Chapter Fourteen

Howie was restless. He was up on the chair, down from the chair, pacing around the room, and up at the window, all in a matter of five minutes.

Watching him, Larry heaved a sigh. "Howie, can't you settle down?" he exclaimed. "We're probably going to be waiting a long time."

"I hate waiting," Howie protested. "And no one can find Mom and Dad! Why? Where are they?"

Larry shook his head. "I wish I knew," he said. "But running around like that is just going to make the wait take that much longer. The police said they'd call the minute they have any news."

"I know." In resignation Howie turned away from the window. "But I still hate it."

"That's too bad, Master Howie. Maybe we can do something about it."

Howie and Larry violently started at the new, and for Larry, familiar, voice. The man he knew as Mr. Greenbrier was strolling into the room, flanked by the same thugs who had attacked Larry at home.

Larry sat up straight in bed, ignoring the stabbing protest his stomach immediately sent up. "What are you doing here?" he cried.

Greenbrier wagged his finger at Larry. "Now, now, I wouldn't recommend getting so worked up, Larry. After all, you're still recovering from our last meeting."

Howie stared. "You guys hurt Larry?" he yelled.

"Unfortunately," Greenbrier sighed. "But I trust there won't be any need for that this time."

Larry glared. "And why is that, Mr. Greenbrier?" Ice dripped from each word.

"Because," Greenbrier said, his speech both even and deliberate, "only I know where Master Howie's parents are." He smiled at the stunned and shocked looks. "You'll come along quietly with us, won't you?"

xxxx

D. Greenbrier lived in a secluded part of the Valley on a small hill. As the groups approached in their various cars, both Della and Andy came to full attention.

"This is it," Andy declared. "I couldn't forget this place."

Della nodded. "I remember several of the children were playing on the hill when we came," she said. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth she stopped and shook her head. "Isn't it strange. Not even that really happened."

Perry's expression darkened. "And that could only mean that, based on Mr. Burger's and Paul's theory, you were deliberately given that memory," he said. "There could be no reason for that, unless someone wants us to come here."

"Then it's a trap," Andy exclaimed.

Perry nodded. "It would seem so."

Della tilted her head to the side. "Perry, you keep talking about their 'theory'," she noted. "I thought that you'd decided that they're right."

Perry sighed. "Mostly I have," he said. "I wouldn't have come this far otherwise." He reached to open the door once Andy had parked.

Della touched his arm to stop him. "I hear a 'but' in that sentence," she said quietly.

Perry froze. He looked back at her, his eyes searching hers. "It seems so fantastic, so impossible," he admitted. "Just think of it—our lives and our memories are utter, complete lies."

Della looked back. "But the truth is so much better," she said. "You and I work together. Mr. Burger is our friend. Even with Lieutenant Tragg . . ." She hesitated, then went on. "His wife is dead, but at least she truly loved him. She would never think of hurting him the way this impostor has."

Perry smiled. ". . . And then you manage to remove all of my doubts," he concluded. "Just as you're doing now."

"We have Mr. Burger and Paul to thank for this," Della said, gently. "Anything I'm doing that helps you is because I listened to them."

Perry glanced towards the door. Hamilton was getting out of his own car and moving to open the door for Mignon. ". . . You're right," Perry said at last.

Della was watching too. She smiled as Perry opened the door in determination and stepped out. She slid out of the vehicle as well.

Up ahead, Mignon was gazing at the mansion in trepidation. "Something is definitely here," she said, "something evil and dark. Even you feel it, don't you?" She addressed Hamilton with a slight inclination of her head.

Hamilton fell silent, considering the query. ". . . I feel something," he agreed. "It's not right."

Paul shivered as he exited the other car. "It gives me the willies, whatever it is," he declared.

Hamilton glanced back at him, and at Steve as he climbed out of Hamilton's car. To be on the safe side, he and Perry had insisted that neither Steve nor Paul drive, with their head injuries. They had opted to ride in the other two vehicles instead. It had been for the best, but it had meant that Hamilton and Mignon had not felt at ease conversing about their unresolved problems. In Hamilton's mind, it still felt like a thin wire of tension extended between them.

On the other hand, he sensed that things had improved between him and Paul. And before they went ahead and faced whatever lay ahead, there was something that Paul deserved to know.

He walked over. "Paul . . ." He hesitated. Paul was looking at him, puzzled, but Hamilton's thoughts were blank. How could he best say what was on his mind? He had had no trouble bursting out with his darker feelings when they had argued in the hospital. It was so much more difficult to find the right words for something like this.

