21.

Connie said, "You'll have to call Preduski."

"Why?"

"To get police protection."

"It's no use."

"He believes in your visions."

"I know he does."

"He'll give you protection."

"Of course," Graham said. "But that's not what I meant."

"Explain."

"Connie, I've seen myself shot in the back. It's going to happen. Things I see always always happen. n.o.body can do anything to stop this." happen. n.o.body can do anything to stop this."

"There's no such thing as predestination. The future can be changed."

"Can it?"

"You know it can."

A haunted look filled his bright blue eyes. "I doubt that very much."

"You can't be sure."

"But I am sure."

This att.i.tude of his, this willingness to ascribe all of his failings to predestination, worried and upset her more than anything else about him. It was an especially pernicious form of cowardice. He was rejecting all responsibility for his own life.

"Call Preduski," she said.

He lowered his eyes and stared at her hand but didn't seem to see how tightly he was gripping it.

She said, "If this man comes to the house to kill you, I'll probably be there too. Do you think he's going to shoot you, then just walk away and let me live?"

Shocked, as she had known he would be, by the thought of her under the Butcher's knife, he said, "My G.o.d."

"Call Preduski."

"All right." He let go of her hand. He picked up the receiver, listened for a moment, played with the dial, jiggled the b.u.t.tons.

"What's wrong?"

Frowning, he said, "No dial tone." He hung up, waited a few seconds, picked up the receiver again. "Still nothing."

She slid off the desk. "Let's try your secretary's phone."

They went out to the reception room.

That phone was dead too.

"Funny," he said.

Her heartbeat quickening, she said, "Is he going to come after you tonight?"

"I told you, I don't know for sure."

"Is he in the building right now?"

"You think he cut the telephone line."

She nodded.

"That's pretty farfetched," he said. "It's just a breakdown in service."

She went to the door, opened it, stepped into the hall. He came behind her, favoring his injured leg.

Darkness lay on most of the corridor. Dim red emergency lights shone at each end of the hall, above the doors to the staircases. Fifty feet away a pool of wan blue light marked the elevator alcove.

Except for the sound of their breathing, the fortieth floor was silent.

"I'm not a clairvoyant," she said, "but I don't like the way it feels. I sense it, Graham. Something's wrong."

"In a building like this, the telephone lines are in the walls. Outside of the building they're underground. All the lines are underground in this city. How would he get to them?"

"I don't know. But maybe he knows."

"He'd be taking such a risk," Graham said.

"He's taken risks before. Ten times before."

"But not like this. We're not alone. The security guards are in the building."

"They're forty stories below."

"A long way," he agreed. "Let's get out of here."

"We're probably being silly."

"Probably."

"We're probably safe where we are."

"Probably."

"I'll grab our coats."

"Forget the coats." He took hold of her hand. "Come on. Let's get to those elevators."

Bollinger needed eight shots to finish off Macdonald and Ott. They kept ducking behind the furniture.

By the time he had killed them, the Walther PPK was no longer firing silently. No silencer could function at peak efficiency for more than a dozen shots; the baffles and wadding were compacted by the bullets, and sound escaped. The last three shots were like the sharp barks of a medium-sized guard dog. But that didn't matter. The noise wouldn't carry to the street or up to the fortieth floor. the baffles and wadding were compacted by the bullets, and sound escaped. The last three shots were like the sharp barks of a medium-sized guard dog. But that didn't matter. The noise wouldn't carry to the street or up to the fortieth floor.

In the outer office of Cragmont Imports, he switched on a light. He sat on a couch, reloaded the Walther's magazine, unscrewed the silencer and put it into his pocket. He didn't want to risk fouling the barrel with loose steel fibers from the silencer; besides, there was no one left in the building to hear shots when he killed Harris and the woman. And a shot fired on the fortieth floor would not penetrate walls and windows and travel all the way down to Lexington Avenue. besides, there was no one left in the building to hear shots when he killed Harris and the woman. And a shot fired on the fortieth floor would not penetrate walls and windows and travel all the way down to Lexington Avenue.

He looked at his watch. 8:25.

He turned off the light, left Cragmont Imports, and went down the hall to the elevator.

Eight elevators served the fortieth floor, but none of them was working.

Connie pushed the call b.u.t.ton on the last lift. When nothing happened, she said, "The telephone, and now this."

In the spare yet harsh fluorescent light, Graham's laugh lines looked deeper and sharper than usual; his face resembled that of a kabuki actor painted to represent extreme anxiety. "We're trapped."

"It could be just an ordinary breakdown of some sort," she said. "Mechanical failure. They might be making repairs right now."

"The telephones?"

"Coincidence. Maybe there's nothing sinister about it."

Suddenly the numerals above the elevator doors in front of them began to light up, one after the other: 16... 17... 18... 19 ... 20....

"Someone's coming," Graham said.

A chill pa.s.sed down her spine.

... 25 ... 26 ... 27....

"Maybe it's the security guards," she said.

He said nothing.

She wanted to turn and run, but she could not move. The numbers mesmerized her.

...30...31 ...32....

She thought of women lying in b.l.o.o.d.y bedclothes, women with their throats cut and their fingers chopped off and their ears cut off.

...33....

"The stairs!" Graham said, startling her.

"Stairs?"

"The emergency stairs."

...34....

"What about them?"

"We've got to go down."

"Hide out a few floors below?"

...35....

"No. All the way down to the lobby."

"That's too far!"

"That's where there's help."

...36....

"Maybe we don't need help."

"We need it," he said.

...37....

"But your leg-"

"I'm not a complete complete cripple," he said sharply. cripple," he said sharply.

...38....

He grabbed her by the shoulder. His fingers hurt her, but she knew he wasn't aware of how fiercely he was gripping her. "Come on, Connie!"

...39....

Frustrated with her hesitation, he gave her a shove, propelled her out of the alcove. She stumbled, and for an instant she thought she would fall. He kept her upright.

As they hurried down the dark corridor, she heard the elevator doors open behind them.