n it。
Zeffer came after her； out into the open air； and she saw him clearly for the first time。 He had been extremely handsome once； she thought； but his face was a mess。 He looked as though he'd been attacked； punched repeatedly。 Raw in places； pale and powdery in others； he had the appearance of a man who had suffered intensely； and kept the suffering inside； where it continued to take its toll。 She couldn't make quite so hurried an attempt to abandon him now that she'd seen him plainly。 He seemed to read her equivocation； and suggested that she stay。
〃Are you really in such a hurry？〃 He looked around him as he spoke； he seemed to be reading the peculiar stillness in the air。
〃Perhaps we could walk together a ways。 It isn't always safe up here。〃
Before she could ask him what he meant by this he turned his back to the door of the cage and picked up a large stick that was set there。 The way he wielded it suggested he'd used it as a weapon in the past； and had some expectation of doing so again now。
〃Animals？〃 she said。
He looked at her with those sorrowful gray eyes of his。 〃Sometimes animals； yes。 Sometimes worse。〃
〃I don't understand。〃
〃Perhaps； with respect； it would be better not to try；〃 he advised。 The stillness seemed to be deepening around them； the absence of sound being heavier； if that were possible。 She didn't need any further encouragement from Zeffer to stay close to him。 Whatever this stillness hid； she didn't want to face it alone。 〃Just take it from me that Coldheart Canyon has some less…than…pretty occupants。〃
Something behind the cages drew Zeffer's attention。 Tammy followed the direction of his gaze。 〃What were the cages for？〃 she asked him。
〃Katya went through a phase of collecting exotic animals。 We had a little zoo here。 A white tiger from India； though he didn't live very long。 Later； there was a rhinoceros。 That also perished。〃
〃Wasn't that cruel？ Keeping them here； I mean？ The cages look so small。〃
〃Yes； of course it was cruel。 She's a cruel woman； and I was cruel for doing her bidding。 I have no doubt of that。 I was probably unspeakably cruel； in my casual way。 But it takes the experience of living like an animal…〃 he glanced back at the cage 〃…to realize the misery they must have suffered。〃
Tammy watched him scrutinizing the shrubbery on the far side of the cages。
〃What's out there？〃 she said。 〃Is it animals that…〃
〃e here；〃 Zeffer said； his voice suddenly dropping to an urgent whisper。 〃Quickly。〃
Though she still saw nothing in the shrubbery； she did as she was told。
As she did so there was a blast of icy air down the narrow channel between the cages； and she saw several forms…human forms； but distorted； as though they were in a wind…tunnel； their mouths blown into a dark circle lined with needle teeth； their eyes squeezed into dots…e racing towards her。
〃Don't you dare！〃 she heard Zeffer yell at her side； and saw him raise his stick。 If he landed a blow she didn't see it。 The breath was knocked from her as two of her attackers threw themselves upon her。
One of them put a hand over her face。 A spasm of energy passed through her bone and brain； erupting behind her eyes。 It was more than her mind could take。 She saw a white light； like the light that floods a cinema screen when the film breaks。
The cold went away in the same instant： sounds and sights and all the feelings they posed； gone。
The last thing she heard； dying away； was Willem Zeffer's voice yelling： 〃Damn you all！〃
Then he too was gone。
In the passageway in front of Katya's long…abandoned menagerie； Willem Zeffer watched as the forces that had broken cover carried Tammy Lauper away into their own horrid corners of the Canyon； leaving him…as he had been left so often in this godless place…helpless and bereft。
He threw the stick down on the ground； his eyes stinging with tears。 Then the strength ran out of him pletely； and he went down on his knees at the threshold of his hovel； cursing Katya。 She wasn't the only one to blame； of course。 He had his own part to play in this tragic melodrama； as he'd admitted moments before。 But he still wanted Katya damned for what she'd done； as he was damned： for the death of tigers and rhinoceros； and the murder of innocent women。
PART FOUR
LIVE AFTER FAME
ONE
Three days after Tammy had pursued Marco Caputo up Sunset Boulevard and into the mysterious arms of Coldheart Canyon was Oscar Night： the Night of Nights； the Show of Shows； when billions of people across the world turned their eyes on Tinseltown and Tinseltown did a pirouette and a curtsey and pretended it was a lady not a five…buck whore。
Todd had known from the start that there was no chance of his attending the ceremony。 Though he could now see that his wounded face was indeed healing properly； it was plain that he was in no condition to step into the limelight anytime soon。 He had briefly considered hiring one of the great makeup men of the city to disguise the worst of the discoloration； but Maxine quickly dissuaded him。 Such a plan would require them to share their secret with somebody else （this in itself was risky： makeup personnel were legendary gossips） and there was always the chance that； however good the cover…up was； the illusion of perfection would be spoiled under the blaze of so many lights。 All it required was one lucky photographer to catch a crack in the painted mask； and all their hard work would be undone。 The rumor…mill would grind into motion again。
〃Anyway；〃 she reminded him； 〃You loathe the Oscars。〃
This was indeed true。 The spectacle of self…congratulation had always sickened him。 The ghastly parade of nervous smiles as everyone traipsed into the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion； the shrill laughter； the sweaty glances。 Then； once everyone was inside； the circus itself。 The lame jokes； the gushing speeches； the tears； the ego。 There was always a minute or two of choreographed mawkishness； when the Academy carted out some antiquated star and gave them a last chance to flicker。 Occasionally； when the taste level plummeted further than usual； the Academy chose some poor soul who'd already been stricken by a stroke or was in the early stages of Alzheimer's。 There'd be a selection of clips from the poor victim's great pictures； then； fumbling and bewildered； he or she would be led out to stand alone on the stage while the audience rose to applaud them； and you could see in their eyes that this was some kind of Hell： to have their finest moments thrown up on a screen…their faces strong and shining…and then have the spotlight show the world what age and disease had done to them。
〃You're right；〃 he'd said to Maxine。 〃I don't want to be there。〃
So why； if he truly didn't want to be there； was he sitting at his bedroom window tonight； staring down the length of the Canyon towards the city； feeling so damn sorry for himself？ Why had he started drinking； and drinking hard； at noon； and by two…thirty…when he knew the first limousines were beginning to roll up to the Pavilion…was he in the depths of despair？
Why； he asked himself； would he want to keep pany with those hollow； sour people？ He'd fought the battle to get to the top of the Hollywood Hill long ago； and he'd won it。 He'd had his face plastered up on ten thousand billboards across America； across the world。 He'd been called the Handsomest Man in the World； and believed it。 He'd walked into rooms the size of football fields and known that every eye was turned in his direction； and every heart beat a little faster because he'd appeared。 Just how much more adulation did a man need？
The truth？
Another hundred rooms； filled with people stupefied by worship would not be enough to satisfy the hunger in him； nor another hundred hundred。 He needed his face plastered on every wall he passed； his movies lauded to the skies； his arms so filled with Oscars he couldn't hold them all。
It was a sickness in him； but what was he to do？ There was no cure for this emptiness but love； love in boundless amounts； the kind of love God Himself would be hard…pressed to deliver。
As the cloudless sky darkened towards night he started to pick out the Kl