"Paul, I'm sorry for what I said before," he got out at last. "It's been good, working with you. I couldn't have come this far without your help."

Paul's eyes flashed with surprise. It looked as though the proverbial feather could have indeed floored him.

"You don't have to apologize," he finally found himself saying. "We had a truce, remember?"

"Have, I hope," Hamilton said.

Paul nodded. "Right."

Something made him turn and gaze at the house, unsettling and dark as it loomed above them on the hill. At his side, Hamilton was doing the same.

"You and I should go up first," he said to Paul.

"Sure thing," Paul said, but from his tone and his expression he was not sure at all.

Hamilton did not feel much more sure. "You can catch up," he said. He started off, taking the lead.

His thoughts were tumbling. What was going to happen in there? Had all the events of the past days been leading up to this? Was Vivalene waiting inside, along with Heyes and Mr. Vann? Did they know where Tragg was?

. . . When everyone went inside, would all of them come back out?

He glanced back at the others and kept walking. He did not want to consider that.

"Hamilton."

He had just reached for the gate near the top of the hill when the strong hand fell upon his arm. He froze, whirling to stare in disbelief.

Perry was looking back at him. "I . . . wanted to tell you before we go in," he said. "Thank you . . . for not giving up on me."

Hamilton gaped. Though he tried to find the words, his mind was blank once more.

"You kept reaching out to me and I wouldn't have any of it," Perry said. "I . . . I've been too afraid to let go of how I remember things in my own mind. But the truth is . . ." He searched for the words. ". . . It no longer sounds like a fantasy that you and I could be friends."

Hamilton shook himself back to his senses. "Perry," he gasped. "You mean that." This was the Perry Mason he remembered, the Perry Mason whose return he had been fighting for.

Perry smiled. "Of course I mean it," he said. "Now, let's get in there. All of us."

The ground was starting to shake as the group passed through the gate and onto the Greenbrier property. Della jumped a mile as lightning struck a rock in the yard, not far from where they were walking. Perry brought an arm around her as they continued.

"To think, that poor Lieutenant Tragg is out somewhere in this," Della lamented. "We didn't see a sign of him at all."

"Not to worry, darlings. That will change very soon."

Now everyone started. Vivalene had come onto the porch, slinking to the edge in a sultry dress. From her smug expression she had definitely been expecting them.

"Vivalene!" Perry called angrily. "What do you mean?"

Vivalene laughed. "I mean you'll see him again," she said. "And when you do, he will be sealing the curse—of his own free will."

xxxx

The interior of the mansion was impressive. Everyone had to admit that. Through the front doors, the main hall of the abode had been transformed. With its marble floors and stairs, and the balcony that ran the length of the room, it looked every bit the part of a museum. The paintings, sculptures, and various other art pieces only completed the look.

It was the second floor, however, that immediately captured the group's horrified attention. At the top of the staircase was a large and heavy stone slab. Carved into its face were the recognizable likenesses of each and every one of them.

Della gasped. "It's us!" she exclaimed. "We're all on it!"

"Oh yes." Vivalene sashayed up the stairs, her purplish-black evening gown trailing across the smooth marble. "And observe, if you will, the mists rising from every direction of this magnificent, rare work." She ran her hand over Perry's image. Purple wisps were indeed emanating from his carving as well as the rest. They were traveling between the slab and a metal box positioned on the railing.

"What do they mean?" Perry demanded, his voice sharp and taut.

Vivalene rested against the edge of the slab, turning to face him with a sultry smile. "They are continuing to feed this little world of ours," she said. "As long as these objects are pursuing their . . . shall we say, symbiotic relationship, all of you will continue to be under our control."

Hamilton stepped forward. "But they aren't under your control," he declared. "They're all starting to remember. They're rebelling against your outrageous plot!"

Vivalene laughed. She pushed away from the slab, walking to the box. "Maybe for now," she conceded. "However, don't underestimate us! It will only take a few minutes and you will all wallow in confused limbo for the rest of your lives. Well, all except for the two of you." She nodded to Hamilton and Paul. "I think we'll keep it so you still remember. But no one will listen to you at all, not even as much as they currently have. You'll both be branded completely mad. You'll probably eventually have to go on the run to escape being cast into a nut house."

"That's not going to happen," Paul retorted. "We're going to stop you here and now!"

Vivalene straightened. "I think not." She glanced behind the slab. "Alright, darlings. Come out."

