Do Not Go Gentle by James W. Jorgensen Page A

beauty.”
    â€œYou wish, Cushing. You wish.”
    Jamie and Cal entered a large, open room, with cushions on the window seats at street side and a gleaming mahogany floor. Across the room was a massive cherry workstation, staffed by a stunning dark-haired woman with Mediterranean features and a fabulous figure. “Can I help you gentlemen?” she asked, with a musical lilt.
    â€œSo much for some unobtrusive reconnaissance,” muttered Cal softly.
    â€œYeah, well, we do what we can,” replied Jamie just as softly, and then he held up his badge as he and Cal crossed the room. “I hope so, miss,” he replied in a louder voice. “I’m Jamie Griffin, and this is my partner, Cal Cushing. We’re with the Boston Police Department.”
    The woman, whose nametag read Aaliyah, did not just acquiesce to the sight of badges, as most people would. Instead, she calmly held out her hand. Jamie handed over his badge, as did Cal. After examining them for several seconds, the receptionist handed them back. “I hope you detectives aren’t offended—I’ve been instructed to check the identity of any official visitors.”
    â€œReally?” replied Jamie. “So security is pretty tight around here?”
    â€œNo, but the head of our order, the
Ganzibra
, does not wish to have the privacy of our adherents violated in any way.” She smiled as she handed the badges back to Jamie and Cal. “I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
    â€œSomewhat,” replied Cal. Without even thinking, they had slipped into the role of
good-cop—bad-cop
. While Cal would not be too aggressive, he would ask the tougher questions and Jamie would try to act as the conciliator. The technique worked about as well with the average person as with suspects—sometimes great, sometimes not at all, “but we need to ask some questions, so if the ‘zebra’ guy is available, we really need to speak with him. It’s important.”
    Aaliyah’s smile froze into place, losing all warmth. “Very well, gentlemen. If you will have a seat, I will see if the
Ganzibra
has time to meet with you.” She gestured to a set of overstuffed chairs to the side of the room.
    â€œThat would be great, miss. Thank you,” said Jamie. As they were walking to the chairs, he whispered to Cal, “Zebra?
Zebra
? Good one, Cushing.”
    â€œHey, just playing my part,” Cal whispered back.
    They took seats on either side of a wooden table that had literature spread out atop it. They each took samples of the material, ranging from specific topics, such as “Who Are the Disciples of Endor?” to more general topics such as “Why Today’s World is Failing Us.” They placed the brochures into their portfolios.
    After several minutes, Aaliyah sauntered back into the room, put her hand on one hip, and said, “You gentlemen are fortunate. The
Ganzibra
is available. He will see you now. Follow me, please.” Without waiting, she turned and started walking down the hallway just behind her desk.
    â€œMan, I could follow her
anywhere
,” murmured Cal. “
I
shoulda been the good cop this time—you’re a happily married man.”
    â€œDon’t flatter yourself, Cushing” Jamie whispered back. “She’s playing in the major leagues while you’re still trying to get out of Little League.”
    Cal had to bite off any retort as they caught up with Aaliyah and followed her down the hallway. As they entered, Aaliyah held up her hand and ushered them into the room. “Detectives, may I introduce you to Achan ibn Ezra, the
Ganzibra
of the Disciples of Endor.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned sharply on a stiletto heel and walked back out of the office.
    ibn Ezra’s office was appointed much like the outer room, but the décor was much more lush. The office had tall windows lining the outer walls,