Hearing her swallowing as though to speak, he opened his eyes. And in that moment she was as she had been in the cubicle the first time, he could smell the office in his nostrils and he saw her there so overdressed, so … A silent cry started in his chest. No, she had not been overdressed, she was beautiful. He liked her that way, had always liked women that way. A shout clamored against his throat and he knew that he would have taken her whatever she was. In Ardell’s office that second time he would have taken her Jewish or not Jewish. And that was why. He knew it, he knew that was why she mustn’t talk any more about meetings and this murder that was gathering itself …

‘See, Lully, the …’

With a high laugh that sounded boyish although strained, he moved his lips against hers and in the silence knew that this would be his life.

With a start and a stiff raising of his head he awoke. Listened. Then lowered his head to the pillow, his eyes wide open. It was dark outside and he saw the stars through his window. He tried to remember if he had been dreaming, the agony of confusion upon him. Something had awakened him, he knew. But if it was a dream that had done it, the dream was closed off now. Breathing minutely, he turned his head to train his hearing in all directions. The silence was whole. And yet there had been a sound that did not belong in the night. He looked at the sleeping face of Gertrude. Perhaps she had spoken from a dream. No, it was not that kind of sound. An idea struck him; he looked at the crucifix which Gertrude had hung on the wall, thinking it might have fallen and made the sound, but it hung there in the shadow. The vision of a merry-go-round … ‘Aleese …!’ No, that was long ago …

Suddenly remembering, he turned his head toward the bedroom door – toward the street. All at once it was quite clear that it had come from the street. He lay still, fighting to recall the kind of sound it had been, the web of sleep folding away from his mind. Maybe they had come for Finkelstein … ‘Aleese! Police!’ … maybe it was later than he thought and Finkelstein had come out to open the store and they had jumped him and he was lying out there in the street, or was still fighting them on the corner … He reached out for the clock. Ten after four. Relieved, he knew Finkelstein would not be out at this hour and they would certainly not break into his house for him. Relieved, because he did not know what he would do if he saw the man being beaten up out there … or rather, because he did know he would do nothing, but that it would bother him for a long time. No, he would call the police. That was it. Simply call the police and not have to leave his house …