"Had to be," I told her. "There's years of you on this. Everything you said. Lifting your skirt for the ruler. Playing with yourself while he watched. Getting on your knees and- "

"Stop it!" Jennifer screamed. "It wasn't my fault. I didn't want- "

"No, it wasn't your fault," I said, moving close to her. "It was never your fault. It was all the truth, so why did you...?"

"I wasn't going to get any money," she said, face tightening into rigid lines. "The statute of limitations. I was too late. This way, I get paid. I have to think of myself, don't I? I can get fixed now. Anything I want. Plastic surgery even. It's only fair."

"You're dead, bitch!" Heather snarled, coming off the couch, the brass knuckles already fitted over her right fist.

I was ready for it this time. I swept the knifeaedge of my hand down against Heather's wrist, spinning so my back was to her as I fired an elbow into her gut.

She gasped and went down.

"Just stay there!" I snapped at her, my foot right next to her face. I turned to Jennifer, holding out my hands like a traffic cop to keep her in the chair. "This is gonna be all right," I told her. "Just relax- I'll have her out of here in a minute."

I dropped to one knee next to Heather, put my lips close to her ear. "You owe me," I whispered. "It's you and me now. It's not about that sorry bitch over there. Come on."

She staggered to her feet holding my arm, leaning heavily against me, tears blotching her face. "He- "

"Shut up now," I said. "There's plenty of time for that." I pushed her gently back onto the couch, keeping hold of her until she was seated.

I stepped away quickly, grabbed my duffel bag out of the back bedroom, slung it over my shoulder.

"You can keep that tape," I told Jennifer. "A little souvenir. I got copies. I'll give you three days. Seventyatwo hours. That's enough for you to get paid. Then you better get in the wind."

She sat there with her mouth open, like I'd slugged her in the gut too. I held my hand out to Heather. She took it. I hauled her to her feet, thumbed the cellular into life, hit the memory button.

"Go," the Prof's voice came back.

"All clear?"

"Quiet as the crypt."

I held Heather's pudgy hand tight all the way down the back stairs.

It took two complete loops of the FDR before she stopped crying. I finally found a place to pull in near the heliport on Thirtyafourth. I held her against me in the darkness. Her whole body trembled with what she knew.

"I don't believe it," she said finally. "The truth..."

"The truth is just a toy they played with, Heather. It's up to you now. It's your call."

"What are you going to...?"

"Me? Nothing."

She was quiet for a long time after that. Finally, she turned in her seat. "I have to know. I have the key. Will you come with me?"

"It's not mine," I said. "I'm done."

She shifted her body against me, pulling at my jacket until I looked in her face.

"I love you," she said. "You found the truth."

I didn't say anything.

"Please..."

The concierge wasn't at his desk, the lobby deserted at that hour. We stood close together in the small elevator. "Breathe through your nose," I told her. "Stay inside yourself. Calm. You wanted the truth, Heather. You know where it is."

She opened the grille. I followed her down the hall. He was in the fanashaped chair, like he'd been waiting for us.

"It was the truth!" Heather blurted out. "We know the truth. She- "

"Shut up, you cow!" Kite hissed at her. "What's wrong with you? Have you forgotten our work?"