Lieutenant Tragg walked out, to the sound of collective gasps. His pace was normal, but something was clearly wrong. He offered no resistance. His face and eyes were blank.

"Tragg!" Hamilton cried. "What's wrong with you?"

Steve stared. "He doesn't look like he's even there," he breathed. "What did they do to him?"

From behind him came Flo. Her face was impassive but not without expression. She looked to the group at the bottom of the stairs.

"He's under Vivalene's control," she said. "We've taken turns playing his wife, but she's done it the most. He still sees her as Maureen."

"Then he's hypnotized," Perry deduced in revulsion. "There aren't words good enough in any language for what you've done to this man. He is devoted to and loves his wife, and you've used that against him to get him to do your every bidding!" He strode forward. "If he won't come to us, we'll go to him and bring him down."

At the bottom of the steps he slammed into an invisible wall. He stumbled back, stunned. "What is this?"

The others ran over. "Another barrier," Mignon said without hope as she touched the impenetrable force. "This one is stronger than the one around the county limits."

Vivalene smirked. "You don't honestly believe I would allow for any loopholes?" She walked to Tragg and laid her hands on his shoulders from behind. "All of you are going to be forced to stand here, watching as he sacrifices himself to the cause. And once he is dead, the spell's power is permanently sealed."

"No!" Della burst out. "No, there has to be a way to stop you!"

"Hey!" Paul exclaimed at the same moment. "This thing isn't solid for me." He had put his arm through the shield.

"For me either," Hamilton said in surprise. He had phased his hand inside.

Vivalene wavered, honestly astonished. She had not expected this, not at all. "Why?" she gasped. "Is it because you remember?"

"Maybe so," Paul said. He stepped through all the way, climbing onto the first step. "It looks like you're going to have some interference after all."

Hamilton nodded firmly, stepping up beside him. "And Tragg's going to wake up," he said. "He isn't our enemy. You can't make him into one."

"Oh dear, what a scene we're coming in on."

Everyone, even Vivalene and Flo, looked up with a jerk. Mr. Vann had just stepped onto the balcony from a room on the second floor. Tightly in his grasp was a terrified Howie. The boy's eyes were wide as he clutched at Vann's arm around his neck.

Both Hamilton and Mignon went pale. "Howie!" Mignon screamed. "How did you get him?"

"He was going to come along quietly," Vann said with a shrug. "Once I told him I knew where his parents were. Your son, I'm afraid, was not so agreeable."

"What have you done with Larry?" Mignon cried.

"He's still alive, Mrs. Germaine," Vann said in a nonchalant voice. "And he's not hurt. Well, at least not too much more. He's just been placed where he won't cause any more trouble, along with this boy's parents."

"Then that's why we couldn't find them!" Perry said in anger.

"Quite so. I can't take credit for their abduction, I'm sorry to say. But I did oversee the capture of Master Howie." Vann smiled a sickly smile. "Now I've got you at a standstill. If you continue up these stairs, I'll just have to get rough with the boy. And I'd really prefer not to." Even as he spoke he squeezed a bit harder on Howie's throat, enough to make him squirm and try harder to pull the arm away.

Hamilton and Paul froze. What could they do? It was obvious that Vann meant every word he said. And they could not risk Howie's life. But they also could not allow Tragg to die or for everyone else's lives to be dictated by this insane plot.

"No!" Howie struggled to say. "Please don't listen. Help Lieutenant Tragg." He could barely speak with the pressure on his voicebox.

Hamilton's heart twisted. Howie was trying to be so brave, despite his terror. And the sound of his choked voice was agonizing. Right now, Hamilton wanted to throttle Vann.

"We're not going to let either you or Lieutenant Tragg get hurt, Howie," he vowed.

"I really don't see how you're going to stop both," Vann shrugged. "One or the other, but not both. And no, I won't let Master Howie go."

Hamilton's temper began to bend. "When I get you in court . . ."

"Unfortunately, you won't get the chance," Vann purred.

"Look here, pal!" Paul snarled. "I've known a lot of slimy people, but you're among the worst. Using a kid to force our hands?"

Vann shrugged. "I do what I must," he said.

"We're not going to stand for it," Hamilton snapped. "Alright, we'll come down from the stairs. But you got up there some other way. We'll find where it is."

Several of the group turned to run through the house in search of that alternate route. But Vann's next words stopped them short.

"That won't be hard," he said. "The hard part will be getting up. You see, the barrier applies there as well."

"But Paul and I can still get through," Hamilton said.

