Recoil

It contained a single reel of 16mm film. Ezio set up the projector on the pool table and unrolled the screen against the book shelves. Frank shut the door and turned off the lights. Enough illumination came through the closed Venetian blinds to thread the projector. Ezio set up the speaker box and plugged in the wires.

Frank said brutally, “Enjoy the show, folks.”

It began with a close-up of A

It was in color with good resolution: very professional. But A

The image of A

“She is, as you see, quite alive.”

There was a sudden cut: a daylight close-up of Merle, looking into the camera. Ezio felt Frank stiffen. He reached for the volume knob and turned it down a bit.

“She’ll stay alive if you do certain things. First, you’re to cancel immediately the contract on my life and my family. I want you to spread the word where everybody hears it. I want it to be heard where it will be reported back to me. In addition, you will similarly cancel the contracts on these three men: Walter Benson.”

Another cut: Benson was there, looking into the camera, showing his teeth—in defiance.

“… John Fusco.”

Fusco, his hair gone gray, his eyes hidden in shadow, his jaw squared in determination.

“… Paul Draper.”

Draper’s fine hair moved slowly in the breeze like seaweed. He stared blankly at them from the screen.

Ezio heard Frank murmur, “So they’re in this together.”

There was another tight shot of A

“You’ll notice the punctures in the flesh above the vein. These are the tracks of mainline needles.” The voice was harsh and cold.

The camera drew back, tipping upward; A

“At the moment her maintenance dose has been increased steadily to five nickel bags per day.”

Ezio gripped his head in both hands. Jesus.

Abruptly Walter Benson was on the screen. He talked straight into the camera. Ezio had no trouble recognizing the reedy voice. “I’ve got a bullet in my back from your contract. It won’t happen again, and we’re going to tell you why.”

Cut: Now it was Draper, speaking with slow gravity. “There are more of us than you can ever handle. We want you to know that.”

And then Fusco. “We’ve had it, Pastor. One more move against any of us …”

Cut to Merle: “… and we all come down on you like a ton of bricks. That’s a promise.”

Now there was a repeat of the opening shot; A

There was a cut that disoriented him momentarily; the camera seemed to be prying its way through a group of people, pushing foreground figures away to the sides, finding more people beyond. Draper looked at the camera and made an obscene gesture. Fusco made a fist. Benson, with an ironic twist to his mouth, lifted a plastic cup toward the camera as if in toast, and then drank. Merle was coming down the slope from a cabin above them; the camera focused on him until he moved into the group. In the background two other figures moved in and out of the view—Ezio realized they were wearing stockings over their heads. Both of them wore pullover sweaters, dark slacks, dark shoes and leather gloves. Six so far, he thought. Then the camera steadied and a seventh man appeared at one side of the frame. He did not face it; Ezio had an impression of bulk, a full reddish beard, long unkempt hair. The man milled among the others, keeping his back to the camera, and soon went out of sight to one side.

The camera cut to another view of the group, taken from a point slightly above them; Merle’s voice startled Ezio from the speaker. “These are a few of our group. There are others. You’ll notice that you can’t recognize three of the people you’ve seen in these pictures. Remember that. These three are close friends of ours. They’ve joined us to fight you. You don’t know who they are, and therefore you can’t reach them before they reach you.”

Close-up of Merle; behind him nothing but a blank off-white plaster wall. Talking directly into the camera.

“We’ve grown into a sizable force. You’re not dealing with helpless individuals anymore. We took your wife to prove a point. You’re vulnerable. You’re just as vulnerable as we are. Your wife and your unborn child are at our mercy. We’ve made a hopeless heroin addict out of her in a matter of weeks, with carefully controlled increasing doses. We can do a lot worse than that if you force it.”

A

Merle’s voice droned on: “You’ll hear from us in a little while. You’ll receive instructions. Obey them.”

Another shot of A

The screen went white; the film flapped through to its end.

2

Ezio didn’t speak. He rewound the film to its begi

Frank showed no inclination to review it. He sat in the leather chair with his fingers steepled below his chin.