Gabriel had avoided telling anyone about his family, but now he couldn’t stop talking. He gave a few details about their life in South Dakota and described what his mother had said on her deathbed. Maggie had spent most of her life listening to her clients explain their crimes. She had trained herself not to reveal any skepticism until the story was finished.

“Is that all, Gabriel? Any other details?”

“That’s all I can remember.”

“You want some cognac?”

“Not right now.”

Maggie took out a bottle of French cognac and poured herself a drink. “I’m not going to discount what your mother told you, but it doesn’t relate to what I know. People usually get into trouble because of sex, pride, or money. Sometimes it’s all three things at the same time. This gangster Michael told you about-Vincent Torrelli-was killed in Atlantic City. From what you’ve told me about Michael, I think he might be tempted to accept some illegal financing and then figure out a way not to pay it back.”

“Do you think Michael’s all right?”

“Probably. They need to keep him alive if they want to protect their investment.”

“What can I do to help him?”

“You can’t do much of anything,” Maggie said. “So the question is-am I going to get involved in this? I don’t suppose you have any money?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“I do like you, Gabriel. You’ve never lied to me and that’s been a pleasure. I spend most of my time dealing with professional liars. It gets tiring after a while.”

“I just wanted some advice, Maggie. I’m not asking you to get involved with something that could be dangerous.”

“Life is dangerous. That’s what makes it interesting.” She finished her brandy and made a decision. “All right. I’ll help you. It’s a mitzvah, and I can display my unused maternal instincts.” Maggie opened a kitchen cabinet and took out a pill container. “Now humor me and take some vitamins.”

When Victory From Sin Fraser was eight years old, a cousin visiting Los Angeles told her about the brave Harlequin who had sacrificed himself for the Prophet. The story was so dramatic that she felt an immediate connection to this mysterious group of defenders. As Vicki grew older, her mother, Josetta, and her pastor, Reverend J. T. Morganfield, had tried to guide her away from an allegiance to Debt Not Paid. Vicki Fraser was usually an obedient servant of the church, but she refused to change her views on this one issue. Debt Not Paid became her substitute for drinking alcohol and sneaking out at night; it was her only real act of rebellion.

Josetta was furious when her daughter confessed that she had met a Harlequin at the airport. “You should be ashamed,” she said. “The Prophet said that it’s a sin to disobey your parents.”

“The Prophet also said that one can disobey small rules when following the larger will of God.”

“Harlequins have nothing to do with the will of God,” Josetta said. “They’ll slit your throat, then get angry because you’re bleeding on their shoes.”

The day after Vicki went to the airport, a truck from the electric power company appeared on their street. A black man and his two white partners began climbing poles and checking transmission lines, but Josetta wasn’t fooled. The fake employees took two-hour lunches and never seemed to finish their work. Throughout the day, one of them was always standing around, watching the Frasers’ house. Josetta ordered her daughter to stay inside and away from the telephone. Reverend Morganfield and other members of the church put on their best clothes and began to drop by the house for prayer meetings. No one was going to bust down the door and kidnap this maiden of the Lord.

Vicki was in trouble because she had helped Maya, but she didn’t regret it. People rarely listened to her, and now the whole congregation was talking about what she had done. Since she couldn’t go out, she spent most of her time thinking about Maya. Was the Harlequin safe? Had someone killed her?

Three days after her act of disobedience she was looking out the back window when Maya leaped over the fence. For a moment Vicki felt as if she had conjured up the Harlequin from her dreams.

As Maya walked across the lawn, she pulled an automatic pistol out of her coat pocket. Vicki pushed open the sliding glass door and waved her hand. “Be careful,” she said. “Three men are working out on the street. They act like they’re with the power company, but we think they’re Tabula.”

“Have they been inside the house?”

“No.”

Maya took off her sunglasses when she moved from the living room into the kitchen. The handgun disappeared into her pocket, but her right hand touched the top of the metal sword case hanging from her shoulder.

“Are you hungry?” Vicki asked Maya. “Can I make you breakfast?”

The Harlequin stood by the sink, her eyes scanning every object in the room. And Vicki saw the kitchen differently, as if for the first time in her life. The avocado green pots and pans. The plastic wall clock. The cute little farm girl standing at the ceramic well. Everything was ordinary and safe.

“Shepherd was a traitor,” Maya said. “He’s working for the Tabula. And you helped him. Which means you might be a traitor, too.”

“I didn’t betray you, Maya. I swear that in the name of the Prophet.”

The Harlequin looked tired and vulnerable. She kept glancing around the kitchen as if someone was going to attack her at any moment. “I don’t really trust you, but I don’t have many options at this point. I’m willing to pay for your assistance.”

“I don’t want Harlequin money.”

“It guarantees some loyalty.”

“I’ll help you for free, Maya. Just ask me.”

Looking at Maya’s eyes, Vicki realized that she was asking for something that was very difficult for a Harlequin to give. To ask for another person’s help required some degree of humility and an acknowledgment of your own weakness. The Harlequins were sustained by pride and their unshakable confidence.

Maya mumbled a few words, and then tried again, speaking very precisely. “I want you to help me.”

“Yes. I’d be glad to. Do you have a plan?”

“I have to find these two brothers before the Tabula capture them. You won’t have to touch a gun or a knife. You won’t have to hurt anyone. Just help me hire a mercenary who won’t betray me. The Tabula are very powerful in this country and Shepherd is helping them. I can’t do this alone.”

“Vicki?” Her mother had heard their voices. “What’s going on? Do we have visitors?”

Josetta was a big woman with a broad face. That morning she wore a forest green pants suit and the heart locket that held her deceased husband’s photograph. She entered the doorway, and then stopped when she saw the stranger. The two women glared at each other and, once again, Maya touched the sword case.

“Mother, this is-”

“I know who she is-a murderous sinner who has brought death into our lives.”

“I’m trying to find two brothers,” Maya said. “They might be Travelers.”

“Isaac T. Jones was the last Traveler. There are no others.”

Maya touched Vicki’s arm. “The Tabula are watching this house. Sometimes they have equipment that allows them to look through walls. I can’t stay here any longer. It’s dangerous for all of us.”

Vicki stood between her mother and the Harlequin. So much of her life had seemed hazy and vague until that moment, like an out-of-focus photograph in which blurry figures ran away from the camera. But now, right now, she had a real choice in her life. Walking is easy, said the Prophet. But it requires faith to find the right path.

“I’m going to help her.”

“No,” Josetta said. “I don’t give my permission.”

“I don’t need permission, Mother.” Vicki grabbed her purse and walked out into the backyard. Maya caught up with her when she reached the edge of the grass.