"Enough of this!" Vivalene interrupted. "Mr. Vann, or should I say Mr. Greenbrier, I wasn't expecting your arrival. It certainly was timely." She smirked, but it was tight. "In the future I would appreciate being informed of any plans you or Judge Heyes have concocted."

Vann was undaunted. "The judge didn't want to let you in," he said. "He's tired of our black magic. He wants to win this victory in his own way."

"And how do you feel?" Vivalene returned. She moved back to the box.

"Oh . . . I'm perfectly alright with either method," Vann said. "I'm not choosy."

Howie looked back and forth between them. While they were distracted, Hamilton and Paul were trying to creep up the stairs. Flo, although she definitely noticed, did not stop them.

At the bottom, everyone else waited with baited breath. "I can't stand this!" Della fretted. "We're completely helpless!"

Perry laid a hand on her shoulder. "Wait a moment," he counseled. "If the barrier shatters, we have to be ready to run through it and up the stairs."

Andy watched tensely as Hamilton and Paul arrived at the top of the steps. "That other woman knows what's going on," he said. "Why isn't she sounding the alarm?"

"Maybe she's on our side," Perry said.

Steve shook his head. "Or maybe she knows she doesn't need to do anything." He stepped closer, placing his hands on the unseen wall. Vivalene could not have made this situation more maddening if she had tried. He abhorred being trapped here, seeing everything that was happening without being able to do a thing about it. All they could do was pray in desperation for assistance.

Andy turned away. "I'm going to look for that other way up," he said. "We only have Mr. Greenbrier's word that the barrier surrounds it too."

"He's probably right, but we should investigate," Perry agreed.

"I'll come with you," Mignon volunteered.

"Alright." Andy took her arm. "We'll go outside and around the back of the house."

Perry, Della, and Steve watched as they departed. But what was happening upstairs quickly brought their attention back around.

By now Hamilton was standing in front of Tragg, gripping his shoulders. "Tragg, look at me!" he pleaded. "Snap out of it! You can't sacrifice yourself for this!"

Tragg blinked, focusing on the man in front of him. "It's not a sacrifice," he said. "I'm going to Maureen. We won't be separated again."

Hamilton rocked back, staring at him in disbelief. "Tragg, you don't know what you're saying!" he cried. "You'd be killing yourself and bringing misery to everyone left behind in the process. Do you really think you'd get back to Maureen that way?"

Tragg wavered. "Mr. Burger . . ." For a split-second his eyes cleared. He shook, seizing his friend's arms. "I don't want to do this!" He was obviously in pain. The more he struggled against the mental shackles, the more agonized he became. He stumbled, crashing into Hamilton, who held onto him.

"You won't have to," Hamilton vowed. "We're going to get you out of here." He looked for his comrade. "Paul, give me a hand!"

Paul was staring at the slab, frowning deeply. "The more Tragg resists, the more this purple stuff gets piped into his image," he said. "Vivalene said this thing and the box work together, right?"

He looked to where she was arguing with Vann. By now Flo had gone over to her, tense. Vivalene looked ready to blast Vann with the box. And Howie was caught right in the middle. Andy and Mignon, who suddenly appeared at a doorway upstairs but could come forward no farther, stared in alarm.

Hamilton turned to follow Paul's gaze. "Howie!" he said in horror. "If Vivalene does anything to Vann, Howie will probably get the worst of it. I have to get him out of there!"

"Just listen for a minute!" Paul said in desperation. "If those things work together, maybe we can stop all of this—the spell, Tragg being mind-controlled, Howie getting hurt—by knocking the slab over and breaking it!"

Hamilton started. Paul had his full attention now. "You think so?" he said. He was skeptical but willing to try. By now just about anything seemed possible.

Paul positioned himself on one side of the slab. "It's worth a try," he said. "Come on, you and Tragg can help me!"

Hamilton debated with himself for only a second before hurrying to the other side of the slab. "Tragg, get over here!" he exclaimed. "Push it in the middle."

Tragg took a step forward and stopped, taking in the scene. His eyes flickered. The part of his mind that was his own wanted to help. But the part that Vivalene had taken over wanted the slab to stay in place. And as Hamilton and Paul braced themselves against it and fought to knock it down, it was that part that took control.

"No, don't!" Tragg yelled without warning. He ran forward, shoving Hamilton to the floor. Paul, unable to tip the slab by himself, straightened in shock. Tragg whirled, running at Paul now.

Paul snatched his wrists, trying to hold him back. "Stop it!" he commanded in vain.

