«The idea crossed my mind, love,» Blade said lightly. «But even with their budget, the Ruskies wouldn't build anything quite so grand. I'm prepared to believe, for the moment at least, that we are where you say we are, and that you are who you say you are.»
«Well, thank you for that, anyway!» Zoe was indignant.
Richard began walking again. She ran a few steps to catch up.
«I've always liked Berkeley,» he mused. «J and I were here once. Did he tell you? A bit of the wet stuff in cooperation with the yanks. A lot goes on here. A spy can see plenty simply by renting a room in the hills and a telescope.» He gestured toward the bay. «When a navy vessel drops anchor out there, it's no use trying to hide the fact-«
They came to a wire-mesh fence topped with barbed wire.
Blade said, «Is this electrified?»
«I don't know.»
«Probably not. But it doesn't matter.»
He started along the fence. She hurried after him. «Dick, what are you doing, anyway?»
«Taking my evening constitutional, love. You say I'm sick. Well, what could be better for me than a brisk walk out in the fresh air?»
She caught up and he encircled her waist with a powerful arm and gave her a peck on the forehead. She felt a rush of emotion that should have died long ago, yet still remained as strong as ever. That painful ambivalence! At one instant she felt warm and protected, at the next vulnerable and afraid, as if Richard were an ancient god who might in one mood perform miracles of healing, and in another mood demand a human sacrifice.
How could she propitiate him?
Her body! That would satisfy him. It had always satisfied him before. How strange it was to love a man, and at the same time fear him! With Reginald it had been perhaps a little dull, but not frightening. At least not frightening!
«Oh, Dick,» she whispered, pulling his head down, pulling herself up. They kissed. She realized that if he killed her she wouldn't mind. It would be all right.
The darkness was settling in around them.
A plane passed overhead, blinking its lights red, green, white, red, green, white.
Gently she pulled herself free of his arms.
«Will you come with me to my room?» she asked, her voice shaking.
He nodded, but his face was in shadow so she could not read his expression.
They started back toward the mansion.
Zoe noticed, as she passed them, the two white-clad guards standing in the bushes, tranquilizer pistols in hand.
When Richard emerged from Zoe's room shortly before noon the following day, J and two guards were patiently waiting for him in the hall.
«Good morning, J,» Richard said, smiling.
«Good morning, Richard,» J answered, returning the smile somewhat stiffly. «You look refreshed.»
«I feel positively top-hole.» Richard yawned and stretched. Indeed, in his white T-shirt and white slacks (though the slacks were rumpled) he looked top-hole, at least physically.
J said, «You had an appointment with Dr. Colby this morning. Did you forget?»
«That's right!» Blade snapped his fingers. «It completely slipped my mind. I'm awfully sorry, really I am. Why didn't you remind me?»
J looked down, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. «I did not think you'd want to be disturbed.»
«You're always a true gentleman, sir. How refreshing in this decadent age!» At times like this Blade was as charming as a pet giant panda. J could not stay angry with him.
«Well, come along to lunch, Richard. Dr. Colby will be able to give you another appointment this afternoon, I'm sure.» J turned and started down the hall.
«That's good of him.» There was no trace of sarcasm in Richard's voice, yet J glanced at him sharply. Blade's roughhewn features were expressionless, perhaps too expressionless. J realized with uneasiness that Richard's animal cunning was returning much more rapidly than his memory.
The two men went downstairs side by side in silence, the guards a few steps behind.
As they entered the sunlit dining room, J noticed Richard's glance darting around the room, taking in every detail in an instant. The rectangular tables. The paper plates and plastic tableware. The paper tablecloths. The patients, some of whom turned to eye the newcomers sullenly. The doctors and nurses at the head table. J thought, What's he looking for?
Colby waved and smiled.
«Let's sit at the head table,» J suggested.
«As you like,» Blade agreed.
They made their way down the center aisle, between two rows of tables. The murmur of conversation went on. Some of the patients had begun eating. Others were waiting as the harassed waiters rushed to and fro from the kitchen and back. Too few waiters. J took this as yet another indication, that poor Colby's sanitarium was, at best, a marginal operation from the financial standpoint.
Colby stood up and leaned forward to shake hands, first with Richard, then with J. J noted (and he was sure Richard must have noticed too) that the lean psychiatrist's palms were sweating.
«Do sit down,» Colby said brightly. «And where is the charming Mrs. Smythe-Evans?»
«She decided to sleep in,» Richard answered, pulling back a chair.
Colby sat down. «I'm sure she'll be able to find a snack later.»
«No doubt,» Richard agreed.
J and Richard found themselves facing Colby across the table, the patients behind them. With a quick glance over his shoulder, J reassured himself that the two guards were still on duty, then saw that Blade was watching him and felt, for some reason, deeply embarrassed.
Colby too was ill at ease, so it was Blade who, after a considerable period of strained silence, said, «I want to apologize for missing my session with you this morning, Dr. Colby.»
Colby, speaking with his mouth full, answered, «That's quite all right.»
«Could I have another appointment for this afternoon?» Blade inquired.
J felt a twinge of surprise. This was the first time Richard had shown more than the most perfunctory co-operation in his therapy. Now, suddenly, Richard was requesting an appointment!
Colby, also surprised, said, «Of course. Two o'clock is open.»
«Two o'clock it is.» Richard smiled warmly, then added, «I've been bonkers for over ten years, haven't I?»
Colby said sharply, «Did someone tell you that?»
Richard shook his head. «If you wanted to keep it a secret, you should have gotten rid of all the calendars in this place.»
J said guardedly, «You haven't been-as you put it bonkers for that long.»
«How long then?» Richard demanded.
«A little over a week,» J replied.
Colby shot J a warning glance. «It's best if these things come out under controlled conditions, during therapy. Has your memory started to return, Mr. Blade?»
Blade mused, chewing on a chicken leg, then said, «So, it's amnesia I'm in for. No, I'm afraid my memory isn't coming back, but I do have eyes.»
Very sharp eyes, thought J. He wondered how long Richard had been playing dumb and watching, watching, watching. In fact, Richard was not above pretending not to remember even though completely recovered. The man was a trained special agent, damnit! Deception was his business. And they had only Richard's few, perhaps deliberately misleading, remarks to go on.
J found himself staring at Blade's profile, trying to read that unreadable face.
Blade said suddenly, «Have I killed someone?»
Colby stiffened but did not reply. J, too, found himself unable to speak.
Blade nodded slowly. «I see that I have.»
Colby said, «How did you guess?»
Blade gestured with his plastic fork toward the two nearby guards. «You're watching me so closely. You're all so frightened of me. I knew I must have done something frightful.» Who was it I did in?»
Colby said, «It wasn't your fault. It's better we don't talk about it now.» He had turned quite pale.