The Devils We Know BOOK III. THE DEVILS WE DON'T KNOW. The Evil That Men Do BOOK IV. WHO IS YOUR MAKER? A House Divided Epilogue: A Letter from The Devil (to the President) About the Author # The Devil We Know. BOOK I. THE DEVILS WE KNOW. My name is Robert Blake, and you may have seen me on television if you happen to be a fan of the show _60 Minutes._ I'm an investigative reporter for that show. I specialize in cases where the authorities will not look, where no one has an interest in what really happened, such as what happened when I uncovered a widespread conspiracy of child abuse and murder in this town. It was an ugly story that was better left uncovered, I suppose, but I didn't have the power to stop it so I decided to expose it. That was a very controversial thing for me to do. People hated me for doing that. They were always telling me I was a traitor to my country and a devil in the eyes of God. But in this story I'm going to tell you about, there was a devil in the eyes of God long before I came along, and there will be one after I'm gone. That's why I thought it was important to expose what that devil did, even if it meant being ostracized for it. You see, that devil is not what he seems, and not what he does is either good or evil. He is simply someone who follows orders, so long as those orders are lawful, and he is loyal to the person who gave those orders, which is why I call him The Devil. I first saw The Devil while he was watching what I did on the nightly news. That was the night I went on television to report that he was in New Jersey, murdering boys in his basement, but that was just a lie he told to throw people off my trail, though it didn't work on my producer, Mike Saltzman. He was suspicious of me from the moment he saw my name on the paper the story was based on, but he trusted me enough to let me continue investigating with his support, even when the police gave up. That was right when he trusted me the most. When we finally brought him in, he smiled at me as he walked out the door and that's when I knew he was one of us. You know how some men smile at you when you greet them, as though they know something you don't? That's how The Devil smiled at me. I was always good at seeing people, at figuring out what they were thinking before they ever said a word, at reading their hearts and seeing the truth in their souls. It was one of my many talents, but this, this is the greatest, even if it's not a talent at all. It's knowledge. I just know things. But maybe this is my most dangerous skill because it is my most powerful. People don't like someone who knows what they're thinking before they do, especially if what they're thinking is a lie. I'm really sorry I hurt so many people, especially those who were hurt the worst, but I would have gone on telling that story, my story, if they had just let me. I never expected anyone to believe me, but it was important for people to understand what The Devil was really doing, and the more I investigated, the more I found out that the truth was much more complicated than people first thought, and even though I was going to reveal it, I wanted to wait until we had all the evidence. After all, the truth could not be made false, so all I did was wait. I could have just told it, but I knew the only way to protect people is to know something so awful, something so shocking, it just had to be a lie. So I waited until I had all the evidence. Then I told them. People who know me know that this is a story about me, but what they don't know is that I'm not really the main character. In fact, I didn't even write this book. It was the Devil who did that. It's his story and it's his name on the cover, but it's my story all the same. I'm really not like that. I'm really not a devil. That's not why he called me. That's not why I'm here talking to you. ## A Wider Audience On an unusually warm November night, the Devil awoke in his bed at the Motel of the Damned, where he resided. The room was always very cold. It was one of those places where the windows don't open, but not because of any safety issues but rather to keep out the light. The Devil lay awake for a while, watching the room around him as the light went from bright to black to brilliant again, changing from one moment to the next as though a child were standing at his bed telling ghost stories. He could hear the whispers and complaints of people who weren't satisfied with their room assignments, but he didn't care. He barely knew what was going on around him, anyway. He only cared about the people he was with now. He was always looking for new faces, and in that regard he had gotten quite good at it, having spent so many years traveling, following orders. You see, the Devil wanted things to move along as smoothly as possible, and when people tried to stop him, he either went to war or he had his people kill them. He rarely had to kill them himself because when people disobeyed his orders, they simply disappeared. But when he's dealing with the kind of people who make themselves be noticed, that meant he had to go all the way. He didn't like that, but he did it. The Devil's name was Mr. Ross, but that's not really his name. His name is Lucifer. That's what the Bible calls him. He has many names, and in some parts of the world, such as Latin America and Arabia, he's known as Mephistopheles. On the other hand, he's also known as Beelzebub in the Middle East, Buhl in Germany, and Samael in the Book of Enoch. He has many names because he has many faces. The Devil had a strange face, a perfect reflection of the black hole his soul was, a face that no one could see clearly because no one was looking at him, which was not uncommon, since he preferred to work alone, but sometimes people saw him. It happened because he was always traveling. Sometimes he traveled by foot and sometimes he traveled by car. It was the fastest way. He liked to move. When he traveled by car, he sat in the passenger seat, so no one knew he was there, but that could be dangerous because it could raise suspicion. If people knew you were with him, they might wonder what was going on. For that reason, he preferred to travel by foot. No one can see you in a car, and besides, a lot of people have cars. On the night of November 12, 2015, the Devil had made his way to a road outside the town of Mount Harmony, Pennsylvania. The sun had set and the weather was fine for such a late autumn evening in this part of the country. The Devil could tell by looking out his window that there were three people who were also on the same road. One of them was the Devil. He was looking for a certain kind of man to add to his collection. He had heard stories that there was one man in this town of three thousand who could never be killed, and it was these stories that had brought him to this place. There was a man behind the desk at the front desk of the Motel of the Damned. He was new. The Devil had never worked with him before, but he had been on some of his trips. His name was Mr. Blake. He was bald and thin, and he reminded the Devil of a vampire if a vampire could be thought of as resembling someone who would go to a motel for the night. Mr. Blake was new, which meant he hadn't been here long enough to learn the ropes. The Devil walked right up to him without saying a word, as though he were part of the building, as though his presence was no more notable than that of the man behind the desk, as though he were just another man who needed something from this place. As far as Mr. Blake was concerned, that's exactly what he was. "Have you got a room for one?" the Devil asked him. Mr. Blake smiled at him, just as Mr. Ross smiled at all those who asked him the same question. The Devil could never tell if people were being disrespectful or cordial, or if they were being sincere, so he always smiled. He always smiled so he wouldn't have to say something he might regret later. "I'm sorry," Mr. Blake said. "We've already filled that room." The Devil frowned, disappointed. He knew the next room was taken, but he couldn't help being surprised. Mr. Blake pulled a card out of the top drawer of his desk and slid it across the counter for the Devil to take. He wanted to find some new business before the Devil went back to his room at the Motel of the Damned. He knew better than to make him wait too long, so he picked up his