I'm God

‘The lives of thousands of people.’

He had repeated that last phrase to make sure the idea was as clear to them as it was to him. Then he reinforced it with a statement that was as difficult to say as it was to accept.

‘If what I’m thinking is correct, Saturday’s explosion is only the first in a long series.’

He got to his feet and took a few steps around the room.

‘For a whole series of reasons, one of which is pure chance, I’ve chosen Detective Light and you to tell this to. But it’s not my intention to keep any information to myself that could save the lives of so many people. I could go to the FBI, but I think it’s best if everything starts here, in this room.’

He came back to the desk, put his hands on the desktop and leaned slightly towards the captain.

It was his turn now to look the other man in the eyes.

‘All I want is your word that you’ll let me follow the investigation at close quarters.’

Russell knew there was a long-standing rivalry between the various investigating bodies. And he knew the biggest was between the NYPD and the FBI. Captain Bellew seemed like a good cop and a good man. But he was still a human being. The idea that his precinct could solve this case and get the credit for it had to weigh heavily with him.

The captain pointed to the chair. ‘Sit down.’

Russell did as he was told. Captain Bellew waited until he was seated before speaking.

‘All right. You have my word of honour that, if what you have to say is of interest to us, I’ll let you follow the investigation. But if I find you’ve made us waste our time, I’ll personally kick you down the stairs.’

A pause. They looked at each other to seal their pact – and accept its possible consequences.

‘Now talk.’

The captain motioned to Vivien, who had been silent so far, listening to the conversation from her position next to the desk. Russell realized that from now on she would be leading the way.

Which was what she did.

‘What’s your connection with Ziggy Stardust?’

‘For reasons of my own, I was at his place on Saturday afternoon.’

‘What kind of reasons?’

Russell Wade shrugged. ‘You know me. And I think you know Ziggy and what he did. For now, can I just say the reason doesn’t matter?’

‘Go on.’

‘Ziggy lived in a basement apartment. When I got to his place and turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I saw a man in a military jacket start up the stairs at the other end of the corridor. He seemed to be in a hurry. I thought he was a customer of Ziggy’s who couldn’t wait to get out of there.’

‘Would you be able to recognize him?’

Russell was favourably impressed by the young woman’s transformation. She had gone from being a mere spectator to being the person who asked the questions, and it was clear she knew her business.

‘I don’t think so. I didn’t see his face. He was of average build, I’d say. He could have been anyone.’

‘What did you do then?’

‘Ziggy’s door was open, and I went in. He was still alive, but there was blood all over him. On his pants, on the front of his shirt. It was even coming out of his mouth. He was trying to stand up and get to the printer.’

The captain interrupted at this point. ‘The printer?’

Russell nodded. ‘That’s what he did. I also wondered why. He grabbed hold of me and pressed a button on the printer. There was this orange light flashing, like when there’s no paper and the machine goes on stand by.’

‘And then?’

‘With his last strength he took the sheet of paper that had just been printed and put it in my hand. Then he slid to the floor and died.’

Russell paused a moment. Neither of the two police officers said or did anything to make him continue.

‘When that happened, I panicked. I stuffed the paper in my jacket pocket and ran out. I know I should have called the police, but I was scared. I thought the killer might come back. When I got home, I saw the explosion on the Lower East Side from the windows of my apartment and everything else went out of my mind. Once I’d calmed down a bit, I remembered the paper in my pocket and took a look at it. It was a photocopy, clearly part of a longer letter, because it begins and ends in mid-sentence. It’s handwritten, and quite difficult to read with all the bloodstains on it.’

Once more, Russell paused. When he spoke again, his tone was that of a man who couldn’t, in spite of everything, quite believe what had happened.

‘I had to read it twice before I realized what it meant. And when I did realize, I felt as if the whole world had come crashing down on my head.’

‘What on earth was in it?’

Russell Wade put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket, took out a sheet of paper folded in four, and held it out to Vivien. ‘Here it is. This is a photocopy of the original. Read it for yourself.’

Vivien took it, opened it and started reading. By the time she got to the end, her face was white and her lips drawn. Without a word, she passed the paper to the captain.

and that’s why I left. So now you know who I am andwhere I’m from, just as you know who you are. As yousee, my story didn’t take long to tell, because after awhile not much happened to me. But it was difficult totell, because it was difficult to live through. During mylife, I couldn’t pass anything on to anyone. I preferred tokeep my resentment and hate to myself. Now that thecancer has done its work and I’m on the other side, I canpass something on to you, the way every father should doto his son and I should have done a long time ago butcouldn’t. I never had much money. All I had, minus thefuneral expenses, is here in the envelope, in thousand-dollar bills. I’m sure you’ll make good use of it. All mylife, before and after the war, I worked in the construction industry. When I was young and working for a manwho was like a father to me, I learned to use explosivesfor demolition. The army taught me the rest. All the timeI was working in New York, I hid bombs in many of theplaces I helped to build. TNT and napalm. I learnedabout napalm the hard way. I’d have liked to be the oneto blow them up, but seeing as how you’re reading thesewords it means life, and my lack of courage, decidedotherwise. In this letter I’ve put the addresses of thebuildings that have been mined and instructions on howto blow them up in my place. If you do that, you’ll beavenging me. Otherwise I’ll just be one of the manyvictims of the war who never had the consolation ofjustice. I recommend you learn the addresses and thetechnical details by heart and then destroy this letter.The first building is on the Lower East Side, on 10thStreet at the corner of Avenue D. The second

That was where the letter ended. The captain, too, was white by the time he had finished reading. He put the sheet of paper down, put his elbows on the desk, and hid his face in his hands. His voice was muffled as he made one last attempt to convince himself that what he had just read wasn’t true.