“You tried to make certain things . . . right,” Sellami continued. “Fix things.”

“You did not?”

“Those babies.”

“What about them?”

“He was standing on them,” Sellami whispered.

Sellami was drunk. And he was crying. Noiselessly, but his face was completely wet. His eyes were bloodshot.

“Fuck, it is hot,” Sellami said. He got up and threw open one of the Palladian doors. An alarm sounded. Sellami was taking his shirt off. He didn’t seem to hear the ringing or notice that stadium lights had flooded the garden. It occurred to Aziz that he was not crying but sweating. Then Sellami poured what was left of the vodka and ice in his drink on his head. He ran out onto the grass and disappeared behind the last stand of visible trees.

The house had come to life. Uniformed men were driving golf carts across the grass. There was commotion in the hall, and phones ringing. The dark man came into the room, looked at Aziz immobile on his chair as he had left him hours before, and closed the doors to the garden. The alarm stopped. “Are you all right, Officer Nazzar?” he said quickly. Aziz nodded. Off he went. Two boys came in and began taking away the cart, the platters, the tables. The dark man came in and drew the curtains on all the windows and doors overlooking the garden.

Aziz had a powerful need to lie down. There was no bed in this room though. He was about to ask where he was to sleep when a tall man entered the room. The dark man said, “Officer Nazzar, this is Colonel Benane.”

Aziz tried to get up, but Benane said, “Sit.”

The dark man left, closing the door behind him.

“This is most unfortunate,” Benane said, sitting in a chair across the room from Aziz. He was stiff.

“Sellami?”

“He does this,” Benane said dryly.

“The pressure.”

“What amazes me is that you have not joined him in a romp through the grounds.”

Aziz held up his cast and sling.

“Once, Sellami came back and he had two broken legs and an incision in his abdominal cavity he had endured during a makeshift operation,” Benane said. “He not only drank a liter of vodka, he managed to drag himself across a highway into a lake. He nearly drowned.”

“I am sorry to hear it.”

“You went through much together.”

“We did.”

“Well. We have things to discuss.”

“Certainly.”

“You have nothing to fear; they will find Sellami. He cannot get very far.”

“Of course.”

“You are a man of composure, I see. But even you, I believe, need recuperation. It is time you go home to your mother. I have made the arrangements. You will be driven to her house tomorrow morning. The good woman has suffered unduly. When she got the news tonight you were alive, she had to be sedated. Luckily, Dr. Andrews, who was here earlier, was able to make it out to her home.”