“What if he points the police in our direction?”

“We must be prepared for that. We can, to some degree, create alibis for each other. But mainly, we must make it seem unreasonable. That’s the trick. Far better that the police simply not believe anything he says-which is what they will be inclined to do-and try to ride out any attention that comes our way. Don’t underestimate how unlikely it is that we are doing what we are about to do. And police, well, they really like simple answers to simple questions. Even simple questions about death.”

Sally paused, staring first at Scott, then Hope.

“But I don’t think he will,” Sally said.

“Will what?”

“Point the police at us. If we do this right, he won’t know.”

Scott nodded. “But, you know, I was there, asking questions. Someone is likely to remember me.”

“That’s why at some key point you will have to be miles away doing something in someone else’s presence. Like using a credit card and making a complaint someplace where there is a video camera. But on the other hand, it’s probably critical that you’re close by, as well.”

Scott sat back hard. “I see that, but…”

“The same is true for Ashley and Catherine. Although they will have a role to play.”

Again the others remained silent.

Sally took a deep breath. “Which brings us to the crucial question. The actual crime. I’ve thought about this, and I think it will have to be me.”

She waited for someone to say something, but no one did.

“I’ll have to get the gun,” Hope said. “I’m the one who knows where it is. I’ve got the key.”

“Yes. But you were there once before. You have the same problem that Scott has. No, someone else has to get the gun. You can tell me where.”

Hope nodded, but Scott shook his head.

“That’s, of course, assuming it remains where you saw it. Which is a big assumption.”

Sally coughed, then said, “Yes, but if we cannot recover the gun, we’re only partially committed. We can still pull back, then come up with a secondary plan on a new day.”

Scott was still shaking his head. “Okay, if we steal the gun. And then get it to you…what makes you think you can handle a weapon? Especially under these circumstances?”

“I’ll just have to. It’s my job, I think.”

Hope shook her head. “I don’t know about that. It seems to me that there is a certain danger-I’m trying to be like you, Sally, and think like a policeman-in Ashley’s mother committing the crime. That might make sense to a cop, you know. Protecting your child. But I doubt that any cop would think that the mother’s partner would perform this act. In other words, my distance from Ashley, her not being my own child, my own blood, protects me from inquiries, don’t you think? And I’m younger, quicker, and stronger, in case there is some actual running involved in all this.”

Both Scott and Sally stared at her. Both could see what she was about to say, but neither could muster the words to prevent her from saying it.

Hope tried to smile through a cloud of her own doubt. “No,” she said slowly, “it should be me with that gun in my hand.”

This time, I was sure I could hear a catch in her voice.

“Do you ever wonder how much of life can change in a second? So many things seem small, yet they become large.”

It was close to midnight, and she had surprised me by calling.

“Do you think,” she asked abruptly, “that we make better choices in the dark, alone, at night, when we lie in bed and try to sort through a sea of troubles? Or is it wiser to wait until morning, when there is daylight and clarity? I wonder what sort of decisions they were making,” she said slowly. “Night decisions? Day decisions? You tell me.”

I didn’t answer. I thought she wasn’t really looking for a response, but she persisted.

“I mean, how would you characterize it? You’re the writer. Was this wise? Were they taking steps that were difficult, but necessary? Or were they acting foolishly? What were the odds of success? Or of failure? They were all such reasonable people, about to embark on the least reasonable of courses.”

I said nothing as she stifled a sob.

“I have a name for you,” she said quickly, taking me by surprise. “It will, I suspect, bring you a little closer.”

I waited, pen ready, saying nothing, imagining everything.

“The end,” she said. “Can you see it? Let me put it to you this way: do you think they were prepared for the unexpected?”

“No. Who ever truly is?”

She laughed, but then the sound seemed to turn to tears. It was hard to tell over the phone line.

41

Sally looked across at Hope. They were in their bedroom, and only a single bedside table lamp threw wan yellow light across the room.

“I can’t let you do this,” Sally said.

“I’m not sure you have a choice,” Hope said with a small shrug. “I believe the decision has been made. And anyway, it’s probably the least dangerous part of the whole enterprise.” This was a lie, but how much of one, Hope was unsure.

“Enterprise?”

“For lack of a better word.”

Sally shook her head. “A bomb goes off in a marketplace, and we call it collateral damage. A surgery goes wrong, we call it complications. A soldier gets killed, he becomes a casualty. Seems to me that we live on euphemisms.”

“And what about us?” Hope asked. “What word would you choose for the two of us?”

Sally frowned. She walked over to a mirror. Once upon a time she had been beautiful. Once upon a time she had been vibrant. She barely recognized the person staring back at her. “I guess the two of us don’t know what the next day will bring. Uncertainty. There’s a word.”

Hope felt a crease of emotion. “You could say you loved me.”

“I do. It’s just myself that I no longer love.”

They were quiet while Sally looked down at her sheets of paper.

“We do this, you know, and everything will be different.”

“I thought the point was to restore everything to the same as it was before.”

“Both,” Sally said stiffly. “I think it will be both.”

She picked up a handwritten series of instructions from the top of the pile. “This has to go to Ashley and Catherine. Do you want to come with me when I speak with them? Actually, no, don’t. If you’re not there, they can’t ask you any questions.”

“I’ll wait for you here.” Hope lay back on the bed, crawling beneath the comforter, feeling a shiver run down her back.

Sally found Ashley and Catherine in Ashley’s room.

“I have some requests for you guys. Can you do the things listed here-it’s not too much-without asking any questions? I need to know.”

Catherine took the list from Sally’s hand, read it through rapidly, then handed it over to Ashley.

“I think we can do that,” she said.

“I wrote out a script and I’m giving you a disposable cell phone that I’d like you to lose after you contact him,” Sally said. “You can ad-lib, of course, but you need to get the main point across. Do you see that?”

Ashley stared at the words on the page and nodded. “Do you think-”

“Sounds like the start of a question,” Sally said with a wry smile. “The point is, you must, I repeat, you must, sell O’Connell on this trip. He has to be made to do this. And, it seems to all of us, anger and jealousy and perhaps a little indecision is precisely the concoction that will encourage him. If you can find a better set of words, by all means use them. But the end result absolutely must be the same. Do you get that? Hope, your father, and I will be counting on that. Can you act this part, Ashley, honey? Because much will ride on your powers of persuasion.”

“Much of what?” she asked.

“Ah, another question. And it won’t get answered. See there at the bottom. Bunch of phone numbers. I don’t expect you to be able to memorize them all, but it is essential that by the end of the day, this paper, and everything else, be destroyed. That’s it for now.”