Jack, she said. You have to help us!
You, Ill help. Him-no way. I draw the line at lunatics and felons.
You heard what he said! Its a frame-up!
You are so gullible.
Only about you.
Cathy, its all right, said Victor. He was standing very still, very calm. Ill leave.
No, you wont. Cathy shot to her feet and stalked over to her ex-husband. She stared him straight in the eye, a gaze so direct, so accusing, he seemed to wilt right down into a chair. You owe it to me, Jack. You owe me for all the years we were married. All the years I put into your career, your company, your idiotic flicks. I havent asked for anything. You have the house. The Jaguar. The bank account. I never asked because I didnt want to take a damn thing from this marriage except my own soul. But now Im asking. This man saved my life tonight. If you ever cared about me, if you ever loved me, even a little, then youll do me this favor.
Harbor a criminal?
Harbor a criminal?
Only until we figure out what to do next.
And how long might that take? Weeks? Months?
I dont know.
Just the kind of definite answer I like.
Victor said, I need time to find out what Jerry was trying to prove. What it is Virateks working on-
You had one of his files, said Jack. Why didnt you read the blasted thing?
Im not a virologist. I couldnt interpret the data. It was some sort of RNA sequence, probably a viral genome. A lot of the data was coded. All I can be sure of is the name: Project Cerberus.
Where is all this vital evidence now?
I lost the file. It was in my car the night I was shot. Im sure they have it back.
And the film?
Victor sank into a chair, his face suddenly lined by weariness. I dont have it. I was hoping that Cathy Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair. Ive lost that, too.
Well, said Jack. Give or take a few miracles, Id say this puts your chances at just about zero. And Im known as an optimist.
I know where the film is, said Cathy.
There was a long silence. Victor raised his head and stared at her. What?
I wasnt sure about you-not at first. I didnt want to tell you until I could be certain-
Victor shot to his feet. Where is it?
She flinched at the sharpness of his voice. He must have noticed how startled she was-his next words were quiet but urgent. I need that film, Cathy. Before they find it. Where is it?
Sarah found it in my car. I didnt know it was yours! I thought it was Hickeys.
Whos Hickey?
A photographer-a friend of mine-
Jack snorted. Hickey. Now theres a ladies man.
He was in a rush to get to the airport, she continued. At the last minute he left me with some rolls of film. Asked me to take care of them till he got back from Nairobi. But all his film was stolen from my car.
And my roll? asked Victor.
It was in my bathrobe pocket the night Sarah-the night she- She paused, swallowing at the mention of her friend. When I got back here, to the city, I mailed it to Hickeys studio.
Wheres the studio?
Over on Union Street. I mailed it this afternoon-
So it should be there sometime tomorrow. He began to pace the room. All we have to do is wait for the mail to arrive.
I dont have a key.
Well find a way in.
Terrific, sighed Jack. Now hes turning my ex-wife into a burglar.
Were only after the film! said Cathy.
Its still breaking and entering, sweetie.
You dont have to get involved.
But youre asking me to harbor the breakers and enterers.
Just one night, Jack. Thats all Im asking.
That sounds like one of my lines.
And your lines always work, dont they?
Not this time.
Then heres another line to chew on: 1988. Your federal tax return. Or lack of one.
Jack froze. He glowered at Victor, then at Cathy. Thats below the belt.
Your most vulnerable spot.
Ill get around to filing-
More words to chew on. Audit. IRS. Jail.
Okay, okay! Jack threw his arms up in surrender. God, I hate that word.
What, jail?
Dont laugh, babycakes. The word could soon apply to all of us. He turned and headed for the stairs.
Where are you going? Cathy demanded.
To make up the spare beds. Seems I have house-guests for the night
Can we trust him? Victor asked after Jack had vanished upstairs.
Cathy sank back on the couch, all the energy suddenly drained from her body, and closed her eyes. We have to. I cant think of anywhere else to go
She was suddenly aware of his approach, and then he was sitting beside her, so close she could feel the overwhelming strength of his presence. He didnt say a word, yet she knew he was watching her.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. So steady, so intense, it seemed to infuse her with new strength.
I know it wasnt easy for you, he said. Asking Jack for favors.
She smiled. Ive always wanted to talk tough with Jack. Ruefully she added, Until tonight, Ive never quite been able to pull it off.
My guess is, talking tough isnt in your repertoire.
No, it isnt. When it comes to confrontation, Im a gutless wonder.
For a gutless wonder, you did pretty well. In fact, you were magnificent.
Thats because I wasnt fighting for me. I was fighting for you.
You dont consider yourself worth fighting for?
