Night Fall

She walked into a big storage closet filled with board games and other entertainment items and returned with a video camera, which she carried to the television, where she set it on the floor.

I offered to help, but she said, “Just have a seat if you want this done right.”

I had no intention of having a seat while she messed around with the evidence of the century, so I knelt beside her in front of the TV and VCR. I watched and asked questions as she co

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Do you want me to play the mini-cassette through the TV for you?”

“No. I trust you.”

Still kneeling beside me, she said, “You should. I could have erased this five years ago. I could have told you it didn’t exist. I played it for you.” She added, “And I trust you.”

“Good.” I asked her, “How long is this going to take?”

“The same as the original tape, obviously, about forty minutes. Do you want breakfast?”

“No, thanks.” I was getting into a paranoid mode again, and I pictured Nash and friends pulling up to the house about now. Did I really need a copy of the tape? I asked her, “Can we fast-forward to the scenes on the beach where the aircraft explodes?”

“Are you in a hurry?” she asked.

“Actually, I am.”

She turned on the TV, and the tape appeared on the screen. We were up to the part where Mrs. Winslow was performing oral sex on Mr. Mitchell. Kneeling there next to the lady, I think I actually blushed. But she seemed strangely indifferent, and asked me, “Are you sure you don’t need me to copy this part?”

“I’m sure.”

She hit the Fast Forward on the VCR, and the action sped up. After the wife-tasting party, she hit Play, and the video resumed at normal speed. On the screen, Jill Winslow sat up and said, “I’m sticky. Let’s ski

She looked at me and asked, “From there?”

“Yes.”

She stood, and I stood also, glancing at my watch, then at the TV screen, which was still showing the tape. The copying should take about fifteen minutes from this point.

She asked me, “Why do you need two tapes?”

I replied, “I lose things.”

She glanced at me, but didn’t reply. She handed me the remote control and said, “I don’t want to watch the plane. You can sit and watch it again if you’d like, then when it’s finished-when A Man and a Woman comes on-hit this Stop button, then Eject. I’ll be on the patio. Call me if you need help getting the cassette out of the video camera.”

I replied, “I’d like you to get dressed, and come with me.”

She looked at me and asked, “Am I under arrest?”

“No.” I glanced at the TV screen and at the ru

I took Jill’s arm and led her into the kitchen. I said to her, “I’m going to be very honest with you. You’re in some danger, and I need to get you out of here.”

She stared at me and said, “Danger…?”

“Let me give this to you real quick. The Federal agents who came here five years ago and took your erased tape almost undoubtedly restored that tape-”

“Then why-?”

“Listen. Theyknow what was on that tape. They don’t want anyoneelse to know-”

“Why-?”

“I don’t know why. It doesn’t matterwhy. What matters is… there are two separate groups investigating this accident. The first group, Nash, Griffith, and others, are trying to suppress and destroy all evidence that points to a missile attack. The second group, me and some others, are trying to do the opposite. That’s all you need to know for now, except that the first group could be on their way here, and if they get here, they’ll destroy that tape, and… we need to get out of here, now, with those tapes. So you need to get dressed, quickly, and come with me.”

She stood staring at me, then out the bay window, as though there could be people out there. I really wanted her to move, but I let her digest. Finally, she said to me, “I’ll call the police.”

“No. These people are Federal agents, just as I am, and they are the official and authorized investigators. But they’re part of a conspiracy.” Even as I said this, I knew there was no reason for her to believe me, and in fact, she looked at me doubtfully.

I said to her, “What happened five years ago? Didn’t you tell me that you learned that an erased tape can be restored? Did you ever hear from those people again? Were you or Bud ever called into a government office? Did you ever see anyone except Nash, Griffith, and the third man?” I said, “You’re a bright woman. Figure this out.”

She stood looking down at her feet, then looked at me and said, “Everything you say makes sense, but…”

“Jill, if all I wanted was the tape, I could take it now and leave. If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done it long ago. You need to trust me, and come with me.”

We stared at each other, and finally she nodded. “All right.”

“Thank you. Get dressed. No shower. And don’t answer the phone.” I added, “Pack an overnight bag and take as much cash as you have in the house.”

“Where-?”

“Let’s talk about that later.” I asked her, “Do you keep a gun in the house?”

“No. Don’t you-?”

“You need to get moving.”

She turned and left the kitchen. As I went back to the family room, I heard her footsteps on the stairs.

I took the remote control and sat on the coffee table, watching Jill Winslow and Bud Mitchell making love on the beach. The time on the videotape was 8:27.

The phone on the end table rang, and I listened to five rings, then apparently the answering machine picked up. The Caller ID said “Private.”

I walked quickly to the front of the house and looked out the living room window, but as of this moment, there were no cars in the driveway or in the parking space except mine. I couldn’t see much of the street from here.

I went back to the family room just as the streak of light began rising off the distant horizon, trailing a plume of smoke. I watched it at normal speed, and there was no mistaking what it was. I thought that the two hundred eyewitnesses who’d seen that streak of light would recognize this videotape image a lot better than they had recognized the CIA animation.

I watched as the first flash of light appeared, followed by the huge fireball. I glanced at Jill, sitting with her legs straddled around Bud, who was now sitting up and looking over his shoulder. I counted to forty, and heard a boom from the speakers-a loud, muffled explosion, which trailed off, followed by silence.

The phone rang again, and again the Caller ID said “Private” and again the answering machine picked up after five rings.

It was 9:15A.M., not too early for friends or family to be calling on a Sunday morning, but still maybe a little on the early side for two calls in close succession.

Jill and Bud were ru

I mean, friends and lovers sink or swim together. I didn’t even know Jill Winslow, and I was sitting here, waiting for her, while out there Ted Nash and his companions could be knocking on the door in the next five seconds. They were armed, and I was not. And I had no doubt that if they saw or understood what was going on here, they’d be desperate enough-not to mention pissed off out of their minds-to destroy the evidence as well as the two witnesses to the evidence. But here I sat, even now that I had the crucial piece of the tape copied, and I remained sitting. There can be life after mortal danger, as I discovered early as a cop, but you needed to make sure that your soul survived along with your body. If it didn’t, then the kind of life you were going to live wasn’t worth living.