Prine was excited. He faced one of the cameras and said, 'Remember, New
York, you heard it and saw it here first.' He turned back to Graham and
said, 'Who is he killing?' He was suddenly charged with ghoulish
.Inticipation.
'A woman. Green eyes. Pretty.'
'What's her name?'
Perspiration trickled into the corners of Graham's eyes and stung them.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand-and wondered how foolish
he looked to the hundreds of thousands who were watching.
'Can you tell me her name?' Prine asked.
Edna ... pretty littleEdna ... poor little Edna....
'Edna,' Graham said.
'Last name?'
'I don't ... can't see it!'
'Try. You must try.'
'Maybe ... dancer.'
'Edna Dancer?'
'I don't . maybe not... maybe the dancer part isn't right ...
maybe just... just the Edna 'Reach for it'l Prine said. Try harder.
Can't you force it out?'
'No use!' His name 'Daryl ... no ... Dwight!'
'Like Dwight Eisenhower?'
'I'm not certain that it's actually his first name ... Or even first or
Last... but people have Called him that ...
Dwight ... yes... and he's answered to it!' ,Incredible,' prine said,
apparently having forgotten that he had been in the process of
destroying his guest's reputation. 'Do you see his other name, first or
last?' -No. But I sense ... the police already know him ...
somehow ... and they ... they know him well.'
,You mean that he's already a suspect?' Prine asked.
The cameras seemed to move in closer.
Graham wished they would go away. He wished prine would go away.
He should never have come here tonight. Most of all, he wished his
clairvoyant powers would go away, vanish back into that locked box deep
within his mind from which they had been sprung by the accident.
'I don't know,' Graham said. 'I suppose ...
he must be a suspect. But whatever the situation ... they know him.
They-' He shuddered.
'What is it?' Prine asked.
'Edna ...
'Yes?'
'She's dead now.'
Graham felt as if he were going to be sick.
'Where did it happen?' Prine asked.
Graham sank back in his armchair, struggling to keep control of himself.
He felt almost as if he were Edna, as if the knife had been plunged into
him.
'Where was she murdered?' Prine asked again.
'In her apartment.'
