n； honeyed tone。 〃I am Sergeant O'Grady； and this is Sergeant Finester。 Do we have permission to tape…record you？〃
〃If it's necessary；〃 the woman said。 Her voice wasn't quite as sexy as her looks。 It was clipped； short； irritated。
〃You have the right to a lawyer；〃 continued O'Grady； his voice still low and soothing； 〃and you have the right to decline our questioning。 We want you to understand this is voluntary。〃
〃And if I refuse？〃
O'Grady chuckled in a friendly way。 〃It's not my decision； you understand； but they might subpoena you； make you e down to the station。 Lawyers are expensive。 It would be inconvenient。 We just have a few questions here； no big deal。 You're not a suspect。 We're just asking for a little help。〃
〃All right；〃 the woman said。 〃Go ahead。 I've been questioned several times before。 I suppose once more won't hurt。〃
O'Grady began to speak again； but this time Finester was ready； and he cut O'Grady off。 He wasn't going to sit there like an idiot while O'Grady did all the talking。 The guy was as bad as his wife。
〃Dr。 Kelly；〃 he said； hastily； perhaps a little too loud； quickly covering it with a smile of his own； 〃we're delighted you're willing to help us。 For the record； please state your full name； address； the date； and time。 There's a clock on the wall over there； but no； I see you're wearing a watch。 It's just a formality； you know； so we can keep our tapes straight； not get them mixed up。 We wouldn't want to arrest the wrong person。〃 He chuckled at his joke and was a little disappointed when she didn't chuckle along with him。
O'Grady gave him a pitying； condescending look。 Finester felt the irritation toward his partner rise。 When you got down to it； he really couldn't stand the guy。 So much for the unbreakable blue bond。 He found himself wishing O'Grady would stop a bullet someday soon。 Like tomorrow。
The woman stated her name。 Then Finester jumped in again and recorded his own； O'Grady following a little grudgingly。 After a few more formalities； Finester put the background sheet aside and reached for the latest list of prepared questions。 The list seemed longer than before； and he was surprised to see some handwritten entries at the bottom。 They must have just been added； obviously in haste。 Who the hell had been messing with their interrogation sheets？ This whole thing was balls up。 Totally balls up。
O'Grady seized on Finester's silence as an opportunity。 〃Dr。 Kelly；〃 he jumped in； 〃could you please describe in your own words your involvement in this case？ Please take all the time you need to recall the details。 If you don't remember something； or are unsure about it； feel free to let us know。 I've found that it's better to say you can't remember than to give us details that may not be accurate。〃 He gave her a broad smile； his blue eyes twinkling with an almost conspiratorial gleam。
Screw him； thought Finester。
The woman gave a testy sigh； crossed her long legs； and began to speak。
FIVE
SMITHBACK FELT THE paralysis； the dreadful helplessness； take plete possession of him。 His limbs were dead； motionless； foreign。 He could not blink his eyes。 Worst of all…by far； the worst of all…he could not even fill his lungs with air。 His body was immobilized。 He panicked as he tried to work his lungs； struggled to draw in breath。 It was like drowning； only worse。
Leng hovered over him now； a dark figure backlit by the rectangle of the door； spent needle in his hand。 His face was a shadow beneath the brow of his derby hat。
A hand reached forward； grasped the edge of the duct tape that still partially sealed Smithback's mouth。 〃No need for this anymore；〃 Leng said。 With a sharp tug； it was ripped away。 〃Now； let's get you intubated。 After all； it wouldn't do to have you asphyxiate before the procedure begins。〃
Smithback tried to draw breath for a scream。 Nothing came but the barest whisper。 His tongue felt thick and impossibly large in his mouth。 His jaw sagged； a rivulet of saliva drooling down his chin。 It was a consummate struggle just to draw in a spoonful of air。
The figure took a step back； disappearing beyond the door。 There was a rattle in the hallway and Leng returned； wheeling a stainless steel gurney and a large； boxlike machine on rubber wheels。 He positioned the gurney next to Smithback； then bent over and； with an old iron key； quickly unlocked the cuffs around the reporter's wrists and legs。 Through his terror and despair Smithback could smell the musty； mothball odor of antique clothes； along with the tang of sweat and a faint whiff of eucalyptus； as if Leng had been sucking on a lozenge。
〃I'm going to place you on the gurney now；〃 Leng said。
Smithback felt himself being lifted。 And then； cold unyielding metal pressed against his naked limbs。 His nose was running but he could not raise his arm to brush it away。 His need for oxygen was being acute。 He was totally paralyzed…but； most terrible of all； he retained an utter clarity of consciousness and sensation。
Leng reappeared in his field of vision； a slender plastic tube in one hand。 Placing his fingers on Smithback's jaw； Leng pulled the mouth wide。 Smithback felt the tube knock roughly against the back of his throat； slide down his trachea。 How awful to feel the intense； undeniable desire to retch…and yet be unable to make even the slightest movement。 There was a hiss as the ventilating machine filled his lungs with air。
For a moment； the relief was so great Smithback momentarily forgot his predicament。
Now the gurney was moving。 A low； brickwork ceiling was passing by overhead； punctuated occasionally by naked bulbs。 A moment later； and the ceiling changed； rising into what seemed a cavernous space。 The gurney swung around again； then came to rest。 Leng bent down； out of sight。 Smithback heard four measured clicks； one after the other； as the wheels were locked in place。 There were banks of heavy lights； a whiff of alcohol and Betadine that covered a subtler； far worse； smell。
Leng slid his arms beneath Smithback； raised him up once again； and moved him from the gurney to another steel table； wider and even colder。 The motion was gentle； almost loving。
And then…with a pletely different motion； economical and amazingly strong…he turned Smithback over onto his stomach。
Smithback could not close his mouth； and his tongue pressed against the metal gurney； unwillingly sampling the sour chlorinated taste of disinfectants。 It made him think about who else might have been on this table； and what might have happened to them。 A wave of fear and nausea washed over him。 The ventilator tube gurgled inside his mouth。
Then Leng approached and； passing his hand across Smithback's face； shut his eyelids。
The table was cold； so cold。 He could hear Leng moving around。 There was a pressure on his elbow； a brief sting as an intravenous needle was inserted near his wrist； the ripping sound of medical tape being pulled from its canister。 He could smell the eucalyptus breath； hear the low voice。 It spoke in a whisper。
〃There will be some pain； I'm afraid；〃 the voice said as straps were fixed to Smithback's limbs。 〃Rather a lot of pain； in fact。 But good science is never really free from pain。 So do not dispose yourself。 And if I may offer a word of advice？〃
Smithback tried to struggle； but his body was far away。 The whisper continued； soft and soothing： 〃Be like the gazelle in the jaws of the lion： limp； accepting； resigned。 Trust me。 That is the best way。〃
There was the sound of water rushing in a sink； the clink of steel on steel； instruments sliding in a metal basin。 The light in the room grew abruptly brighter。 Smithback's pulse began to race wildly； faster and faster； until the table beneath him seemed almost to rock in time with the frantic beating of his heart。
SIX
NORA SHIFTED IN the unfortable wooden chair； glanced at her watch for what had to be the fifth time。 Ten…thirty。 This was like the questioning she'd endured after finding Puck's body； only worse…much worse。 Though she'd deliberately kept her story brief； reduced her answers to mere one…liners； the questions kept ing in an endless； moronic stream。 Questions about her work at the Museum。 Questions abou