Now Vivalene and Vann were at full attention, their argument forgotten. As Hamilton shakily got up, stunned by the attack, Vivalene was upon him in an instant before he could fully recover.

"You see?" she purred. "I knew Arthur would come through for me in the end. You've still failed. And now you'll discover another use for this box. I've been using it to kill Arthur very slowly. I can also use it to kill someone very fast."

Hamilton reached to push her away, but she lunged too quickly. She leaned in, kissing him on the lips at the same moment she lifted the lid on the box all the way. The dark force inside drilled into his body, propelling him off the landing. He tumbled down the stairs, only coming to a stop at the very bottom.

Dead silence reigned for one brief moment. Everyone stood in utter, disbelieving shock, unable to process what had just happened. Hamilton was lying at the bottom of the marble stairs, not moving. How had he got there? Had Vivalene really blasted him with the contents of the box? Why wasn't he getting up? Had Vivalene's threat come true?

The haunting shriek broke the silence and shattered all trains of thought.

"Mr. Burger! Mr. Burger!" Howie fought to get away from Vann, flailing and kicking in every direction. "Let me go to him! He's hurt! Mr. Burger!"

Vann held on tight. "Now, now, Master Howie, there's nothing you can do for him." He spoke in a calm, patronizing tone, which only served to infuriate Howie and everyone else even more.

Mignon, standing behind the barrier on the second floor, was now gripping it in horror. "No," she gasped. "Oh no." Her heart was pounding, her knees weak.

At her side, Andy drew an arm around her waist to hold her up. "There's nothing we can do up here," he said. "Let's go back down and around. Maybe he's outside the barrier and we can help him."

Trembling, Mignon managed a nod. Andy led her out of sight.

Perry had already dropped to his knees next to the motionless form. He lifted the limp wrist, searching with baited breath for a pulse. Vivalene had said her actions would kill him, but she could have been mistaken. He could have survived the blast and the fall. He could be alive but badly hurt.

He could be . . . but he was not.

Perry bowed his head, an unquenchable grief sweeping over his heart and soul. "Oh Hamilton," he whispered. Gently he laid the motionless arm across the man's chest.

Della and Steve had come over now as well. "He's dead then," Steve realized quietly.

Della sank down, the tears filling her eyes. "No," she choked out. "No, he can't be."

Perry pulled her close with one arm. "He was valiant to the very last," he said. "Our comrade and friend."

At the top of the stairs, Paul was staring. Tragg, whom he was still holding onto, had been distracted from their fight by the fall. Howie, realizing he could not get away from Vann to go to Hamilton, was sobbing quietly.

Dead, Paul thought in disbelieving shock. Burger's dead.

Suddenly he snapped back to the full situation. He gripped Tragg's wrists all the more firmly. "Look at that!" he burst out, giving the older man a shake. "Someone's dead because of this slab you're trying to protect. And because of you. You caught him off-guard so Vivalene could kill him! What would Maureen think of you now?"

Tragg looked to Paul and then back down the stairs. Slowly he pulled his wrists free, trembling at the sight. "No," he gasped. "What have I done? Oh, what have I done?"

"You've done exactly as you've been told," Vivalene said smoothly as she strolled to his side. "Exactly as you wanted. You wanted to preserve the slab, didn't you? You want to sacrifice yourself to it and be with your precious wife forever."

Tragg turned to face her. At first his expression was unclear. But then it set and he was enraged.

"I never wanted it to be like this!" he roared. "I was going to help destroy the slab. In fact, I still am!" He moved to rush to it.

Vivalene interfered, stepping in front of him with the box. "I'll kill you just as I killed Mr. Burger," she threatened. "Only your death will seal the spell for all time."

"And no one will do anything as long as I have the boy," Vann reminded.

Paul looked around, his heart sinking. They really were trapped, weren't they? There was nothing they could do. This barrier kept everyone from rushing the villains. And Vann was keeping anyone inside the barrier from fighting back. Yet they could not allow Tragg to be killed either. Did it come down to sacrificing either him or Howie? He couldn't make such a horrible choice. None of them could.

Downstairs, Andy and Mignon had come back inside. The sight of Hamilton's lifeless body sent a new wave of horror through Mignon. All she wanted was to go to him, clinging to a thread of hope that maybe he wasn't dead, maybe Mr. Mason had made a mistake, maybe he could be revived. But the commotion upstairs drew her attention there.

"Wait," she said. A quiet realization had begun to form in her mind. "What if there's another way to fight back?"

