I pictured him speaking to me by name as I lay strapped to the table, and it was not a cheerful image.

Will you tell me your name? he asked.

Rumplestiltskin, I said.

He stared at me, his eyes huge behind the thick lenses. Then he reached down to my hip pocket and worked my wallet out. He flipped it open and found my driver’s license. Oh. So YOU’RE Dexter. Congratulations on your engagement. He dropped my wallet beside me and patted my cheek. Watch and learn, because all too soon I will be doing the same things to you.

How wonderful for you, I said.

Danco frowned at me. You really should be more frightened, he said. Why aren’t you? He pursed his lips. Interesting. I’ll increase the dosage next time. And he stood up and moved away.

I lay in a dark corner next to a bucket and a broom and watched him bustle about the kitchen. He made himself a cup of instant Cuban coffee and stirred in a huge amount of sugar. Then he moved back to the center of the room and stared down at the table, sipping thoughtfully.

Nahma, the thing on the table that had once been Sergeant Doakes pleaded. Nahana. Nahma. Of course his tongue had been removed—obvious symbology for the person Danco believed had squealed on him.

Yes, I know, Dr. Danco said. But you haven’t guessed a single one yet. He almost seemed to be smiling as he said that, although his face did not look like it was formed to make any expression beyond thoughtful interest. But it was enough to set Doakes off into a fit of yammering and trying to thrash his way out of his bonds. It didn’t work very well, and didn’t seem to concern Dr. Danco, who moved away sipping his coffee and humming along off-key to Tito Puente. As Doakes flopped about I could see that his right foot was gone, as well as his hands and tongue. Chutsky had said his entire lower leg had been removed all at once. The Doctor was obviously making this one last a little longer. And when it was my turn—how would he decide what to take and when?

Piece by small dim piece my brain was clearing itself of fog. I wondered how long I had been unconscious. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing I could discuss with the Doctor.