Steinberg frowned. 'I thought you didn't want to -'
'I changed my mind. I want to do it. In the Venetian Theatre. As quickly as we can put it together.'
'It'll take time,' Steinberg said. 'Three months, maybe.'
'No. That's too long. Half of that, if not sooner.'
'My God, Dennis, you're talking about staging a major production.”
“You said before that it would be easy.'
'With time, yes. But doing it so quickly – it would cost twice, three times as much as it would otherwise.'
'I have the money. I'm not concerned.'
'There's not much room for profit.'
'I don't care about profit, I just want to do it.' Dennis spat the words out, and Steinberg seemed to recoil before them. 'Do I still run this business, John?”
“Of course you do.'
'Then don't fight me. Just do what I ask.' He turned to Ann. 'I'll take you back to your car, Ann.' He turned and walked down the hall. Ann followed.
'Why, Dennis?' she asked him on the way to the parking lot. 'I know there must be a reason.'
'There's a reason,' he said. 'It's killed the people I love, and it showed Evan something, something that terrified him, that nearly killed him. I have to destroy it, Ann. If not destroy it, then bring it back into me, at least those parts that it stole from me. I have to fight it. It's the only way to stop it, the only way to… to get back my soul.'
'But doing the show – A Private Empire?…'
'I lost myself playing the Emperor. And I think that playing the Emperor again is the only way I can get myself back. If I can somehow
… revive those emotions, maybe I can weaken him instead of his weakening me.'
'But you don't know,' she said, standing by his car. 'It could be just what he wants – for you to be the Emperor again. Maybe there's some sort of psychic link there. Maybe, if you become the Emperor again, he'll just become stronger as a result.'
Dennis sighed, and pulled up the collar of his coat against a light rain that had just begun to fall. 'Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm playing right into its hands. But it's the only thing I can think of. All I know is that it came out of me, and that it's part of me, and that this is what I think is the right thing to do. I think my strength can destroy it. And I think I can be strong again.' They got into the car and sat there for a moment, the only sound the patter of raindrops on the roof.
'My outburst at John just now,' Dennis finally said. 'I'm not proud of it, but I haven't gotten angry at him for a long time, not him or anyone. And maybe that's a sign, an indication that I still have the emotions that fuel the Emperor. Or that I can get them back from time to time.'
He thought for a moment. 'I wonder,' he said quietly, 'if when I get angry, or when I feel deep emotion, he loses something.' The tempo of the rain had gradually increased until Ann could barely hear him as he said, 'I wonder, if I felt enough, if he would lose… everything.'
When they arrived back at the theatre, the rain was driving down. Dennis drove next to Ann's car so that she was able to step directly from one to another. She had promised to go to New York with him, and he told her he would call her the next day to make arrangements.
He didn't want her to see him go back into the theatre, so he waited until she had driven away before he pulled his car up in front of the main entrance. As he did, Dan Munro and his men came out the door. Dennis joined them under the marquee. Rain spat down around them, and Munro nodded in greeting.
'How's your son?'
'He'll be all right,' Dennis said. 'A severe asthma attack. I'm glad you were there to help. Thank you.'
'I'm glad we were there too.' He gestured toward the theatre. 'We've been through the whole place, top to bottom. All the suites, all the rooms upstairs, even the closets. We went into the ceiling, down in the cellars, everywhere, and the only thing alive in there was the cat. I think if you change those locks you'll be a lot safer.'
'Thanks, Chief,' Dennis said. 'I appreciate the search, and I will have the locks changed. While we're away.'
'You're leaving?'
'We're going back to New York for a while. We'll rehearse a show there, then come back in a month or two. I just want to get a few things, then I'll lock up.”
“All right, Mr. Hamilton. Be careful, huh?'
'I will.' Dennis watched as they crossed the street and got into their car. Then he entered the building, locking the outer door behind him, and walked into the lobby.
Even inside, Dennis could hear the sound of the rain, and distant thunder. Even inside, in the warmth, he shivered. He had come back to see the thing one final time before he went away. Though it had destroyed those he loved, he had to see it again, had to speak to it, had to watch and listen and learn if it had weaknesses of which he was not aware. It was his last opportunity to find out, for when he returned, there would be no time to learn, only to fight.
He had no fear, however, that it would harm him now. It needed him too much to do that. He was its food, its source of life. Somehow he felt that it was still a child, not yet ready to be on its own, to become Dennis Hamilton, if indeed it ever would be, if it were truly more than some demon sent to torment him.
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and walked across the lobby toward the doors to the theatre. If it would be anywhere, it would be there on the stage where it had been given birth. He pushed the doors open gently, and saw that the work lights were on, bathing the stage in a dim glow. He stepped into the inner lobby and saw the cat, Cristina, sitting, its tail wrapped around it, at the head of the aisle. For a moment it watched him with an eerie intelligence, then turned and padded down the aisle, past the orchestra pit, and up the steps to the stage. There it walked regally to the exact center, and sat once again.
And the Emperor was there. There was no slow appearance like a ghost coming into view. One moment he was not there, and the next moment he was. It was startling, and Dennis's breath caught in his throat.
THE EMPEROR
Good evening. (He smiles smugly.)
DENNIS
(Walking slowly down the aisle) What did you do? What did you do to my son?
THE EMPEROR
Merely had him follow in his father's – or purported father's – footsteps. I gave him an audience. They were appreciative, but he had a bad case of stage fright. Has he recovered?
DENNIS
Yes. He'll be fine.
THE EMPEROR
Ah. A pity. I thought he would die. And he would have had it not been for his timely rescue by the police. Still, it is of no importance. You grow weaker by the day, even with your… son alive .
DENNIS
Why do you say that? What did you mean, my purported son?
THE EMPEROR
(Mock surprise) You mean that you didn't know? That the bad news must come from me? (Sighs) So be it then. Little Evan is not your offspring. He's Sidney's son. Sidney, you see, fucked your wife.
DENNIS
That's a lie.
THE EMPEROR
It's not.
DENNIS
Evan looks exactly like me.
THE EMPEROR
A remarkable coincidence, is it not? And a quite fortunate one for Sid. I'm sure that his grandfather must
