He was in Beverly Hills now, turning up Doheny – he was nearly there. He had remembered to do what no one remembers to do when they return a rental: they always leave the garage remote in the rental. He had remembered it, and he felt proud that he was functioning at that level of detail; it gave him confidence. He pressed it with a shaking, wet hand, it opened and he entered; he felt the cold darkness cover him with a safety, then he re-pressed the remote, the darkness increased and then the comfort of the sound of door into frame, completing its descent, hit his ears. He was swamped with relief.

Then came the fight – the compulsion to re-press – to continue to go over the process again, and again; he threw the remote into the back of the car – out of reach.

They couldn’t find him now.

He was safe.

Safe, and he wanted to talk to Lomita; but not for another hour.

He wanted to sit for an hour and try to smooth out this fucking steering wheel. He stroked and stroked it, until the desire left him and he was able to calm, just calm.

He had a full minute of consideration as to whether to turn off the engine or let it run in the dark enclosed space. He guided his hand to the ignition and killed the horses, breathless and spuming, in the engine.

He slept for a dreamless ten minutes.

At least, he thought he slept, but had no way of knowing because no dream came to mind; no other world that would confirm he had left this one. After what he decided was a wake-up, he accepted a peace. He stopped sweating. He had to force memory back into his head; what had passed that day. Force hard, his brain not going there, or wanting to go there, and accept what he had done.

He had only bought a car. No biggie. Jesus Christ, come on.

What was going to happen? When?

Crumbling conscience.

Chapter Twenty-five

Ever slept with his mother until he was thirteen.

Meaning in the same bed; and it didn’t happen every night. The reason for leaving his solitary bed was the dream of the pale blue hand and he would invariably, on opening his eyes from the waking nightmare, leave his room and go into his parents’ room, in the middle of the night, and climb into their bed. Then as he got older, and bigger, his father would reluctantly, to create space, leave the bed and climb into the vacated one, in the next room.