The man didn't react. Burden felt sorry for him. It wasn't much of a life, at least the way Burden measured it. Only a few things kept this man alive. And after all five of them were done, he would find solace in suicide. It was as predictable as night. Burden could hear it in his voice.
But Burden knew that was unfair. One man measuring another man's life was always unfair, or unbalanced, or a misunderstanding. In reality you never knew what another man's life was like, and even if you thought you knew, you wouldn't get it right. You never knew, because the only thing you had to measure by was your own life, and that was such a limited thing. You had to live a long time in your imagination to approach another man's life with any sympathy or genuine understanding at all.
Burden thought of Lucia; he didn't know why. He thought of her looking through the viewfinder of her Hasselblad, the world upside down, but even so she understood it and recorded it through a lens of kindness that in itself was misunderstood. He was curious that the man had asked about her. He was curious about it, and he wasn't. Men who lived on the cusp of hell sometimes tended to be sensitive to kindness. It was a little-known fact about great sinners. It was often misunderstood, mostly by people who mistakenly believed they had little in common with those who were lost.
“It's Tano Luquin, ”Burden said. “I've found him.” The man quit breathing. The movement in his sternum just stopped. Slowly he turned to wax, and his eyes became glass. Though he had been perspiring before, now he began to glisten profusely, as if overwhelming emotion had sucked away his breath and condensed it within him into an oleaginous concentrate that now oozed from every pore.
Then something caught Burden's eye. On the man's shoulder the fly had crept to the cusp of the relief of trapezius. It had stopped, its black head only just emerging from the verge of the shallow. And there it waited.
Chapter 40
“I don't know what to think, ”Rita said. Norlin had left soon after finishing his story of Mourad Berkat, and she had gone straight to the sink to run a glass of water while Titus had walked out to Norlin's car with him. Now he was gone, and Titus had just come in through the kitchen door. Rita was standing with the back of her hips against the sink, the glass of water in one hand, her hand on her hip.
Titus looked at her and shook his head, then went straight to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of beer. He popped the top off with a bottle opener and took a long drink. Feeling weary, he sat on one of the stools at the island, put the bottle down, and rubbed his face and eyes with both hands.
“I'll tell you something, ”he said. “That was a pretty damned surprising story. But you know, it shouldn't have been. Garcia told us himself-in so many words-what he does. Face it, Rita, we're pretty naive about these things. We're just… naive.”
“I don't think Mr. Norlin picked that anecdote randomly, as he claimed, ”Rita said. “It's tied to what's happening now. Something else is going on with Luquin.”
“Yeah, I'm sure there is. We'd be not only naive, but stupid to think there wasn't. Hell, Garcia told us that. We're just a piece of this story. As grim as it is for us, it gets worse the more you know.”
He stared out at the veranda. For the first time in a couple of days, he thought about the dogs. Shit. How many years ago had that been?
“That woman, ”Rita said, “and those children…”
He knew what was coming.
“That make you think of us? ”she asked.
“Yeah, ”he said honestly, “it did.”
“What if he wants Luquin as desperately as he wanted that Algerian man?”
“You want me to be honest with you, ”he said, pulling his eyes away from the veranda to her, “he probably does.”
She stared at him. Rita could deal with shock. She would pull herself together and deal with it.
“I think that's part of what Norlin was telling us, ”Titus said, “leaving it up to us to read between the lines. Maybe he didn't know what or how much Garcia had told us, but I think he was trying to get us to understand the scope of our situation. That it's not just about us.
“But that's not all there is to it, ”he went on. “This isn't the same kind of situation. Just imagine… the names on that list. Those men… every circumstance is different. They're scattered all over the world, live in all kinds of situations, in caves, in mansions. Some educated and intellectual, some ignorant. It's got to be unbelievably complex. I think we'd be making a terrible mistake to think that every one of these situations is the same, that we can predict the way one plays out based upon the way that another one played out.
“I'll tell you something, ”he said, turning toward her. “It probably would've been easier on us in some ways if we'd known this much truth-I won't say the whole truth, but this much, at least-going into this. But he couldn't tell us. And if we hadn't been on the verge of blowing this thing apart, he wouldn't have told us when he did. Jesus, think of what's going on here.”
He took another long drink of the beer. It was cold. It was good. And it reminded him of before all this, when evil was something in books or movies, when life was simple, and he didn't even know it.
He went on. “But I've got to say, as scared as I am, knowing what we know now has put a different twist on this thing. If this is what Garcia and Norlin say it is… we've got to hang in here. We've even got… I don't know… an obligation, to work with these guys.”
“An obligation to help them assassinate someone? ”Rita was incredulous.
Titus focused on her.
“Think about it, Rita. If they're telling us the truth, do you feel good about working against them?”
“Well, I don't feel good about helping them.”
“Exactly.”
“And you keep saying ‘if’they're telling us the truth.”
“Look, Rita. There's nothing… nothing… we can do about being in a hell of a situation here. We've just got to do the best we can. I know that sounds lame, but what in the hell other answers do you have?”
Through the kitchen window he saw Kal making his way through the wrought-iron gate in the stone wall that led to the pool and come across the courtyard to the veranda.
It was midafternoon. It seemed an eternity until dark, yet at the same time, it all seemed to be hurtling along so fast that everything could easily fly out of control.
The door from the veranda opened and Kal stepped in.
“Excuse me, ”he said. “Ryan and I are going to take a look around. Janet's on her way in here from the other side of the house.”
“Okay, thanks, ”Titus said. He walked to the door and watched the two men through the window, striding quickly down the allee of laurels, their MP5s strapped over their shoulders in plain sight.
“Routine stuff, ”Janet said, walking into the kitchen as Titus was looking out. “It always takes a while before you feel entirely comfortable in a new situation, ”she added by way of a casual explanation. All three of the bodyguards belonged to the “never show concern because it scares the client ”school.
Titus watched them until they disappeared around the knoll.
“It's a big place, ”he said. “There's a lot to get comfortable with.”
“They're used to it, ”Janet said. “And they like it, which is even more important. ”She turned her head, tilting it slightly toward her earpiece, and then looked at Titus.
“Kal wants you to come down to the orchard.”
Titus looked out and saw him coming back around the knoll at the far end of the allee. He went outside and headed down to meet him.
“You been taking pictures down here lately? ”Kal asked, putting his foot up on a boulder at the edge of the trees as he retied his shoelaces.
“Pictures?”
“Yeah, down here. ”He lifted the other foot and retied that shoelace as well. Titus saw his earpiece and the tiny mike hugging his cheek and curving around toward his mouth.
“No.”
