"He wasn't as strong as you, on that he was right." A silence fell between us. I thought of Rachel Belkin, the murder of Rachel Belkin, but I said nothing.
"Did you like walking in the snow?" I asked.
He turned to me in surprise and smiled. It was very bright, and kind.
"Yes, I did, but you haven't eaten your supper which I warmed for you. No, sit there, I'll get it, and one of your silver spoons."
He was as good as his word. I ate a bowl of the stew, as he watched with his arms folded.
I put aside the empty plate and at once he took it and then the spoon. I heard the sound of water running as he washed them. He brought back to me a small clean bowl of water and a towel, as someone might have done in another country. I didn't need it. But I dipped my fingers, and I used the cloth to wipe my mouth clean, which felt rather comforting, and he took these things away.
It was now that he saw the little boat television set with its built-in handle and tiny screen. I'd probably left it too near the fire. I felt a surge of embarrassment, as though I had spied upon his world while he was gone, as if to verify things he said.
He looked at the thing for a long moment and then away.
"It works? It talked to you?" he asked without enthusiasm. a "News from some local town, network I think, coming through the local channel. The Belkin Temples have been raided, people arrested, the public is being reassured."
He waited a long time before he answered. Then he said, "Yes well, there are some others, perhaps, that they haven't found but the people in them are dead. When you come upon these with their gun belts, and their vow to kill themselves along with the entire population of a country, it's best just to ... kill them on the spot."
"They showed your face," I said, "smooth shaven."
He laughed. "Which means they'll never find me under all this hair."
"Especially not if you cut the long part but that would be rather a shame."
"I don't need to," he said. "I can still do the most important thing of all."
"Which is what?"
"Disappear."
"Ah! I'm glad to hear it. Do you know they are looking for you?
They said something about the murder of Rachel Belkin. I hardly know the name."
He seemed neither surprised nor insulted nor upset in any way.
"She was Esther's mother. She didn't want to die in Gregory's house. But I'll tell you the strange part. When he looked at her dead body, I think he was grief-stricken. I think he actually loved her. We forget that such men can love."
"Do you want to tell me . . . whether or not you killed her? Or is that something I shouldn't ask?"
"I didn't kill her," he said simply. "They know that. They were there. That was early. Why would they bother to look for me anymore?"
"It's all to do with conspiracy, and banks, and plots, and the long tentacles of the Temple. You're a man of mystery."
'Ah, yes. And as I said, I am one who can, if necessary, disappear."
"Go to the bones?" I asked.
"Ah, the bones, the golden bones."
"You ready to tell me?"
"I'm thinking how to do it. There's a little more that I should tell before I come to the moment of Esther Belkin's death. There were masters I did love. I should explain a little more."
"You won't tell me about all of them?"
"Too many," he said, "and some are not worth remembering, and some I can't remember at all. There are two I want to describe to you The first and the last master whom I ever obeyed. I stopped obedience to any master. I slew when called-not only the man who had called me or the woman, but everyone who had witnessed the calling. I did that for years and years. And then the bones were encased with warnings in Hebrew and German and Polish and no one took the risk to call the Servant of the Bones.
"But I want to tell you about the two-the first and the last masters I obeyed. The others which I do recall we can dismiss with a few words."
"You look more cheerful now, more rested," I said. "I do?" He laughed. "How is that? Ah, well, I did sleep and I am strong, very strong,