He removed his left hand from Shoshi's body, lowered it to himself, began stroking himself. Leering.
'Two weapons.' Giggle. 'Real science.'
Daniel lowered the gun until it was level with the organ. Took another step forward.
Baldwin laughed, quickened his stroke. Kept sawing the knife in counterpoint.
'Silly millimeter, bye-bye kikette.'
The voice rising in pitch, the erection hardening, tilted upward.
Power was everything with this one. Control, the key.
Daniel played along with it. Said, 'Please.'
'Please,' laughed Baldwin. He masturbated a while longer, stopped, and ran his nail along the upper cutting edge of the knife. The lower edge still resting on Shoshi's windpipe.
'This is a Liston amputator, kikescum. It knows how to fast-dance, cuts through bone like butter.' Grin. Giggle. The knife lifted, then descended.
'Please. Don't hurt her.'
'Blink the wrong way and we'll be playing football with her fucking head.'
'Please. I beg you.'
Baldwin's eyebrows arched. He licked his lips.
'You really mean that, you insignificant piece of roach shit, don't you?'
'Yes.' Forward.
'Yes, Doctor.'
'Yes, Doctor.' Begging, putting on a servile face and keeping Baldwin's eyes off his legs. Moving close enough to Shoshi's leg to grab her ankle, pull her away. But the knife was still kissing her flesh. A muscle twitch could sever her jugular.
' Yes, please, Herr Doktor Professor!'
'Yes, please, Herr Doktor Professor.'
Baldwin smiled, sighed. Then his face creased abruptly into a livid hate-mask.
'THEN DROP THE BANG-BANG, FUCKHEAD!'
Daniel lowered the Beretta further. Begging for mercy as he did it. Scanning the room and taking in the layout.
No more doors. This was the end point.
'Please, Doctor, don't hurt her. Take me instead.'
Idiocy, but it amused the bastard, purchased time.
Shiny things hanging from a nail embedded in a lath. Gold hoop earrings. Three pairs.
In the corner, an ice cooler. Next to it a crowbar. Too far.
Wall racks holding two large flashlights, more sheets, pillows. Stacks of folded clothing: Dresses, undergarments. A white dress striped with blue, torn, a strip missing.
Next to the clothing, jars filled with clear liquid and labeled with gummed stickers. Soft, pinkish things floating within.
Two he recognized as kidneys.
Others, unfamiliar. Roundish, clearly visceral.
'DROP IT, SHITBRAIN, OR I CUT HER!'
Bellowing, but subtle aftertones of panic.
Cowardice.
A passive monster, picking off the weak. Even after he had them in his clutches, putting them to sleep before doing his dirty work-terrified of resistance. Cutting himself superficially, but Daniel knew he'd chance nothing that endangered him.
He lowered the gun all the way. Baldwin was distracted, again, by its descent.
Daniel moved closer to the head of the table, looked at Baldwin, then past him, at a stuffed animal perched on the rack below the jars. Then he saw the black patch over the eye, realized it was Dayan. Stiff as a toy. No- paralyzed, the big brown eyes moving back and forth, following him. Begging for rescue.
'ON THE FLOOR OR FOOTBALL!' screamed Baldwin, sounding like a child having a tantrum.
Daniel said, 'Yes, Doctor,' and flipped the Beretta across the room, to the left. It hit the side of the sink- trough, clattered to the ground.
During the instant that Baldwin's eyes followed its trajectory, his knife hand lifted.
A millimeter of air between blade and throat.
