More silence. Dex had a cowed, beaten expression on his face and seemed on the verge of squirming. Yet Ricci sensed he had little true remorse over the wrong he had done and only a partial understanding of its depth. In his own eyes he was a victim and that status both justified his actions and absolved him of blame. The shame in him was mostly over having gotten caught.

"Cobbs'll be okay," Ricci said. "I'm running the skiff back to the wharf. The two of you wait till maybe fifteen minutes after I'm gone, then take his boat, get him to the hospital. Anybody asks what happened to him, leave me out of your story. Or I give you my word, you'll pay."

Silence.

Ricci looked at him, and felt a sudden abhorrence that came close to making him physically sick. Then he gestured back the way they had come with his head.

"Get out of my sight," he said at last.

Dex hesitated a moment, as if he still thought there was something he ought to say but didn't know what it should be, or was afraid it might get him fouled up again. Then he simply nodded, stepped past Ricci, and started to walk away through the woods.

"And, Dex?"

Dex stopped, glanced back over his shoulder.

"Don't worry," Ricci said. "I'm sure you'll manage to live with yourself."

SEVENTEEN - VARIOUS LOCALES APRIL 22, 2001

SEVENTEEN

VARIOUS LOCALES APRIL 22, 2001

HARLAN DEVANE SAT OPPOSITE KUHL AT A CANE TABLE on his veranda, dealing out a hand of solitaire as the engorged red sun sank through the evening sky into the Bolivian rain forest.

"Give me your assessment," he said without raising his eyes from the cards.

"The pulse device should fulfill its requirements," Kuhl said. "We are close to ready for the endgame."

DeVane turned over a card and examined it. A jack of diamonds. He laid it atop a queen of clubs.

"The trial run seems to have made an outstanding impression on you," he said.

"Yes," Kuhl said. "The damage to the train surpassed every expectation."

DeVane nodded and glanced up from the table.

"Your emphasis on the amount of carnage that resulted fascinates me, Siegfried," he said. "Do you know the piece of information I find most useful after having heard your account?"

Kuhl looked at him with absolute stillness but did not reply. There was no sign on his face that he was considering an answer, and indeed DeVane would have been surprised and disappointed if he'd had anything to say. The most efficient predator never revealed its thinking, or made it obvious if it was thinking at all. Could anyone know the mind of a shark? A python?