left of it, within the room, and stand there with his back to the wall, the doorway just past his right elbow.
Jessup shouted, “Put out the light! Get to the bottom of the stairs and wait for him, in case he gets away from me!”
Would Manny do it? Or would Manny just prop himself on his elbow on the bed and gaze blearily at the doorway in the candlelight, and gradually just sink down again and forget all about it?
There were no more answers from downstairs, only the first muffled question. Jessup didn’t shout any more instructions; either he was sure Manny would do what he was told, or he wanted Parker to think he was. In either case, Manny’s one return shout had told Jessup that Manny was still alive and all right, that Parker had not already taken him out of the play.
Everybody was silent for a while now. Parker had kept his eyes on the smudgy rectangles of the windows. Jessup had been in front of the one on the left, and had disappeared from that one without having gone past the one on the right. Which meant that Jessup was somewhere in the left side of the room. Coming this way? Staying in one spot?
If he were going to get out of the room, he had two choices. He could either work his way around the wall, in which case he would run into Parker just before he reached the door, or he could get down on hands and knees and crawl to the door, in which case there was the slight possibility that he would get by Parker; but it was very slight. And in any case, Parker was getting to know Jessup better now, and he had the feeling Jessup wouldn’t crawl to the door. Just as he wouldn’t have gone up the stairs on all fours, though that was the best way to do it.
Jessup was half-good, which is the other side of being half-assed. He knew how to do some things right, but he wasn’t careful enough, he didn’t follow through on the reasons for doing this or that or the other. He would be one of those people who live their lives as a movie, in which they star and direct and write the story. That kind goes for drama, like traveling with a Manny. Or the way they handled Keegan. Or what they did to Claire with Morris’ body. And a man like that won’t crawl across a floor to a doorway, not if his life depends on it.
That was the edge Parker had; he knew that survival was more important than heroics. It isn’t how you play the game, it’s whether you win or lose.
A wristwatch with a radium dial. Parker looked at it, a faint green circle swimming in the darkness over there, and waited for the time it counted to make Jessup do something stupid.
Stupid like the watch.
They had been stalemated for about ten minutes now. Jessup had spoken once, seven or eight minutes ago, saying, “Don’t try to convince me you aren’t here. I know you are.” But at that time he hadn’t shifted so that the radium dial was showing yet, so Parker hadn’t moved while he’d talked, simply,looked at the place the voice was coming from, to know where Jessup was.
It was in the same area that the green circle, two or three minutes after that, swam to the surface. Whatever position Jessup was standing in, it pointed that circle directly at Parker. Occasionally the thing dove back into the darkness, as Jessup moved—silently—one way or another, shifting position, but it always came back again, and Parker watched it, and waited for Jessup to do something stupid.
It would have a sweep second hand, that watch. By now Jessup would be feeling every second.
There had been no further sound or movement from downstairs. Had Manny heard Jessup? Had he done what Jessup wanted, or had he smiled and nodded and stayed lying there on the bed? Or was he coming upstairs, slowly so as not to make any noise, to find out what was going on? Parker’s right elbow extended into the doorway area, to warn him if anyone tried to move in or out.
From the location of the green circle swimming there, Jessup wasn’t against a wall. Unless he had a piece of furniture to lean on, he would be feeling tired by now.
“You still there, Parker? It is Parker, isn’t it?”
Parker took a sliding step forward while Jessup talked. He stopped when Jessup was silent.
The silence this time lasted no more than thirty seconds. “You’re the last one, you know that?” Jessup was trying to sound cocky and humorous, but he was nerved up and the sound of it was in his voice. “Did you see what we did to your friend Keegan? And Morris? Briley’s dead in the woods someplace, did you know that?”
Parker had covered half the distance to the watch; simultaneously, Jessup stopped talking and the watch disappeared. Parker stayed where he was.
The watch came back, disappeared again, came back again. Jessup was gesturing while he talked, making gestures in the dark. “You don’t fool me, I know you’re in this room. I can feel you. What do you think I am, a punk like Manny? A punk like you people?”
Parker was almost close enough to touch him. Another pace. Jessup was silent, and Parker stood there, looking forward into the darkness, knowing Jessup’s head was just there, a few inches beyond arm’s reach. He waited.
Was Jessup finished talking? Parker breathed shallowly through his nose; the automatic was away in its holster under his left arm, but his right hand hovered near it, in case things turned that way.
“You want to wait till daylight. That’s okay with—”
Parker’s left hand touched shirt, snaked upward, the fingers closed around throat. His right hand came around, closed, and when he hit he felt Jessup’s teeth against his knuckles.
Jessup was making a high gargling sound, and thrashing like a spider stuck through with a pin. Parker hit him again, holding him in place with the left hand around Jessup’s neck, hitting at the face in the darkness.
Fingers crawled along Parker’s left arm, hurrying toward his head. Parker stepped in close and brought his knee up and felt it hit. But Jessup wrapped his arms around Parker’s waist and lunged forward, and his weight forced Parker to take a backward step. His shin hit something, a chair or table or part of a bed, and his balance was gone, and the two of them toppled over through darkness and hit the floor.
Parker’s first grip was lost. He couldn’t let Jessup get free, he had to know where he was. He slapped outward, and touched cloth, and clung to it. Hands punched at him, they both shifted and rolled on the floor, their feet kicking at anonymous pieces of furniture, and suddenly they rolled directly into one another and both grabbed for leverage and control.
It was weight that made the difference. Parker was a little heavier, a little stronger, a little more sure of