She shrugged. Its the way I was raised. I was always told that sticking up for yourself was unladylike. Whereas sticking up for other people was okay.
He nodded gravely. Self-sacrifice. A fine feminine tradition.
That made her laugh. Spoken like a man who knows women well.
Only two women. My mother and my wife.
At the mention of his dead wife, she fell silent. She wondered what the womans name was, what shed looked like, how much hed loved her. He must have loved her a great deal-shed heard the pain in his voice earlier that evening when hed mentioned her death. She felt an unexpected stab of envy that this unnamed wife had been so loved. What Cathy would give to be as dearly loved by a man! Just as quickly she suppressed the thought, appalled that she could be jealous of a dead woman.
She turned away, her face tinged with guilt. I think Jack will go along, she said. Tonight, at least.
That was blackmail, wasnt it? That stuff about the tax return?
Hes a careless man. I just reminded him of his oversight.
Victor shook his head. You are amazing. Jumping along rooftops one minute, blackmailing ex-husbands the next.
Youre so right, said Jack, whod reappeared at the bottom of the stairs. She is an amazing woman. I cant wait to see what shell do next.
Cathy rose wearily to her feet. At this point Ill do anything. She slipped past Jack and headed up the stairs. Anything I have to to stay alive.
The two men listened to her footsteps recede along the hall. Then they regarded each other in silence.
Well, said Jack with forced cheerfulness. Whats next on the agenda? Scrabble?
Try solitaire, said Victor, hauling himself off the couch. He was in no mood to share pleasantries with Jack Zuckerman. The man was slick and self-centered and he obviously went through women the way most men went through socks. Victor had a hard time imagining what Cathy had ever seen in the man. That is, aside from Jacks good looks and obvious wealth. There was no denying the fact he was a classic hunk, with the added attraction of money thrown in. Maybe it was that combination that had dazzled her.
A combination Ill certainly never possess, he thought.
He crossed the room, then stopped and turned. Zuckerman? he asked. Do you still love your wife?
Jack looked faintly startled by the question. Do I still love her? Well, let me see. No, not exactly. But I suppose I have a sentimental attachment, based on ten years of marriage. And I respect her.
Respect her? You?
Yes. Her talents. Her technical skill. After all, shes my number-one makeup artist.
Thats what she meant to him. An asset he could use. Thinking of himself, the jerk. If there was anyone else Victor could turn to, he would. But the one man he wouldve trusted-Jerry-was dead. His other friends might already be under observation. Plus, they werent in the sort of tax brackets that allowed private little hideaways in the woods. Jack, on the other hand, had the resources to spirit Cathy away to a safe place. Victor could only hope the mans sentimental attachment was strong enough to make him watch out for her.
I have a proposition, said Victor.
Jack instantly looked suspicious. What might that be?
Im the one theyre really after. Not Cathy. I dont want to make things any more dangerous for her than I already have.
Big of you.
Its better if I go off on my own. If I leave her with you, will you keep her safe?
Jack shifted, looked down at his feet. Well, sure. I guess so.
Dont guess. Can you?
Look, we start shooting a film in Mexico next month. Jungle scenes, black lagoons, that sort of stuff. Should be a safe-enough place.
Thats next month. What about now?
Ill think of something. But first you get yourself out of the picture. Since youre the reason shes in danger in the first place.
Victor couldnt disagree with that last point. Since the night I met her Ive caused her nothing but trouble.
He nodded. Im out of here tomorrow.
Good.
Take care of Cathy. Get her out of the city. Out of the country. Dont wait.
Yeah. Sure.
Something about the way Jack said it, his hasty, whatever-you-say tone, made Victor wonder if the man gave a damn about anyone but himself. But at this point Victor had no choice. He had to trust Jack Zuckerman.
As he climbed the stairs to the guest rooms, it occurred to him that, come morning, it would be goodbye. A quiet little bond had formed between them. He owed his life to her and she to him. That was the sort of link one could never break.
Even if we never see each other again.
In the upstairs hall, he paused outside her closed door. He could hear her moving around the room, opening and closing drawers, squeaking bedsprings.
He knocked on the door. Cathy?
There was a pause. Then, Come in.
One dim lamp lit the room. She was sitting on the bed, dressed in a ridiculously huge mans shirt. Her hair hung in damp waves to her shoulders. The scent of soap and shampoo permeated the shadows. It reminded him of his wife, of the shower smells and feminine sweetness. He stood there, pierced by a sense of longing he hadnt felt in over a year, longing for the warmth, the love, of a woman. Not just any woman. He wasnt like Jack, to whom a soft body with the right equipment would be sufficient. What Victor wanted was the heart and soul; the package they came wrapped in was only of minor importance.