“That was part of the exercise,” Susan said.

“The exercise?”

“Finding the place,” Jessica said.

“The character’s place,” Susan said. “For a private moment,” Jessica explained.

“Finding the place for a character’s private moment.”

“We thought it might be the bar.”

“But now we think it might be here.”

“Well, it will be here,” Jessica said. “Once we create it.”

They were losing Will. More important, he felt he was losing them. That bed, maybe fifteen feet away across the room, seemed to be receding into an unreachable distance. He had to get this thing back on track. But he didn’t know how quite yet. Not while they were rattling on about… what were they saying, anyway?

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but what exactly is it you’re trying to create?”

“A character’s private moment,” Jessica said.

“Is this the place we’re going to use?” Susan asked.

“I think so, yes. Don’t you think so? Our own apartment. A real place. It feels very real to me. Doesn’t it feel real to you, Sue?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, it does. It feels very real. But I don’t feel private yet. Do you feel private?”

“No, not yet.”

“Excuse me, ladies…” Will said.

“Ladies, ooo hoo,” Susan said, and rolled her eyes.

“… but we can get a lot more private here, if that’s what you ladies are looking for here.”

“We’re talking about a private moment? Jessica explained. “The way we behave when no one’s watching.”

“No one’s watching us right now,” Will said encouragingly. “We can do whatever we wish to do here, and no one will ever…”

“I don’t think you understand,” Susan said. “A character’s private feelings and emotions are what we’re trying to create here tonight.”

“So let’s start creating all these feelings and emotions,” Will suggested.

“These feelings have to be real” Jessica said.

“They have to be absolutely real,” Susan said.

“So that we can apply them to the scene we’re doing.”

“Ah-ha!” Will said.

“I think he’s got it,” Jessica said.

“By George, he’s got it.”

“You’re rehearsing a scene together.”

“Bravo!”

“What scene?” Will asked.

“A scene in Macbeth,” Susan said.

“Where she tells him to screw his courage to the sticking point,” Jessica said.

“Lady Macbeth.”

“Tells Macbeth. When he’s beginning to waver about killing Duncan.”

“Screw your courage to the sticking point,” Jessica said again, with conviction this time. “And we shall not fail.”

She looked at her sister.

“That was very good,” Susan said.

Will figured maybe they were back on track again.

“Screw your courage, huh?” he said, and smiled knowingly, and took another sip of champagne.

“She’s telling him not to be such a wuss,” Susan said.

“The thing is they’re plotting to kill the king, you see,” Jessica said.

“This is a private moment for both of them.”

“Where they’re both examining what they’re about to do.”

“They’re planning a murder, you see.”

“What does that feel like?” Susan asked.

“What is that like inside your head?” Jessica said.

“That private moment inside your head?

“When you’re actually contemplating someone’s death.”

The room went silent for an instant.

The sisters looked at each other.

“Would anyone like some more champagne?” Susan asked.

“I’d love some,” Jessica said.

“I’ll get it,” Will said, and started to rise.

“No, no, let me,” Susan said, and took his glass and carried all three empty glasses into the kitchen. Jessica crossed her legs. Behind him, in the kitchen, Will could hear Susan refilling their glasses. He watched Jessica’s jiggling foot, her pump half-on, half-off, held only by her toes.

“So that stuff in the bar was all part of the exercise, right?” Will said. “Your suggesting we kill somebody? And then choosing your sister as the victim?”

“Well, sort of,” Jessica said.

Her pump fell off. She bent over to retrieve it, spreading her legs, the black dress high on her thighs. She crossed one leg over the other, put the pump back on, smiled at Will. Susan was back with the full glasses.

“Still some more out there,” she said, and passed the glasses around. Jessica held hers up in a toast.

“From this time such,” she said, “I account thy love.”

“Cheers,” Susan said, and drank.

“Meaning?” Will said, but he drank, too.

“That’s in the scene,” Jessica said. “Actually, it’s at the start of the scene. Where he’s beginning to waver. By the end of the scene, she’s convinced him the king must die.”

“False face must hide what the false heart doth show,” Susan said, and nodded.

“That’s Macbeth’s exit line. At the end of the scene.”

“Is that why you were dressed as a file clerk? False face must hide… whatever it was you just said?”

“What the false heart doth show,” Susan repeated. “But no, that’s not why I was in costume.”

“Then why?”

“It was my way of trying to create a character.”

“Maybe he hasn’t got it, after all,” Jessica said.

“A character who could kill,” Susan said.

“You had to become a frump?”

“Well, I had to become someone else, yes. Someone not like myself at all. But it turned out that wasn’t enough. I had to find the right place, too.”

“The place is here” Jessica said.

“And now” Will said. “So, ladies, if no one minds…”

“Ooo hoo, ladies again,” Susan said, and again rolled her eyes.

“… can we get off all this acting stuff for a moment…?”

“How about your private moment?” Susan said.

“I don’t have any private moments.”

“Don’t you ever fart alone in the dark?” Jessica asked.

“Don’t you ever jack off alone in the dark?” Susan asked.

Will’s mouth fell open.

“Those are private moments,” Jessica said.

For some reason, he could not close his mouth again.

“I think it’s beginning to work,” Susan said.

“Take the glass from his hand before he drops it,” Jessica said.

Will watched them with his eyes and his mouth wide open.

“I’ll bet he thinks it’s curare,” Jessica said.

“Where on earth would we get curare?”

“The jungles of Brazil?”

“ Venezuela?”

Both girls laughed.

Will didn’t know if it was curare or not. All he knew was he couldn’t speak and he couldn’t move.

“Well, he knows we didn’t go all the way down to the Amazon for any poison,” Jessica said.

“That’s right, he knows you’re a nurse,” Susan said.

“Beth Israel, you bet,” Jessica said.

“Access to lots of drugs there.”

“Even synthetic curare drugs.”

“Plenty of those around.”

“List them for him, Jess.”

“Don’t want to bore him, Sue.”

“You have to inject curare, Will, did you know that?”

“The natives dip their darts in it.”

“Shoot the darts from blowpipes.”

“The victims are paralyzed.”

“Helpless.”

“Death comes from asphyxia.”

“That means you can’t breathe.”

“Because the respiratory nerve muscles get paralyzed.”

“Are you having trouble breathing yet, Will?”

He did not think he was having trouble breathing. But what were they saying? Were they saying they’d poisoned him?

“The synthetics come in tablet form,” Susan told him.

“Easy to pulverize.”

“Easy to dissolve.”

“Lots of legitimate uses for synthetic curare drugs,” Jessica said.

“Provided you’re careful with the dosage.”

“We weren’t particularly careful with the dosage, Will.”

“Did your champagne taste a little bitter?”

He wanted to shake his head no. His champagne had tasted just fine. Or had he been too drunk to know just how it had tasted? But he couldn’t shake his head, and he couldn’t talk.