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Again Noel studied the face. «Make the call. Tell her I’m here and I want explanations from both of you.»

They sped down the country road past the gates of the estate, driver and passenger oblivious to the sounds of an angry dog suddenly disturbed from its sleep by the racing car. The road curved to the left. Gradually, Yakov coasted to a stop off the shoulder, into the underbrush.

«Dogs’ ears pick up engines that stop quickly. A diminuendo is much more difficult for them.»

«Are you a musician?»

«I was a violinist.»

«Any good?»

«Tel Aviv Symphony.»

«What made you—»

«I found more suitable work,» interrupted Ben-Gadíz. «Get out quickly. Remove your overcoat; take your weapon. Press the door closed; make no sound. The guest house will be back quite a way, but we’ll find it.»

There was a thick brick wall bordering the grounds, a string of coiled barbed wire on the top of it. Yakov scaled a tree to study the wire and the wall. «There are no alarms,» he said. «Small animals would trigger them too frequently. But it’s messy; the coil’s nearly two feet wide. We’ll have to jump.»

The Israeli came down, crouched next to the wall, and cupped his hands. «Step up,» he ordered Noel.

The ring of wire barbs on the top of the wall was impossible to avoid; there was no space on the ledge untouched by it.

Straining, Holcroft managed to get his left toe on the edge, then sprang up, vaulting the ominous coil and plummeting to the ground. His jacket had been caught, his ankles badly scraped, but he had made it. He stood up, only vaguely aware that he was breathing heavily, the pain in his throat and shins merely irritations. If the stranger had given Helden the right information on the phone, he was within a few hundred yards of Althene.

On top of the wall, the silhouette of the Israeli loomed like a large bird in the night sky; he vaulted over the coiled wire and spun down to the ground. He rolled once, as a tumbler might roll to break a fall, and sprang up next to Noel, raising his wrist in front of him to look at his watch.

«It’s nearly six. It’ll be light soon. Hurry.»

They sliced through the forest, sidestepping branches, leaping over the tangled foliage, until they found the dirt road that led toward the guest house. In the distance they could see a dim glow of lights that shone from small cathedral windows.

«Stop!» Ben-Gadíz said.

«What?» Yakov’s hand gripped Noel’s shoulder. The Israeli fell on him, dragging Holcroft to the ground. «What are you doing?»

«Be still! There’s activity in the house. People.»

Noel peered through the grass at the house no more than a hundred yards away. He could see no movement, no figures in the windows. «I don’t see anyone.»

«Look at the lights. They’re not steady. People are moving in front of lamps.»

Holcroft saw instantly what Ben-Gadíz had seen.

There were subtle changes of shading. The normal eye—especially the normal eye of an anxious runner—would not notice them, but they were there. «You’re right,» he whispered.

«Come,» said Yakov. «We’ll cut through the woods and approach from the side.»

They went back into the forest and emerged at the edge of a small croquet course, grass and wickets cold and rigid in the winter night. Beyond the flat ground were the windows of the house.

«I’ll run across and signal you to follow,» Yakov whispered. «Remember, no noise.»

The Israeli dashed across the lawn and crouched at the side of a window. Slowly he stood up and peered inside. Noel got to his knees, prepared to race out from the foliage.

The signal did not come. Ben-Gadíz stood motionless at the side of the window, but made no move to raise his hand. What was wrong? Why didn’t the signal come?

Holcroft could wait no longer. He sprang up and ran over the stretch of grass.

The Israeli turned, his eyes glaring. «Get away!» he whispered.

«What are you talking about? She’s in there!»

Ben-Gadíz grabbed Holcroft by the shoulders, pushing him backward. «I said go back! We must get out of here…»

«The hell we will!» Noel swung both arms up violently, breaking the Israeli’s grip. He leaped to the window and looked inside.

The universe went up in fire. His mind burst open. He tried to scream, but no scream would come, only pure, raw horror, beyond sound, beyond sanity.

Inside the dimly lit room he saw the body of his mother arched diagonally in death across the back of a chair. The graceful, wondrous head was streaked with blood, scores of red rivers over wrinkled flesh.

Noel raised his hands, his arms, his whole being in the process of exploding. He could feel the air. His fists plunged toward the panes of glass.

The impact never came. Instead, an arm was around his neck, a hand clasped over his mouth; both were giant tentacles pulling his head back viciously, lifting him off his feet, his spine arching, his legs crumbling beneath him as he was forced to the ground. His face was being pushed into dirt until there was no air. And then a sharp agonizing pain shot through his throat, and the fire returned.

He knew he was moving, but he did not know how or why. Branches kept slapping his face, hands hammered at his back, propelling him forward into the darkness. He could not know how long he was in the suspended state of chaos, but finally there was a stone wall. Harsh commands barked into his ear.

«Get up! Over the wire!»

Cognizance began to return. He felt the sharp metal points stabbing him, scraping his skin, ripping his clothes. Then he was being dragged across a hard surface and slammed against the door of an automobile.

The next thing he knew he was in the seat of a car, staring through the glass of a windshield. Dawn was coming up.

He sat in the chair, drained, numb, and read the letter from Althene.

Dearest NOEL—

It is unlikely that we shall see each other, but I beg you, do not mourn me. Later, perhaps, but not now. There is no time.

I do what I have to do for the simple reason that it must be done and I am the most logical person to do it. Even if there were another, I’m not at all sure I would allow him to do what has been reserved for me.

I’ll not dwell on the lie I have lived for over thirty years. My new friend, Mr. Ben-Gadíz, will explain it fully to you. Suffice it to say I was never aware of the lie, nor—God in heaven—the terrible role you would be called upon to play.

I come from another era, one in which debts were called by their rightful name, and honor was not held to be an anachronism. I willingly pay my debt in hopes that a vestige of honor may be restored.

If we do not meet again, know that you have brought great joy to my life. If ever man needed proof that we are better than our sources, you are that proof.

I add a word about your friend Helden. I think she is the lovely daughter I might have had.

It’s in her eyes, in her strength. I’ve known her but a few hours, during which time she saved my life, prepared to sacrifice her own in doing so. It is true that we often perceive a lifetime in a moment of clarity. The moment was there for me, and she has my deep affection.

God speed you, my Noel.

My love,

ALTHENE

Holcroft looked up at Yakov, who was standing by the apartment window looking out at the gray light of the early winter morning.

«What was it she wouldn’t let anyone else do?» he asked.

«Meet with my brother,» answered Helden from across the room.

Noel clenched his fist and closed his eyes. «Ben-Gadíz said he ordered you killed.»

«Yes. He’s had many people killed.»

Holcroft turned to the Israeli. «My mother wrote that you would explain the lie.»