“So this is the choice. If you jump down this shaft here, Molly, your lovely young daughter will be spared. If you don’t, then it’s down she goes, and I won’t spare the rest of you, either.”
“You’re crazy!” Trevor screamed at him. “You’re completely and utterly crazy!”
Red Mask pushed Victoria until she was leaning even further over the elevator shaft. “I warned you! One more word and it’s down she goes!”
Molly stepped forward, with her head held high and both fists tightly clenched.
Trevor said, “No, Molly — No, you can’t!”
But Molly walked right up to Red Mask and stood in front of him and said, “If that’s what it’s going to take to save my daughter — all right, I’ll do it.”
Red Mask stared at her with his slitted eyes. His expression was unreadable, like a painted wooden figure by a desolate highway, far from anyplace at all.
He took a step back from the open elevator shaft. “There it is,” he told her. “That’s the way down. I have to tell you, this is almost like a religious experience. The fear. The elation.”
Molly went right up to the edge of the elevator shaft. Her hair was ruffled by the updraft. Victoria was staring at her, appalled, but Red Mask was holding the knife so close to her throat that she couldn’t cry out.
But it was then that Frank sprinted forward, dropping Deputy’s leash as he did so. He collided with Molly, pushing her past the open elevator shaft, and straight into Victoria and Red Mask. At the same time, Deputy bounded up at Red Mask and sank his teeth into his arm.
Red Mask fell backward, dropping his knife. Frank shouted, “Grab her!” and Molly wrapped her arms around Victoria. Frank twisted himself sideways so that both of them could roll clear.
Red Mask picked up his knife and furiously stabbed at Deputy until the dog released his grip on his arm and limped off to the far side of the reception area, bloody and whining. Red Mask clambered to his feet.
“Do you think that’s going to spare you?” he spat. “Do you think that any of you are going to leave this building alive? You’re going to be chopped liver, all of you.”
Frank ducked and feinted, but Red Mask kept advancing on him, lunging at him with his knife. He cut the back of Frank’s right hand, and blood sprayed across the floor, and then he stabbed him in the left forearm, and the shoulder.
Red Mask raised his knife high above his head and was just about to plunge it into Frank’s chest, when Frank seized the lapels of Red Mask’s coat and deliberately fell backward into the open elevator shaft. They both disappeared like a conjuring trick.
“Oh my God!” Sissy cried out. She hurried to the elevator shaft, with Detective Bellman and Trevor close behind her.
Both Red Mask and Frank were dangling from one of the steel cables in the center of the shaft. Red Mask must have snatched at the cable with his left hand, and then dropped his knife so that he could grip it with his right hand, too. Frank was hanging beside him, still holding tightly onto the front of his coat.
“Hold on!” shouted Detective Bellman. “Hold on, I’ll see if I can find a stepladder or something!”
Sissy called out, “Frank! Frank! See if you can climb down the wire!”
“Can’t let go, Sissy. Sorry.”
“Frank, you have to try! I don’t want to lose you again!”
“You never lost me. You never will. Go get Jane.”
“Let go of my coat!” Red Mask roared at him. “Let go of my coat!”
“Get Jane!” Frank insisted. Red Mask’s lapel started to tear off, and he lurched another six inches downward.
Sissy turned around and said, “Jane — come here, quick!”
Jane Becker came up and stood beside her. “What do you want me to do?”
“Call him!”
“I can’t!”
“Then I will,” said Sissy. “Red Mask! Can you hear me?”
Red Mask managed to turn his head so that he could see her.
“There’s somebody here who has something to say to you, Red Mask!”
Red Mask grunted with effort, but said nothing.
Jane Becker reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out the postcard of Butcher Buck. “You see this?” she called out, in a shrill, unsteady voice. “This is you.”
“Tell him!” said Frank. “For God’s sake, just tell him!”
“You were never a real person! You never existed! I invented you!”
As preternaturally strong as he was, Red Mask’s hands were beginning to slide down the elevator cable, leaving a dark smear of blood.
“What the hell are you saying to me?” he grated.
“You never existed! When Molly asked me who had stabbed me, I described this statue! It’s a wooden statue, in Iowa!”
Red Mask stared at her over his shoulder. She held the postcard at arm’s length, so that he could see it more clearly.
“You were never a man, ever. You never lived. You were only made out of wood.”
Red Mask said nothing. But right in front of their eyes, he began to fade. First of all, Sissy could see the elevator cable right through his hands, as his flesh became transparent. Then his scarlet face began to turn pale pink, as pale as paint water.
Frank looked up at her, still clinging to the last shadowy vestiges of Red Mask’s coat. Only a painting like Frank could have clung on so long. He had no more substance, in reality, than Red Mask.
“Sissy!” he called.
Sissy said, “Frank! We’ll bring you back! I promise you, Frank! We’ll bring you back tonight!”
But it was then that Red Mask vanished altogether, and Frank fell. He disappeared down the darkened elevator shaft without a sound.
Sissy waited, and listened, but she didn’t hear him hit the basement. It was just as though he had vanished, too.
Molly came up and put her arm around Sissy’s shoulders, and hugged her. “Oh, Sissy.”
Sissy smeared the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. “I told him we’d bring him back again. I told him we’d bring him back tonight.”
“We could, Sissy. We could. Do you want me to?”
Sissy turned away from the elevator shaft. Trevor was holding Victoria tight. Detective Bellman was hunkered down next to Deputy, dabbing at his wounds with his handkerchief. Jane Becker was stroking Deputy’s head.
Sissy said, “No. He looked at me, Frank, just before he fell, and he shook his head.”
“You’re sure?”
Sissy nodded. “It’s time for me to go home, I think. I can lay some flowers on his grave.”
“Momma?” said Trevor.
“I’m all right,” said Sissy. “Let’s get out of here, shall we? I could really use a cigarette.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The Painted Man
Two days later, they shared a last breakfast together, eggs over easy and waffles with blueberry preserves. Sissy’s bag was already packed and waiting in the hall.
Victoria said, “I’m going to send you an e-mail every single-bingle day, Grandma.”
Sissy smiled. “I shall look forward to it. Don’t forget to send me some pictures of your play.”
Molly handed Sissy a small blue velvet bag. “Souvenir,” she said.
Sissy opened the drawstring and looked inside. It was Van Gogh’s ring.
“Make sure that you never give it to an artist,” said Molly.
Trevor came in from the backyard, and saw it. “Maybe you should melt it down. We don’t want the same thing to happen to anybody else.”