Page 12 of Charlie
“What’s his name?”
“Nathan. He’s fourteen.”
“How did his mom die?”
“Suicide. I’m trying to get more information. Honest to God, I didn’t know we had a cult in Dublin. It’s scary.” It was fascinating how such a severe subject seemed less threatening because of her up-and-down lilt with each word. “I mean, the more I dig around, the more I worry that I’ve fallen over a demon or somethin’.” She made the cross in front of her face. “That man, Bricks, he’s such a menace, ye know, like a weed that keeps poppin’ up in yer garden even though ye try to scrap it. When the English police had him on their radar, he just moved on.”
I remembered that Conor O’Brien’s real name was Conor Brick from the report, but I was getting nervous from the way Kit was driving through the narrow streets of the village, on the wrong side of the road.
My fingers folded around the panic handle on the door. “Where are we going?”
“I thought ye’d like to speak to one of the survivors yerself. There’s a woman whom I tracked down a few days ago, and awk… does she have stories to tell.”
“Can we trust her?”
“I would na bring ye to her if I didn’t think so. I’m cross-checking her stories and it’s good. Her name is Eileen and she got out of the cult about seven months ago.”
It took twenty minutes for us to reach Eileen, who lived with her grandmother in another village. The woman had a large overbite that made me think of Freddie Mercury. She was a bit plump and looked like a timid mouse.
“Won’t you come in and sit down?” She took us through the house to the kitchen, where tea stood ready on the small round dining table.
“Thank ye for seeing us.” Kit had already introduced us and was now sitting down, placing the case file in front of her. “Liv is goin’ to try and get a man named Charles out, so she can use all the help ye can give her.”
Eileen poured tea for us and spoke with a distinct British accent. “I wish someone had gotten me out a lot sooner.”
I gave her a sympathetic nod. “How long were you a member of the mastermind group?”
“About four years.”
“Can you tell me about the group?”
Setting the teapot down, Eileen sighed. “In the beginning, I loved it there. Everyone was so smart and articulate. They had ambitions of making the world a better place and I was flattered that I got to be part of this exclusive group. My friend had been talking about it for months as a secret society that guaranteed future success. I mean, the names of the alumni alone would make anyone desperate to join. According to my friend, O’Brien had worked with several public figures and people you see on TV. Of course, now I know most of those people were never members to begin with, but at the time I thought that his mastermind group was like a modern-day Illuminati for the gifted. My friend kept telling me that O’Brien would only invest his time in you if he thought you were special.”
Blowing down on her tea, Eileen muttered, “I wanted to feel special and so when one day the miracle happened and my friend was invited, I begged her to bring me along.”
Kit moved in her chair, “What was it like?”
“I think the best word to describe it would be a love-fest. It was the most welcoming atmosphere, with an interest in me as a person. All night, people would hang on my every word, laugh at my jokes, and make me feel more welcomed than ever in my life. And then there was Conor himself. The enigma of a man whom people were talking about like he was the new Messiah. The excitement I felt when he asked to speak with me and I was led to him…” Eileen sighed again. “That man has a way of looking into your soul and telling you exactly what you want to hear. It all resonated with me. I thought myself lucky to be invited into his mastermind group. He was going to make me into someone others wanted to be like. Not only would I help the world be a better place, but I would become one of the celebrities on TV. Someone with influence and followers.” She stopped talking for moment, a small frown on her face, as she looked down at the tea in her hands.
“How would he do that?” I asked.
“The way he described it was that the mastermind group was a network of carefully selected people, like a freemasonry group where everyone were brothers and sisters, sworn to secrecy. We were the enlightened ones with access to resources like no other. And he was right. Some of the people in the room were from affluent and influential families, and I wanted desperately to be part of their so-called family.”
“Did you come from money?” I asked.
“My family is wealthy, but nothing like some of the others. I think his interest in me was because of my connections. You see, I bragged to him that I’m related to the royal family on my mother’s side, which is true, but in my eagerness for him to like me, I exaggerated my family’s influence quite a bit.”
“What happened after you became one of his followers?”
Eileen blinked her eyes. “First of all, you have to understand that I never saw it like that. I never suspected that it was a cult and neither does your friend.”
I nodded for her to go on.
“In the beginning it was a dream come true. Our conversations in the group were deep and philosophical at times, but for the most part we shared knowledge with each other. Conor taught us how to be influential and read body language. He taught us NLP and the art of conversation and discussion.”
“What’s NLP?” Kit asked.
“Neurolinguistic Programming.”
