Think Of a Number (2010) by John Verdon Page A

unusual number of emotional problems.”
    “So who
does
come here?”
    “People with money, looking for peace of mind.”
    “Do they get it?”
    “I believe they do.”
    “In addition to
rich
and
anxious
, what other words describe your clientele?”
    Mellery shrugged. “Insecure, despite the aggressive personality that goes with success. They don’t like themselves—that’s the main thing we deal with here.”
    “Which of your current guests do you think is capable of physically harming you?”
    “What?”
    “How much do you know for certain about each of the people currently staying here? Or the people who have reservations for the coming month?”
    “If you’re talking about background checks, we don’t do them. What we know is what they tell us, or what the people who referthem tell us. Some of it is sketchy, but we don’t pry. We deal with what they are willing to tell us.”
    “What sorts of people are here right now?”
    “A Long Island real-estate investor, a Santa Barbara housewife, a man who may be the son of a man who may be the head of an organized-crime family, a charming Hollywood chiropractor, an incognito rock star, a thirty-something retired investment banker, a dozen others.”
    “These people are here for
spiritual renewal?”
    “In one way or another, they’ve discovered the limitations of success. They still suffer from fears, obsessions, guilt, shame. They’ve found that all the Porsches and Prozac in the world won’t give them the peace they’re looking for.”
    Gurney felt a little stab, being reminded of Kyle’s Porsche. “So your mission is to bring serenity to the rich and famous?”
    “It’s easy to make it sound ridiculous. But I wasn’t chasing the smell of money. Open doors and open hearts led me here. My clients found
me
, not the other way around. I didn’t set out to be the guru of Peony Mountain.”
    “Still, you have a lot at stake.”
    Mellery nodded. “Apparently that includes my life.” He stared into the sinking fire. “Can you give me any advice about handling tonight’s phone call?”
    “Keep him talking as long as you can.”
    “So the call can be traced?”
    “That’s not the way the technology works anymore. You’ve been watching old movies. Keep him talking because the more he says, the more he may reveal and the better chance you may have of recognizing his voice.”
    “If I do, should I tell him I know who he is?”
    “No. Knowing something he doesn’t think you know could be an advantage to you. Just stay calm and stretch out the conversation.”
    “Will you be home tonight?”
    “I plan to be—for the sake of my marriage, if nothing else. Why?”
    “Because I just remembered that our phones have another fancy feature we never use. The trade name is ‘Ricochet Conferencing.’ What it lets you do is bring another party into a conference call after someone has called you.”
    “So?”
    “With ordinary teleconferencing, all the participants need to be dialed from one initiating source. But the Ricochet system gets around that. If someone calls you, you can add other participants by dialing them from your end without disconnecting the person who called you—in fact, without them even knowing you’re doing it. The way it was explained to me, the call to the party to be added goes out on a separate line, and after the connection is made, the two signals are combined. I’m probably botching up the technical explanation—but the point is, when Charybdis calls tonight, I can dial you into it and you can hear the conversation.”
    “Good. I’ll definitely be home.”
    “Great. I appreciate that.” He smiled like a man experiencing momentary relief from chronic pain.
    Out on the grounds, a bell rang several times. It had the strong, brassy ring of an old ship’s bell. Mellery checked the slim gold watch on his wrist.
    “I have to prepare for my afternoon lecture,” he said with a little sigh.
    “What’s your topic?”
    Mellery