"The truth? About what?"
"About what's really going on in the world. Something that would help identify the powers, the planners, the string-pullers behind the mysteries and mayhem and secret organizations that plague the world." He held up his hands again. "Not my words—Roma's."
That rear door was calling like a siren.
"And who's this Roma?"
"Salvatore Roma came out of nowhere—actually he's a professor at some university in Kentucky—and got everybody fired up. He's been very helpful to Melanie in her research."
"I take it then that you're not into that stuff."
"Not like Melanie. I got involved out of pure curiosity—plus, attending the various gatherings and conventions around the country gave us an excuse to travel—but I've got to tell you, mister, after spending time with these people, I'm not so sure they're half as crazy as they're painted. And in some regards, I don't think they're crazy at all."
"It's called brainwashing," Jack said.
"Maybe. I don't say I'm immune to that. But Mel…Mel is so tough minded, it's hard to imagine her being brainwashed by anything or anybody."
"Does any of this have anything to do with Mel's disappearance?"
"I'm sure of it. You see, over the years Mel became convinced that none of the conflicting theories about secret societies and UFOs and the Antichrist and world domination conspiracies was completely right."
"I'm glad for that," Jack said.
"But she also thought that none of them was completely wrong. She figured each formed around a kernel of truth, a tiny piece of the big picture. She spent years analyzing them all, trying to come up with what she called her Grand Unification Theory."
"And?"
"And a couple of months ago she told me she believed she'd found it."
"And you're going to share it, right?"
"I wish I could. All she told me was that she'd identified a single heretofore unsuspected power behind all the world's mysteries and unexplained phenomena, something totally unrelated to current theories. She refused to say any more until she had absolute proof. That was the 'research' I mentioned before. She thought she'd found a way to prove her Grand Unification Theory."
"Let me guess: You think that she maybe did find this proof, and whoever's behind it all has abducted her."
More like a job for Mulder and Scully, Jack thought.
"That's a possibility, of course," Lew said, "but I'm afraid it might be something more mundane. And part of it might be Mel's fault. You see, she's been so excited about finally pulling her Grand Unification Theory together, that she's been sort of bragging."
"To whom?"
"To anyone who'll listen."
"But didn't you tell me you two have very few friends?"
"She's been bragging in the Usenet groups she participates in."
"Isn't that part of the Internet?"
Lew looked at him strangely. "You have a Web site and you don't know about Usenet groups?"
Jack shrugged. "I had a guy at my ISP throw it together. You didn't see many bells and whistles, right?" Christ, the designer had wanted to festoon the site with animated tools—bouncing screwdrivers, pirouetting pliers, slithering tool belts. Remembering the demo still made Jack shudder. "It's not there to impress anyone. It's just another way for customers to get in touch with me. And as for the rest of the Internet, I don't do much surfing. It's a black hole for time, and I've got other things to do. So…what's a Usenet group?"
"It's a kind of bulletin board divided into interest topics where people post messages, news, facts, theories, opinions. The Internet is loaded with conspiracy topics, and Mel visited them all regularly, mostly lurking. But recently she began posting and, uncharacteristically, bragging, saying how her Grand Unification Theory was going to 'blow all other theories out of the water.' She said she was going to reveal her findings at the first annual SESOUP conference."
"And that's bad?"
"Well, yes. I think someone in one of those Usenet groups is trying to silence her."
"That doesn't make sense. I thought these conspiracy nuts—sorry, no offense—were supposed to be looking for the truth that's presumably been hidden from them."
"That's what you'd think, of course. But once you've gotten to know these folks…well, you can see how some of them would feel threatened by a theory that proved theirs wrong, or worse yet, made theirs look foolish. You've got many people out there who've blamed all the problems in their lives on a certain conspiracy; some of them have built reputations in the conspiracy community by becoming experts on their section of the conspiracy landscape. Jack, these people live in that landscape, and the conspiracy community is all the social contact they've got. Someone like that wouldn't want to be proved wrong."
"Badly enough to move against your wife?"
"Loss of face, belief, support structure, status—think about it. That could be utterly devastating."
Jack nodded. Damn right. Take a guy who's not too tightly wrapped to start with, and a threat like that could completely unravel him.
Now we're getting somewhere, he thought.
If Lew had started insisting that his wife had been abducted by aliens, or fallen victim to a faceless bogeyman or agents of some all-powerful shadow government, Jack would be waving bye-bye now. He wasn't into chasing phantoms. But a bad guy who was a fellow conspiracy nut, maybe working alone or with one or two of his brother kooks—that sounded real. Jack could handle real.
"This Roma you mentioned—could he be a player in this?"
Lew shook his head. "I can't see how. He's been very supportive of Mel's research, and she's often credited him publicly for his help."
That still doesn't rule him out, Jack thought.
"Okay, then," Jack said. "If someone's got her, how did she call you?"
Lew looked away. "She didn't exactly call."
The guy looked positively embarrassed.
"Well then, how did she 'exactly' contact you?"
"Through the TV."
"Oh, hell."
"Listen to me," Lew said hurriedly, looking at Jack now. "Please, I'm not crazy. She spoke to me from my TV—I swear!"
"Right. And what were you watching—The X-Files?
"No. The Weather Channel."
Jack laughed. "Okay, who put you up to this? Abe? Julio? Whoever it is, you're good. You're very good."
"No, listen to me," he said, sounding frantic now. "I know how it sounds, but this is no joke and I am completely sane. I was sitting there with The Weather Channel on, not paying it much attention—when I'm alone I use it like Muzak, you know? Just to have something on. And I'm sitting there having my after-dinner coffee when suddenly I hear Melanie's voice. I jump up and look around but she's not there. Then I realize it's coming from the TV. The weather maps are running but the sound is gone and Melanie is talking to me, but she's talking like she's on a one-way line and only has a short time to speak."
"What did she say? Exactly."
Lew put his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. "Let me see if I can get this right. She said, 'Lew? Lew? Can you hear me? Listen carefully. I'm okay now, but I need help. I'm not where you can find me. Only Repairman Jack can find me. Only he will understand. You can find him on the Internet. Remember: only Repairman Jack and no one else. Hurry, Lew. Please hurry.' And then the weatherman's voice came back on and Mel was gone."
Jack hesitated. Every so often he ran into a potential customer who was missing a few buttons on his remote. The best thing was to let them down easy and not return any future calls.
"Well, Lew, I wish I could help you but—"