The smile widened, as Sterne again seemed to sense Gurney’s train of thought. “I’m actually looking forward to my interactions with the penal system and its population. I’m a positive thinker, Detective. I embrace the reality that’s been placed in front of me. A penitentiary is a new world to conquer. I have an ability to attract people who can be of use. You seem to have noted my success with Robby Meese. Think about that. Penal institutions are full of Robby Meeses—susceptible young men looking for a father figure, for someone who understands them, someone who’s on their side, who can channel their energies, their fears, their resentments. Think about it, Detective. With appropriate guidance, young men like that could become a kind of palace guard. It’s an exciting prospect, one I’ve had occasion to think about many times over the years. In short, I believe that prison life will be quite manageable. I might even become a bit of a celebrity. I have a feeling I may become the darling of the psychological community all over again—as they try to rehabilitate themselves with profound new insights into the true story of the Good Shepherd. And don’t forget the books. Authorized and unauthorized biographies. RAM specials. And you know something? I may end up a lot better off than you in the long run. You’ve earned yourself more enemies on the outside than I’ll have on the inside. Not such a great victory for you, when you think about it. I can pay people to watch my back. People who are very good at that sort of thing. But how about your back? If I were you, I’d be concerned.”

“PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND OPEN THE DOOR NOW.”

Gurney stared across the room at the plain little man in the tan cardigan. “Tell me something, Larry. Do you have any regrets at all?”

He looked surprised. “Of course not. Everything I did makes perfect sense.”

“Including Lila?”

“Pardon?”

“Including killing your wife, Lila?”

“What about it?”

“That made perfect sense, too?”

“Of course. Or I wouldn’t have done it—hypothetically speaking. Actually, we had more of a business arrangement than a traditional marriage. Lila was a sexual athlete of high refinement. But that’s another story.” He produced a small, speculative smile. “Might make an exciting film.”

He walked past Gurney to the front door, opened it, and tossed the big pistol out onto the grass.

“OPEN YOUR HANDS … RAISE THEM ABOVE YOUR HEAD … WALK FORWARD SLOWLY.”

Sterne raised his hands and stepped out of the cabin. As he walked toward the causeway path, the helicopter searchlight fastened on him. A vehicle at the far end of the causeway—with headlights, fog lights, and two spotlights all on—began to move forward.