gazed after the car, gone now, but it had left a cloud of dust behind it. "Yeah, he sure did."
"And I noticed he was very pale and upset when he saw that Mr. Frank had been injured," Haley went on.
Bob hadn't noticed that particularly, but Haley was a much better reader of faces than he was. Haley had to be. He shrugged. "If you say so."
"He was," Haley said. "I heard the ambulance attendants say they were taking Mr. Frank to Receiving Hospital. Do you know where that is?"
Bob nodded.
"Go over there and see if Mr. Halliday's car is in the lot. If it is, call me."
"Sure." Bob strolled out to his own car, a battered VW bug, and drove away. Haley sat down in one of the folding chairs to consider his next move. Most people wouldn't have noticed how upset Ken had been. He'd been trying very hard to hide it and doing a good job, too. But Haley had spent years learning to spot the subtle changes on people's faces, and he'd seen that Ken was terrified at the sight of Frank sprawled among the folding chairs, his face bloody.
The question was: Why? Why should Ken Halliday care that much about a freelance photojournalist he supposedly had never met before the revival?
He thought back to when each of the men had appeared. The crowds changed every night, it was true, though there was a core of regular attendees that came to almost every service. But he remembered that Frank and Halliday had both come for the first time on the same night. The Pulse had only approached him a day or two prior to that service about doing a story, and he'd agreed quite willingly, provided the stories were not the usual style of "it's religion so it can't be real" journalism. The Pulse's editor had assured him that the reporter they were sending was fair and open-minded and would report the story accurately, so Haley had agreed to give him full access.
If they knew each other before meeting here, Haley mused, then something was most definitely up.