Vivien took it, opened it and started reading. By the time she got to the end, her face was white and her lips drawn. Without a word, she passed the paper to the captain.
and that’s why I left. So now you know who I am andwhere I’m from, just as you know who you are. As yousee, my story didn’t take long to tell, because after awhile not much happened to me. But it was difficult totell, because it was difficult to live through. During mylife, I couldn’t pass anything on to anyone. I preferred tokeep my resentment and hate to myself. Now that thecancer has done its work and I’m on the other side, I canpass something on to you, the way every father should doto his son and I should have done a long time ago butcouldn’t. I never had much money. All I had, minus thefuneral expenses, is here in the envelope, in thousand-dollar bills. I’m sure you’ll make good use of it. All mylife, before and after the war, I worked in the construction industry. When I was young and working for a manwho was like a father to me, I learned to use explosivesfor demolition. The army taught me the rest. All the timeI was working in New York, I hid bombs in many of theplaces I helped to build. TNT and napalm. I learnedabout napalm the hard way. I’d have liked to be the oneto blow them up, but seeing as how you’re reading thesewords it means life, and my lack of courage, decidedotherwise. In this letter I’ve put the addresses of thebuildings that have been mined and instructions on howto blow them up in my place. If you do that, you’ll beavenging me. Otherwise I’ll just be one of the manyvictims of the war who never had the consolation ofjustice. I recommend you learn the addresses and thetechnical details by heart and then destroy this letter.The first building is on the Lower East Side, on 10thStreet at the corner of Avenue D. The second
That was where the letter ended. The captain, too, was white by the time he had finished reading. He put the sheet of paper down, put his elbows on the desk, and hid his face in his hands. His voice was muffled as he made one last attempt to convince himself that what he had just read wasn’t true.
‘Mr Wade, you could have written this yourself. How do I know this isn’t another of your hoaxes?’
‘The TNT and the napalm. I checked. Nobody mentioned it, either on TV or in the newspapers. I assume they don’t yet know about it. If you can confirm that was the cause of the explosion, I think that’s sufficient proof.’
Russell had said this to Vivien, who was pale and didn’t seem able to speak. All three of them were thinking the same thing. If what was written in the letter was true, it meant they were at war. And the man who had started this war had, on his own, the power of a small army.
‘And there’s another thing. I don’t know how useful it might be.’
Again Russell Wade put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket. This time he took out a bloodstained photograph. He held it out to the detective.
‘Along with the paper, Ziggy gave me this.’
Vivien took the photograph and stared at it for a moment or two. A kind of electric shock seemed to go through her.
‘Wait a moment. I’ll be right back.’
She disappeared into the corridor, barely leaving Russell and Captain Bellew time to wonder what she was up to. There was only one flight of stairs between the captain’s office and her desk, so it didn’t take her long to pick up the yellow folder and get back. She closed the door and approached the desk.
‘A couple of days ago, during demolition work at a site on 23rd Street, a body was found inside a cavity wall. According to the ME, it had been there for about fifteen years. We didn’t find any significant clues, apart from one thing.’
Assuming that the captain already knew most of this, Russell realized that Detective Vivien Light’s presentation was for his benefit. That meant she was respecting their pact.
‘On the ground next to the body,’ she continued, ‘we found a document holder containing two photographs. Here they are.’
She gave the captain the black and white enlargements that were in the folder. Bellew examined them for a few moments. When Vivien was certain he had digested them, she passed him the photograph Russell had shown her.
‘And this is what Ziggy gave Mr Wade.’
As soon as he saw it, the captain couldn’t stop himself crying out, ‘Holy fucking shit!’
He continued looking from one photograph to the other for what seemed like for ever. Then he leaned across the desk and held them out to Russell. In one, there was a young man in uniform standing in front of a tank: an image that looked as if it dated from the Vietnam war. In the other, the same young man, in civilian clothes, was holding a big black cat up to the camera, a cat that seemed to have one leg missing.
Now Russell knew why Detective Light had behaved the way she had, and why the captain was so surprised. The young man and the cat in the photograph found next to a body that had been dead for fifteen years were the same as those in the photograph Ziggy Stardust had put in his hands before dying.
CHAPTER 19
Iam God…
Ever since Father Michael McKean had opened his eyes, those three words had been echoing in his head as if they were on some kind of endless tape loop. Up until last night there had still been, somewhere inside him, a small hope that it was all the ramblings of a madman, ramblings that hurt no one but the madman himself. But reason and instinct, which were usually in conflict, told him it was all true.
And in the sunlight everything seemed clearer and more final.
He remembered the end of that strange conversation in the confessional, when the man, after making that terrible declaration, had changed his tone and become soft spoken, conspiratorial, uttering words of menace in a voice that artfully combined guilt and innocence.
‘Now I’m going to stand up and leave. And you won’t follow me, or try to stop me. If you did, the consequences would be very unpleasant. For you and the people who are dear to you. You can trust me on that, just as you can trust everything I’ve said.’
‘Wait. Don’t go. At least tell me why-’
The voice interrupted him, once again firm and precise. ‘I thought I’d made myself clear. I have nothing to explain. Only announcements to make. And you’ll get them before anyone else.’
The man continued with his ravings as if they were the most natural thing in the world.