“You’re very pretty for an FBI agent,” he said.

She turned with blood in her cheeks. “Thanks. I work at it.” She stopped. “You must work out a lot. You have so much stuff.”

He set the bottle down on a ledge and patted his firm stomach. “I gain weight looking at food. My wife likes me fit.” He added, “It’s important to her that I stay young.”

“How much older are you?” A personal question, but it was one of those facts the confused portion of her mind felt might be significant.

“Twenty years. It’s not so long for some women, but for others …”

He did not finish his sentence, which also added to her confusion.

“My husband is ten years older,” she said.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

Kelly glanced at the picture of the factory. The hard father and the despondent child. Money and emptiness—no mother, long story.

“Is your father still alive?” she asked.

“No.”

“Does your wife work?”

“No”

“It must be nice you can afford this apartment, and a home as well.”

“It’s nice.” He paused. “My father left me a sizable inheritance.”

“Lucky you.” Yet the word luck felt out of place in the apartment. She moved closer to the window. Gray outside—inside getting dark. Still, she did not understand the change in her mood. Naturally she would be scared to spy on the Acid Man. But he would not know she was present. She was not required to take action against him. She just had to listen and observe.

“Yes,” he said softly.

Once more she had her back to him. She spoke over her shoulder.

“It probably gives you the freedom to do what you want.”

Banks was near. “Yes. It’s a blessing.”

It was only God who could bless. She had been taught that as a little girl. She wondered where God had been when the Acid Man had five times uncorked his vial of liquid fire and poured it onto the chests of those women. There should have been at least one religion in the world that demanded God answer that question before he asked to be worshipped.

Here she was a Jew, and she suddenly realized she had the Hail Mary running through her mind.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath, too soft for him to hear. Perhaps the prayer was real and brought a blessing, but at that moment she felt cursed beyond belief. Her mind underwent a complete breakdown and restructuring. The many insignificances that had plagued her since entering the apartment were suddenly gathered together in her head into one huge flashing red sign.

Finally, she began to understand …