Perry looked up with a start. "What do you mean?"

"The whole purpose of the spell is to toy with and alter our minds and memories," Mignon said. "And it's our rebelling against it that has caused so much destruction to Los Angeles. Perhaps, if we focused all of our mental energy on what Mr. B- . . . what we were told our true memories are, the spell would collapse altogether."

Perry listened, frowning deeply. "It's a good idea," he said. "Only what if we cause the building to collapse on top of us? This may very well be the epicenter."

"Maybe if we broke the slab at the same time?" Paul called from upstairs.

Vivalene's lips twisted in a cruel smirk. Disturbingly, and perhaps surprisingly, she did not seem bothered. "Why don't you try it?" she said.

Paul frowned. "Just what else do you have up your slinky little sleeves?" he demanded. "You didn't want this slab busted a moment ago."

Vivalene just shrugged. "Darling, I admire your tenacity," she said. "Yours and all the others. You're so determined to fight against your fates."

Tragg walked around her and to the slab. "Let's try it," he said. "Quickly, while I'm still in control of myself." He positioned himself at one side.

Still suspicious, but not knowing what else to do, Paul got back on the opposite side.

"Now," Mignon directed from below, "concentrate! Don't think about the memories you've considered as true. Think about our other lives, the lives we were leading before any of this happened." Her words caught in her throat. The life that I could not fully immerse myself in.

It was not an easy task. The more she and the others tried to focus on what Hamilton and Paul had told them, the more the other memories tried to slip in—painful, unkind, hurtful memories. There were even some memories that were not bad at all, but still must surely be false. Push them all aside, Mignon silently told herself. Around her, the others were giving themselves similar instructions. Steve, who had only been given a crash course that day on what was happening, was bewildered. But he added his will to the others'.

The mental energy began to gradually fill the room, small at first but increasing until it could be tangibly felt. The floor rumbled underneath the group. Works of art wobbled and crashed to the hard marble.

Vann set his jaw. In fury he released Howie, shoving him aside as he stormed to Vivalene. "What's the matter with you?" he yelled. "You're letting this happen! You're allowing them to destroy everything I've worked for and collected through the years!"

"It's a small price to pay!" Vivalene retorted. "You don't really think I'd let them do this if I didn't have a backup plan, do you?" She started to raise the lid on the box. "Frankly, darling, you and the good judge have been cramping my style for a long time now. I've done just fine without either of you."

"Oh? Without me you never would have learned about that box or the slab!" Vann said in disgust.

"Well . . . that's true," Vivalene acknowledged. "And I'm thankful to you. But that doesn't change that I believe you've worn out your welcome." By all indications she was about to blast him. At the last moment she turned, firing at Tragg.

It was Howie charging her, knocking the box from her hands, that saved him. The blast struck the balcony railing instead, sending several wooden spokes raining on the group below.

Too much was happening at once. The earthquake from the strength of the rebellion was violently shaking the entire house. In a burst of protectiveness, Perry pulled Della close. As the ceiling started to split open Mignon threw herself across Hamilton's body, desperate to keep him safe from falling debris. Somewhere upstairs she heard the sound of something heavy smashing to the floor, hopefully the slab. She shut her eyes tight, focusing on the task at hand. But even as she continued to shield Hamilton in desperation, she could feel that he was too cold, too still.

Then, suddenly, everything stopped. Once again all was silent. Slowly, cautiously, Mignon looked up.

The ceiling was cracked, but very little had fallen from it. The floor was split wide in several places. Windows had shattered, glass spilling on the marble and wisps of purple mist spilling out the openings.

Paul and Tragg were sprawled on the floor. They got to their feet, kicking aside pieces of broken slab. Mr. Vann was trying to make a break for it. Paul grabbed him, delivering a knockout punch and tying him with his own tie. Flo, also on the run, was quickly stopped and handcuffed by Tragg. Vivalene was nowhere in sight.

And then Howie was running down the stairs in tears. "Mignon!" he cried. "Mignon, are you okay? Is Mr. Burger really . . ." But he trailed off at the sight of the body. "Tell me, Mr. Mason!" he begged instead. "Tell me he's alive!"

"I'm sorry, Howie," Perry said quietly, his voice taut. "I can't tell you what isn't true."

It was what Howie had known in his heart but had not been able to accept. He fell to his knees, crying for his friend and godfather.

Perry and the others bowed their heads in grief. They may have won, but it was a bitter victory. The cost had been too high.