gal.
– -
When he took the gag out of her mouth she said, 'Are you going to kill me?'
'What do you think?'
'I think you are.'
He was silent.
'Are you?'
He didn't answer.
'At least tell me, okay?' Annie wondered why she wanted to know.
'What will it do for you if I tell you?' he asked.
'I don't know,' she said truthfully. 'I just want you to tell me. And how about taking off the blindfold?'
'You want to see yourself die?'
Her stomach muscles tightened as if she'd been struck. He'd answered her after all. 'Please take off the blindfold,' she begged.
'No.'
'Why not?'
'Because I said.'
Annie felt powerless, as though she'd been made a child again. She tried a different tack. 'Why are you doing this?'
'I can't believe you don't know.'
'Razzamatazz?' she ventured.
'Razzamatazz. Right.'
'I don't know what that means.'
'The hell you don't.'
She felt something sharp and cold at her neck, knew it was his knife. 'What I mean,' she said carefully, 'is that I don't know what it has to do with me.'
'But you remember?'
'Remember?'
'The club?'
'Yes.' If only he would take off the blindfold she would have a better chance, she thought. As though sight would give her power.
'Your father played the trumpet in that club.'
She said nothing, deciding on a strategy.
'Did you hear me?'
Frightened, she remained silent.
'Did you hear me?' he asked again.
She refused to answer, and then she felt the knife break her skin, felt blood dribble down her neck. Still she kept silent.
'What is it with you?'
'I want you to take off the blindfold.'
'Why?'
'Why do I have to keep it on is more to the point.'
'I'm running things here, not you.'
She believed he wanted to talk to her, tell her what it was all about. It was important to make him believe the removal of the blindfold was essential to her responding to him. 'I can't talk with this damn thing on.'
'You don't have to see to talk.'
'I do.'
'You'll talk if I say so.'
'No. You're going to kill me anyway, so I'll do what I choose, and I choose not to speak to you if I can't see you.' It might have been the biggest gamble she'd taken in her life. And maybe the last.
After a moment he said, 'Are you telling me you won't talk unless I take that thing off?'
'Yes.'
'What if I say if you don't talk I'll slit your throat?'
'I just explained that. Go ahead. It makes no difference to me if I die now or later. But I'm not talking anymore with this blindfold on.' These could be my last moments on earth, she told herself. It was an odd feeling, like the seconds before skiing downhill or the moment before the rollercoaster is released-suspended time, a slap in death's face.
He said nothing.
She could hear him breathing, feel the point of the knife at her throat. And then he moved. She held her breath.
'Okay,' he said. 'But don't get smart.'
The first round was over and she had won.
– -
Colin opened the door on the passenger side of Hallock's rented tan Camaro. He got in, didn't quite close the door. 'You okay?' Hallock asked.
'Yeah.' But he wasn't. Far from it. He shut the door. 'I'm going to start the car now.'
'Okay. Go ahead.' There was a low roaring in his ears and then he heard Safier's voice: 'You are never really trapped, Colin. There is always a way out of any situation.' And it was true. At any time he could tell Hallock to stop. Get out, walk to the Gazette building. Sure he could! Safier hadn't counted on time being of the essence. He had had no way of knowing that his patient would one day be fighting the clock, mixed up once again in murder. Jesus, he thought, maybe it's me. Maybe I'm a jinx. 'Stop being the center of the universe,' Safier had said. And, 'Take a positive view.' What the hell could be positive about this? A second chance. He was being given a second chance. Oh, God, he thought, this time I mustn't fail.
'You tell me, Maguire, if you want me to stop or anything.'
'Thanks, Waldo.' His voice sounded odd, he thought, like someone with a cold.
Hallock turned the key. The motor sprang to life.
Pain shot through Colin's arms, down his legs. He'd had this before, but familiarity didn't ease his discomfort. Grabbing the leather handgrip, he squeezed, and pressed his feet against the floor.
Hallock eased the car along the road, pebbles spraying the undersides. The wipers groaned under the onslaught of rain.
Colin closed his eyes. The last time he'd driven in a car with another person had been with his family. The day before they died. Nancy'd been driving, and the kids were in the back in car seats. He saw himself turn toward Todd, his three-year-old face chocolate- spotted, dark eyes glistening with life, the lashes long, thick.
'Daddy? What's Alicia doing?' Todd always asked what everyone was doing, his way of understanding the complexities of personality.
'She's sleeping,' Colin answered.
'Could I be sleeping, too?'
'Just close your eyes, honey.'
'Okay.'
Nancy said, 'You know something, Colly, you've got a way with kids.' She smiled at him, touched his knee.
'Maybe I should have more,' he declared.
'Over my dead body,' she said.
Colin groaned.
'Want me to stop?' Hallock asked.
'No. No, it's okay. I was just remembering something.' He felt as if he couldn't breathe. 'I've got to open the window.'
'Go ahead.'
He rolled down the window and stuck out his head. The rain pelted his face, soaking his hair. He opened his
