Hawthorne reached the bottom and turned slowly on the planking, which was slippery and shook under his weight. LeBrun and Jessica were about ten feet away. The glow from the woods was brighter as the vehicle approached. Hawthorne paused to put his gloves back on, then he took several steps toward LeBrun. He could see the flicker of light through the windows of the chapel far below. Jessica’s head was turned from him. She lay as if she were already dead.

“Don’t get too close,” said LeBrun, raising his voice.

Hawthorne stopped, then lowered himself so that he was sitting about five feet from Jessica. There was nearly a foot of snow on the scaffolding, more in some places where it had been sculpted by the wind. He sat cross-legged like LeBrun, with his hands in front of him so LeBrun could see that they were empty. He didn’t speak. LeBrun’s light seemed to be getting dimmer, yellowing at the edges of its circle. Jessica’s jacket and jeans were turning white with the falling snow. They sat silently for several moments as LeBrun continued to stare down at the girl.

“Why can’t I do it?” said LeBrun at last, turning toward Hawthorne. He removed his hand from Jessica’s neck and wiped the snow from his face. He wore no gloves and his other hand was in his coat pocket.

Hawthorne didn’t answer for a moment. He could see headlights slowly coming down the road out of the woods, approaching the gates of the school.

“Let’s go downstairs, Frank. Let’s just stop.”

“Tell me. Why can’t I do it?” Now Hawthorne heard the frustration more clearly.

“You already know the answer.”

“Because she’s a girl?”

“More than that.”

“Give me a reason.”

“You can’t blame her for anything. She’s a victim, just like you.”

LeBrun’s voice rose a little. “That’s bullshit.” LeBrun reached out and grabbed the back of Jessica’s neck. Hawthorne heard her breathe sharply. He kept himself still.

“Look, I don’t know what happened to you.” Hawthorne paused, as if counting off the seconds. “Tell me about the school in Derry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. All that’s dead, it’s over and done with. I hardly remember anymore.”

“What happened before that?”

“It’s a dead time, don’t you hear what I’m saying? I fuckin’ cut it out already.”

The car was now at the far end of the driveway. It looked like a large Jeep. LeBrun glanced at it, then looked back at Hawthorne. He let go of Jessica and put his hand in his coat pocket.

Hawthorne leaned forward. “Let’s go, Frank.”

LeBrun reached out for his light and shone it in Hawthorne’s face, then he lowered it. “I got no place to go. Anyway, it’s too late for that shit.”

“Perhaps I can help you.”

LeBrun’s voice hardened. “What the fuck are you offering me, prison?”

“There’re other kinds of places. If you let Jessica go, it’ll be better.”

“A fucking loony bin.”

“I’ll try to help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” There was no regret in LeBrun’s voice, only resignation.

“Let Jessica go. Let her go home.”

LeBrun made one of his croaking laughs. “She doesn’t have any home.” He pointed toward the car, which had stopped between Hawthorne’s buried Subaru and the library. “See that Jeep? That’s her stepfather. Fucking Tremblay. Five grand down and five on completion. He probably figures I’ve already done the job. I could go down there right now, get the money, and get out of here. Shit, I could even take his Jeep.”

“He paid you to kill his daughter?” said Hawthorne, lowering his voice. He looked quickly at Jessica. Her very stillness made him realize that she already knew about Tremblay.

“Stepdaughter. He’s just another of the world’s assholes.”

LeBrun’s hands were back in his coat pockets and he was again leaning toward Jessica. “If she’d paid me to kill Tremblay,” he said at last, “I probably could of done it, no problem. You hear what I’m saying?”

Now it seemed to Hawthorne that he saw the lights of another car. “Come on, Frank, let’s go inside. I’ll help you the best I can.”

“What the hell would that be?”

“There’d be tests, doctors, you could talk about what happened to you.”

“You don’t get it. You don’t know my world. You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I can try.”

“It wouldn’t work. I’ve done too fucking much.” The frustration came back into LeBrun’s voice. “I don’t like not doing what I been paid to do.” He reached out again and grabbed Jessica’s neck. Then he too saw the lights of the second car. “What the fuck?”

Driving in the tracks left by the Jeep, the second car was able to move faster.

“If that’s the cops,” said LeBrun, the anger growing in his voice, “this girl doesn’t stand a chance.” He twisted around onto his knees, then rose into a crouch.

“Come with me now,” said Hawthorne, beginning to stand up as well. “Otherwise it will be too late.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Come with me. Leave the girl. Let’s stop this.”

LeBrun looked at him, and it seemed to Hawthorne, just for a moment, that LeBrun was weighing the possibility. Then he looked back at the two cars. “Jesus, what’s he doing?” The second car had passed the Jeep. At the same moment, Hawthorne and LeBrun became aware of the white lettering on the door and the light on top, even though it wasn’t flashing. Hawthorne recognized Chief Moulton’s Blazer. As for the Jeep, it was turning around and beginning to head back out the driveway. LeBrun was now standing on the scaffolding. “The fucker’s leaving with my money.” He looked back at Hawthorne. His eyebrows in the shadow looked ferocious and dark. “You tricked me! You planned this all along. God damn you!”

Then, suddenly, the bell above them began to ring—deep, resonant explosions, over and over. Startled, LeBrun looked up, and at the same time Jessica rolled away from him toward Hawthorne and staggered to her feet. Perhaps she bumped LeBrun or perhaps she only surprised him. Perhaps it was the ringing of the bell. Whatever the case, LeBrun took a step backward and there was nothing there, only dark space. He spun his arms, and the ice pick flew over his shoulder as he tried to regain his balance with just his right foot on the planking. Hawthorne tried to jump forward without slipping himself. The bell continued to ring. For an instant Hawthorne’s and LeBrun’s eyes locked and in LeBrun’s there was astonishment changing to fear. Both men reached out, then Jessica screamed and LeBrun was gone.

Leaning forward, Hawthorne saw him fall. LeBrun made no sound, twisting with his arms out to the side. His snow-covered hunting jacket glistened in the lights of the approaching Chevy Blazer as he flipped through the air. It seemed to Hawthorne that as LeBrun fell, the spikes on top of the fence were reaching toward him. Some were gold-tipped, some wore caps of snow. LeBrun hit the fence with a sudden clang and was impaled through his back. He screamed, a short, choked-off roar as three of the spikes pushed through his belly. In the headlights, Hawthorne saw LeBrun thrash and arch on the golden metal, then he was still. A gush of blood reddened the snow beneath him. The bell had stopped ringing and the silence felt thick and palpable. The flashing blue light on top of Moulton’s Blazer came on and swept across LeBrun’s body. A small group of people was assembled by the steps of Emerson.

Jessica was standing back by the ladder, holding on to it. She had seen LeBrun fall but she hadn’t seen him hit the fence. She pointed out across the snow-covered lawns where the Jeep’s taillights were just passing through the gates of the school.

“Tremblay’s getting away.” Her voice was at the very edge of hysteria. “He’ll kill my brother.”

Hawthorne put his arm around her shoulder. “Moulton will radio the troopers. He’s down below right now. They’ll get your brother out of the house before Tremblay even reaches Plymouth. He’ll be arrested.”