Part 32 (1/2)

”Yes,” Susan said finally, ”you will. Which is the way you should do it.”

Pearl got off the bed and went purposefully to the kitchen, where I could hear her lapping water from her dish.

”Have you noticed that I have no clothes on,” Susan said.

”This was brought to my attention quite forcefully,” I said. ”About an hour ago.”

Susan ran her forefinger along the line of my bicep. ”I suppose, since you've been wounded, and since you are not as young as you were when we first met, that bringing it forcefully to your attention again would be too much.”

”Probably,” I said. ”On the other hand, it seems a shame to waste all that nudity. Maybe we should fumble around a little and see what develops.”

Susan reached over and closed the bedroom door.

”Pearl won't like being shut out,” I said.

”It'll only be for a little while.”

”Maybe it'll be a long while,” I said.

”One can only hope.”

I heard Pearl return to the closed door and snuffle a little, and sigh and lie down against it. She seemed to have figured out that there were times when we had to be alone. And accepted it philosophically.

”Well, for heaven's sake,” Susan whispered. ”Something seems to be developing already.”

”Strong,” I said. ”Like a bull.”

Susan giggled a little bit.

”The resemblance ends there,” she said.

Chapter 44.

I TALKED WITH Ellis Alves again, alone, in a small conference room on the thirty-second floor at Cone, Oakes and Baldwin. He was as hostile and interior as he had been the last time. I remembered what Hawk had said: You in for life, hope will kill you. There was nothing on the conference table except a water carafe and some paper cups stacked upside down. Ellis paid no attention to it. He stood motionless, silhouetted against the bright picture window with the early fall light filling the room.

”Where's Hawk?” Alves said.

”Elsewhere,” I said. ”I have some things to tell you.”

He didn't say anything. He simply waited, standing on the other side of the small conference table, for what I might have to say. I imagined in prison you learn to wait.

”I know you didn't kill Melissa Henderson,” I said.

Alves waited.

”I can't prove it yet, but I will.”

Alves waited.

”You interested in what I know?” I said.

”No.”

”You're going to get out,” I said.

Alves stood without speaking or moving.

”You got any questions?”

”No.”

”Okay, then that's all I got to say.”

”Make you feel better?” Alves said.

”No. I just figured you ought to know you're going to get out pretty soon, so you wouldn't do something dumb in the interim.”

”Yeah,” Alves said.

”Don't try to escape. Don't get into a fight. Don't break any rules. n.o.body much wants you to get out, so don't give them an excuse to keep you.”

Alves didn't say anything. He was looking at me, but I felt no contact. It was like exchanging stares with a statue.

”You got anything else you want to say before I get the guards?”

”No.”

”Okay.”

I got up and started for the door.

Behind me, Alves said, ”How long it going to take?”

”I don't know, weeks probably, maybe days. I need to make somebody confess.”

”What happens they don't?”

”I'll force it,” I said.

”Been almost a year,” Alves said. ”How come you still doing this?”

”I was hired to do this.”

”What happens to me, somethin' happen to you?”