“What color do you think my hair is?” he asked.
She shook her head. She knew what color his hair was, of course; she had seen it when he’d burst hatless into the hotel room. His hair was blond. And his eyes above the surgical mask…
“You do not know?” he asked.
Again she shook her head.
“Ah, but you saw me,” he chided gently. “At the hotel. Surely you noticed the color of my hair.”
She made a sound behind the gag again.
“Something?” he asked.
She lilted her chin, twisted her head, tried to indicate to him that she wished the gag removed from her mouth. And in doing so, felt completely dependent upon him, and felt again a helpless rage.
“Ah, the adhesive,” he said. “Do you wish the adhesive removed? Is that it?”
She nodded.
“You wish to talk to me?”
She nodded again.
“I will not talk to you if you continue to lie,” he said, and she heard him rising from the chair. A moment later she heard him closing and locking the door to the room.
He did not return for what seemed like a very long time.
“Augusta?” he whispered. “Are you asleep?”
She shook her head again.
“It’s two o’clock in the morning. You should try to sleep, Augusta. Or would you prefer to talk?”
She nodded.
“But you must not lie to me again. You lied to me earlier. You said you didn’t know what color my hair is. You do know what color it is, don’t you?”
Wearily, she nodded.
“Shall I remove the adhesive? You must promise not to scream. Here,” he said, “feel.” He had moved to her side, and she felt now the cold steel of the scalpel against her throat. “You know what this is,” he said. “I will use it if you scream. So,” he said, and slid the blade flat under the adhesive, and then twisted it, and cut the tape, and pulled it free.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re quite welcome,” he said. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you might be. You need not be afraid of me, Augusta.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she lied.
“I shall prepare you something to eat in a moment.”
“Thank you.”
“What color is my hair, Augusta? Please don’t lie this time.”
“Blond,” she said.
“Yes. And my eyes?”
“Blue.”
“You had a very good look at me.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you lie? Were you worried that if you could identify me, I might harm you?”
“Why would you want to harm me?” she asked.
“Is that what you thought? That I might harm you?”
“Why am I here?” she asked.
“Augusta, please, you are making me angry again,” he said. “When I ask you something, please answer it. I know you have many questions, but my questions come first, do you understand that?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Why do my questions come first?” he asked.
“Because…” She shook her head. She did not know what answer he wanted from her.
“Because I am the one who has the scalpel,” he said.
“Yes,” she said.
“And you are the one who is helplessly bound.”
“Yes.”
“Do you realize just how helpless you are, Augusta?”
“Yes.”
“I could in fact harm you if I wished to.”
“But you said…”
“Yes, what did I say?”
“That you wouldn’t harm me.”
“No, I did not say that, Augusta.”
“I thought…”
“You must listen more carefully.”
“I thought that was what you said.”
“No. If you weren’t so intent on asking questions of your own, then perhaps you would listen more carefully.”
“Yes, I’ll try to listen,” she said.
“You must.”
“Yes.”
“I did not say I wouldn’t harm you. I asked if you thought I might harm you. Isn’t that so?”
“Yes, I remember now.”
“And you did not answer my question. Would you like to answer it now? I’ll repeat it for you. I asked if—”
“I remember what you asked.”
“Please don’t interrupt, Augusta. You make me very impatient.”
“I’m sorry, I …”
“Augusta, do you want me to put the adhesive on again?”
“No. No, I don’t.”
“Then please speak only when I ask you to speak. All right?”
“Yes, all right.”
“I asked you why you lied to me. I asked whether you were worried that I might harm you if you could identify me.”
“Yes, I remember that.”
“Is that why you lied to me, Augusta?”
“Yes.”
“But surely I had to know you’d seen me.”
“Yes, but you were wearing a surgical mask. I still don’t really know what you look like. The mask covered—”
“You’re trying to protect yourself again, aren’t you?” he said. “By saying you still don’t know what I look like?”
“I suppose so, yes. But it’s true, you know. There are lots of people with blond hair and…”
“But you are trying to protect yourself?”
“Yes. Yes, I am. Yes.”
“Because you still feel I might harm you.”
“Yes.”
“I might indeed,” he said, and laughed. He seized her chin then, and taped her mouth again, and swiftly left the room. On the floor, Augusta began trembling violently.
She heard the key turning in the lock, and then the door opened. He came to where she was lying near the wall, and stood there silently for what seemed like a very long time.
“Augusta,” he said at last, “I do not wish to keep you gagged. Perhaps if I explain your situation, you will realize how foolish it would be to scream. We are in a three-story brownstone, Augusta, on the top floor of the building. The first two floors are rented by a retired optometrist and his wife. They go to Florida at the beginning of November each year. We are quite alone in the building, Augusta. The room we are in was a very large pantry at one time. I have used it for storage ever since I moved into the apartment. It is quite empty now. I emptied it last month, after I decided what had to be done. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Fine,” he said, and cut the tape and pulled it free. She did not scream, but only because she was afraid of the scalpel. She did not believe for a moment that they were alone together in a three-story brownstone; if indeed he did not gag her again, she would scream as soon as he left her alone in the room.
“I’ve made you some soup,” he said. “You shall have to sit up. I shall have to untie your hands.”
“Good,” she said.
“You wish your hands untied?”
“Yes.”
“And your feet, too?”
“Yes.”
“No,” he said, and laughed. “Your feet will stay as they are. I’m going to cut the adhesive that is holding your hands behind your back. Please don’t try to strike out at me when your hands are free. Seriously, I will use the scalpel if I have to. I want your promise. Otherwise, I’ll throw the soup in the toilet bowl and forget about feeding you.”
“I promise,” she said.
“And about screaming. Seriously, no one will hear you but me. I advise you not to scream. I become violent.”
He said the words so earnestly, so matter-of-factly that she believed him at once.