have been the icing on the cake, but her happiness is the main thing, right?”
“Yes,” he said softly.
“And I’m the man who made her happy.”
He looked at me, sly again, compassion vanishing. “Now we get to the real truth of it. You saved her, so you think that entitles you to a reprieve.” He shook his head. “Wrong. Doesn’t work that way.”
“Not a full reprieve,” I said, stepping forward, ignoring the click of the guns. “A couple of hours. Give me a chance. I probably can’t escape but let me try. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t. You’re human, Ferdinand Dorak, despite your monstrous qualities. You feel like the rest of us. If you kill me here, in your office, it will destroy Conchita if she finds out. And she will—people always do in situations like this.
“You can send the Troops after me later, the whole city if you wish. Let them hunt me like a pack of rabid hounds. You know they’ll get me. I can’t escape. Hell, I’ve nowhere to escape to. But at least you won’t have my blood on your hands. You can distance yourself from the murder. Let me go. Give me a chance. Maybe it will stop you from having nightmares.”
He flinched when I mentioned nightmares. Suddenly I was able to see the real man, born to be a monster, but a man all the same, trapped in his own shell, forced to be what he was, not liking it but incapable of change. If he hadn’t been so terrible he would have been pitiable.
“You’re old, Ferdy,” I said, and he flinched again. “You’ve done so much evil, hurt so many people, including yourself. I’m not asking for mercy. I’m offering you the chance to evade the guilt. You gain nothing if you kill me here, just drive another nail into the coffin of your heart. Let me go.”
It was a passionate speech but passion had never worked with The Cardinal before. He must have heard pleas like this a thousand times. But Conchita and his nightmares made the difference. Each one of us has a secret code, a series of buttons which, if pressed in the right order, make us perform contrary to judgment, logic and instinct. I’d found and pressed The Cardinal’s. If that didn’t work, the game was up and I was dead.
“I’ll give you half an hour,” he said, nodding at the Troops to lower their guns. “Don’t say anything more. Not a word. You’ve been very persuasive and it’s earned you a reprieve, but if you speak now… Half an hour. Not a minute more.”
I made my stunned way to the door. “Mr. Raimi,” he said, stopping me as my hand was poised to open it. He had his back to me and was looking out of the window. I could see his battered face reflected in the broken shards of glass the chair had left behind. “Nothing’s carved in stone,” he said quietly. “Use your time. Don’t run blindly. Turn your escape into a quest.” I saw him smile. “That’s the best advice I’ve ever given. I must be going soft in my old age.” He looked at his watch. “Twenty-nine minutes, Mr. Raimi.”
I fled.
It was too little time. I knew that before I hit the ground floor, grabbed my shoes from a startled receptionist and sped out the front door as fast as my legs could manage. Less than thirty minutes. I checked my watch. Five of those had already passed. There was nothing I could do in so short a time. I might as well have let him kill me up there.
I stopped in the middle of a small park and sat on a metal bench. My cuts, bruises and broken bones were stinging but I ignored them. He’d told me not to flee blindly. Running would get me nowhere. I had to think. Was there a way out?
I couldn’t stay in the city, that was obvious. I could expect to avoid the chasing mobs for an hour or two if I was lucky. But as soon as morning came and word spread, that would be that. Troops, hired hoods, taxi drivers, hookers, cops and kids on their bikes—the city was bulging with the eyes and ears of The Cardinal.
But where could I go? Grabbing the first plane out was no good. That would be the last recourse of a desperate man, and desperation would ruin me just as surely as