These two maniacs were playing with Sam the way cats played with a bird — except for what Chino had not told her. Whatever that was, whatever they were really up to that was not icing on the cake — or icing on the icing. A room deep in the ground under the house, some kind of gun-thing centered on it, computers, contraband from Poland, and everybody heading out of town by six in the morning. A failed communist who was above the likes of everybody else?

“Sorry about the car,” Gregory said over his shoulder from the control console. “Perhaps you should dock my pay.”

“I’ve already written it off,” Chino said amiably. He put his arm around Amy’s waist and steered her toward the door.

“I can put him on the screen behind the bar,” Gregory said.

Chino wrinkled his nose. “Let us know when he’s headed downstairs.”

Us? She waited until they were in the hall. “When are you going to tell me what’s going to happen tomorrow morning?”

“I showed you where it begins. Downstairs. Tomorrow, from a safe distance, you might be able to see where it ends.” He hugged her; even a hug from this man felt unpleasant. “You won’t turn into a pillar of salt, I promise.”

He could turn the story of Lot and his wife on its head to suit his own purposes, he was so warped. In the bar Amy positioned herself in front of the television remote control. “What does happen to me?”

He wanted more champagne. “What you really want is to see into the monster’s heart.” He filled her glass and she sipped from it.

“I thought that was the idea of your plans for me.”

“What, love? There is no love. After passion dies, only grim determination keeps people together — or a voyage of depravity.”

“Is that what you have in mind for us?”

He squeezed her again. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I won’t lie. You’re a woman with whom one wants to savor every moment. I thought that from the first. I want to taste you —”

“I’ve noticed.” All she had to do was get over the fact, if it became fact, that he had killed her husband. Chino didn’t want to hear about that again. It was the reason they had gone to the security room in the first place, for her to see who was in control — that Sam was being allowed to live, at least for now. “Listen, what’s the chance of getting something to eat around here? I’ve had nothing but those damned chips since breakfast.”

“The house is empty except for us. I’ll have to go to the kitchen myself. You’re welcome to come with me, but I know you’d rather watch your husband on television.”

“So why let me? I don’t understand you. You always zig when I expect you to zag —”