show ended and you hadn’t taken her call, she’d go into the bathroom, look in the mirror and then watch herself put the barrel of her gun in her mouth.
“A month ago, I…she almost pulled the trigger. She stared at her reflection for what seemed like hours. Then on the radio, she heard Charlie’s voice. ‘On the air, you can be anyone you want to be,’ he said. That’s when Janet knew that she could be the woman Charlie needed her to be-young, hot, great radio. The kind of woman whose calls would always be welcomed.”
“And Rani was born,” I said.
“Every night Janet practiced the new voice in front of the mirror. It took a while, but it was worth it. When she closed her eyes and listened to the voice, she felt different-desirable, powerful. The voice was easy, but the face was harder. Janet bought the most expensive makeup in the city, but no matter how much makeup she put on, she was still old and plain. And you were perfect, Charlie.”
“I’m not perfect,” I say.
She ignores me. “ Janet knew that a seductive voice might get her on the air, but she realized you’d never be satisfied with just a voice. You wanted a real flesh-and-blood woman. You deserved someone as perfect as you. She bought a very expensive wig. She was ready, but your lines were always jammed. Other people kept getting in the way. There were times when you talked to Ian Blaise twice in a single night.”
“He lost his wife and children,” I say, and even as the words escape my mouth, I know I’m saying exactly the wrong thing.
Rani’s wig slips down over her ear. She moves the microphone closer to her lips. Her hiss is as venomous as a snake’s. “At least he had a wife and children to lose. Janet had never had anybody. Ian Blaise had memories…”
“Marcie Zhang was only fourteen.”
“And she’d already been rejected and laughed at. I did her a favor. I cut her pain short.”
“But James Washington had everything ahead of him.”
“And he still kept calling you. Don’t you see, Charlie? Every minute you were on the air with James Washington, you weren’t with me. I had to get him out of the way. It was nothing personal. He had to go, and now he’s gone. And I’m here.”
Nova is very pale. She sways as if she’s about to collapse. Rani notices and grabs her roughly about the shoulder. The microphone is still in her hand and it knocks Nova’s chin. She winces, but does not cry out. I’ve had enough. “Let Nova go,” I say. My voice is louder than I intend it to be, and Rani tenses- the last thing we need. I try to be reassuring. “Come into the booth with me,” I say. “We can do the show together. Nobody else. Just the two of us.”
Rani looks angrily at Nova. “Your producer will never let me come in there. The minute I move away from her, she’ll stop me.”
“I won’t stop you. I swear,” Nova says.
Rani adjusts her platinum wig. Under the mask of makeup, it’s difficult to read the expression on her face, but her voice is resigned. It’s the voice of a person who feels that events have been taken out of her hands. “Of course, if Nova was dead,” she says matter-of-factly, “she couldn’t stop me.”
The control room is brightly lit. It’s easy for me to see exactly what’s happening. Nova is gripping the chair in front of her to keep from falling forward. From the angle of her arm, it’s clear that Rani has the gun aimed at the base of Nova’s spine.
Nova’s voice is pleading. “Just move the gun up, so it doesn’t hurt the baby,” she says. “She hasn’t done anything to you. Let her live… please. Please, Rani. If you’re going to shoot me, okay, but please don’t kill my baby.”
The jaws of the vice clamped to my temples tighten. The threat to Nova and her baby is more than I can take. “Rani, we don’t know how much time we have,” I say. “Let’s not waste it. Nova has nothing to do with our lives now. She’s the one who’s irrelevant. Open the door to the studio and come to me.”
Rani hesitates. She and Nova are frozen, like figures on a TV screen when there’s a transmission problem. My heart is pounding. Under my breath, I say, “Take the first step, Rani. You can do it. Take the first step. Once I get you in here with me, I don’t care what happens as long as Nova and the baby are safe.”
I lean into the mike. “Rani, you know you want to see me. We’ve waited so long-too long. Come to me, Rani. Come to me. Come. Come.”
I watch the hands on the studio clock. It ticks off the seconds with agonizing slowness. Finally, Rani turns away from Nova, and like a sleepwalker she begins to move. I hate and fear guns, but I have never seen a more beautiful sight than the light glinting off Rani’s Glock 22 pistol as she moves toward me. She raises the hand that is not holding the gun to straighten her wig and arranges her face in a tortured smile. When I’m certain Rani will not turn back, I allow myself to look at Nova. She is inching her way slowly toward the door that will lead her out of the control room to safety. For the first time since the show started that night, I exhale.
My relief doesn’t last long. Within seconds, Rani opens the door to the studio. “It’s so dark in here,” she says.
“That’s how I like it,” I say. “Follow the sound of my voice.”
“I want to see your face.”
“Do you?”
“I’ve imagined it a thousand times. I lie awake at night, touching your perfect body with my mind.”
I reach for the light that I keep on the desk for an emergency and flick the switch. I tilt the lamp toward me, so that Rani can see my face clearly. She gasps. “My god. What happened?”
“I was born,” I say. “It’s a birthmark. The human stain. Not the stuff of your dreams, huh?”
Rani raises the gun, so that it’s pointed at me. Despite her crooked platinum wig and her clownish makeup, she’s a commanding figure. Her hand is steady as she takes aim. Behind her in the control room, I can see police officers moving into position. They, too, have their weapons drawn. I am beyond being frightened.
“You were supposed to be perfect,” Rani says. “We were supposed to be perfect.”
“And now you’re going to shoot me because I’m not the man you wanted me to be.”
“I killed for you.”
“No, Janet. You didn’t kill for me. You killed for Charlie D. He only exists on the air. He’s someone I made up because I didn’t want to be me. Just the way you made up Rani because you didn’t want to be Janet Davidson. My real name is Charlie Dowhanuik. Maybe it’s time for Charlie Dowhanuik and Janet Davidson to meet.” I stand and hold my arms out to her. “You’re going to have to put that gun down,” I say.
With agonizing slowness, she places the gun on the desk. In the control room, the cops move into position. “Give us a moment,” I say. Janet Davidson moves toward me. I reach up and remove the wig. Her hair is short and brown. I touch it. “You have pretty hair,” I say.
She reaches out and touches my cheek. “Your skin is very soft,” she says.
“Would you like to sit with me while I finish the show?” I ask.
And so Janet Davidson sits down beside Charlie Dowhanuik. Facing us in the control room are six cops with their guns drawn. But until the program ends and the microphone is turned off for the night, the police are not a
