“Yes.”
“The — the water’s boiling in the kitchen. I’ll bring the coffee.”
“All right.”
“You’re still wearing your coat, Lucas.”
“I’ll take it off.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Rogers looked at Finchley. “What do you suppose she’s leading up to?”
Finchley shook his head.
The woman came back from the kitchen. There was a clink of cups. “I remembered not to put any cream or sugar in yours, Lucas.”
The man hesitated. “That’s very good of you, Edith. But — As a matter of fact, I can’t stand it black any more. I’m sorry.”
“For what? For changing? Here — let me take that in the kitchen and do it right.”
“Just a little cream, please, Edith. And two spoons of sugar.”
Finchley asked, “What do we know about Martino’s recent coffee-drinking habits?”
“They can be checked,” Rogers answered.
“We’ll have to be sure and do that.”
The woman brought the man’s coffee. “I hope this is all right, Lucas.”
“It’s very good. I-I hope it doesn’t upset you to watch me drink.”
“Should it? I have no trouble remembering you, Luke.”
They sat quietly for a few moments. Then the woman asked, “Are you feeling better now?”
“Better?”
“You hadn’t relaxed at all. You were as tense as you were that day you first spoke to me. In the zoo.”
“I can’t help it, Edith.”
“I know. You came here hoping for something, but you can’t even put it in words to yourself. You were always that way, Luke.”
“I’ve come to realize that,” the man said with a strained chuckle.
“Does laughing at it help you any, Luke?”
His voice fell again. “I’m not sure.”
“Luke, if you want to go back to where we stopped and begin it again, it’s all right with me.”
“Edith?”
“If you want to court me.”
The man was deathly quiet for a moment. Then he heaved to his feet with a twang of the chair springs.
“Edith — look at me. Think of the men that’ll follow you and me until I die. And I am going to die. Not soon, but you’d be alone again just when people depend on each other most. I can’t work. I couldn’t even ask you to go anywhere with me. I can’t do that, Edith. That’s not what I came here for.”
“Isn’t it what you thought of when you were lying in the hospital? Didn’t you think of all these things against it, and still hope?”
“Edith — ”
“Nothing could ever have come of it, the first time. And I loved Sam when I met him, and was happy to be his wife. But it’s a different time, now, and I’ve been remembering, too.”
In the car, Finchley muttered softly and with savage intensity. “Don’t mess it up, man. Don’t foul up. Do it right. Take your chance.” Then he realized Rogers was looking at him and went abruptly quiet.
In the apartment, all the man’s tension exploded out of his throat. “I can’t do it!”
“You can if I want you to,” the woman said gently.
The man sighed for one last time, and Rogers could see him in his mind’s eye — the straight, set shoulders loosening a little, the fingers uncurling; the man standing there and opening the clenched fist of himself. Martino or not, traitor or spy, the man had won — or found — a haven.
A door opened inside the apartment. A child’s voice said sleepily, “Mommy — I woke up. I heard a man talking. Mommy — what’s that?”
The woman caught her breath. “This is Luke, Susan,” she said quickly. “He’s an old friend of mine, and he just came back to town. I was going to tell you about him in the morning.” She crossed the room and her voice was lower, as if she were holding the child and speaking softly. But she was still talking very rapidly. “Lucas is a very nice man, honey. He’s been in an accident — a very bad accident — and the doctor had to do that to cure him. But it’s not anything important.”
“He’s just standing there, Mommy. He’s looking at me!”
The man made a sound in his throat.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Susan — I won’t hurt you. Really, I won’t.” The floor thudded to his weight as he moved clumsily toward the child. “See? I’m really a very funny man. Look at me blink my eyes. See all the colors they turn? Aren’t they funny?” He was breathing loudly. It was a continuous, unearthly noise in the microphone. “Now, you’re not afraid of me, are you?”
“Yes! Yes, I am. Get away from me! Mommy, Mommy, don’t let him!”
“But he’s a nice man, Susan. He wants to be your friend.”
“I can do other tricks, Susan. See? See my hand spin? Isn’t that a funny trick? See me close my eyes?” The man’s voice was urgent, now, and trembling under the nervous joviality.
“I don’t like you! I don’t like you! If you’re a nice man, why don’t you smile?”
They heard the man step back.
The woman said clumsily, “He’s smiling inside, honey,” but the man was saying “I’d — I’d better go, Edith. I’ll only upset her more if I stay.”
“Please — Luke — ”
“I’ll come back some other time. I’ll call you.” He fumbled at the door latches.
“Luke — oh, here’s your coat — Luke, I’ll talk to her. I’ll explain. She just woke up — she may have been having a nightmare…” Her voice trailed away.
“Yes.” He opened the door, and the FBI technician barely remembered to pull down his gain control.
“You will come back?”
“Of course, Edith.” He hesitated. “I’ll be in touch with you.”
“Luke — ”
The man was on the stairs, coming down quickly. The crash of his footsteps was loud, then fading as he passed the microphone blindly. Rogers signaled frantically from the car, and the two waiting ANG men began walking briskly in opposite directions away from the building. The man came out, tugging his hat onto his head. As he walked, his footsteps quickened. He turned up his coat collar. He was almost running. He passed one of the ANG men, and the other cut quickly around a corner, circling the block to fall in with his partner.
The man disappeared into the night, with the surveillance team trying to keep up behind him.
The microphone was still listening.
“Mommy — Mommy, who’s Lucas?”
The woman’s voice was very low. “It doesn’t matter, honey. Not any more.”
6
“All right,” Rogers said harshly, “let’s get going before he gets away from us.” He braced himself as the technician thumbed the starter and lurched the car forward.
Rogers was busy on his own radio, dispatching cover teams to cross the man’s path and pick up the surveillance before he could outwalk the team behind him. Finchley had nothing to say as the car moved up the street. His face, as they passed under a light, was haggard.
The car rolled past the nearest ANG man. He looked upset, trying to walk fast enough to keep the hurrying man in sight and still not walk so fast as to attract attention. He threw a quick glance toward the car. His mouth was set, and his nostrils were flared.