"I have evidence," Brennan replied curtly. "Enough to convince me that it's true."
"As far as I can see, you don't have jack shit except for a deck of cards you found in some coat pocket," Jay said. "Jay makes a good point," Tachyon put in. "Do you have any proof that Hiram brought the cards to this apartment?"
"The kitchen cabinets were full of expensive gourmet foods. There was every kind of utensil you can imagine, everything a gourmet cook like Worchester would need. And the jacket was white linen, expensive, fashionable, customtailored. Size 68 long. Chrysalis was killed by an ace. How many aces wear that size?"
Silence filled the room.
Jay turned to look behind him. Hiram still sat on the corner of the bed. He was not using his gravity power; the mattress tilted ominously under his massive weight. His face was pale and damp, his shoulders slumped, his eyes still fixed on the ace of spades that lay at his feet.
The stillness lasted an eon. All three of them were looking at Hiram now. The big ace seemed oblivious until Tachyon finally, softly, said, "Hiram?"
Then he looked up, and sighed hugely. His eyes were sad and sick. "Yes, doctor?" he asked.
"Are ou all right?" Tach asked gently.
"No," Hiram said. "I haven't been all right for some time."
"This is crazy," Jay said. "Hiram, don't just sit there. Tell him that he's wrong."
"I wish I could," Hiram said with quiet dignity. "You don't know how much I wish that."
"What are you saying?" Tachyon asked, dread in his voice. "You don't mean to say that these accusations are true? "
Hiram nodded, his eyes far off and full of pain. The big man seemed to be having trouble speaking. "I… I'm sorry." Then it was Jay who had no words.
"There must be some explanation," Tachyon said. "I cannot accept this. You're a good man, a man of courage and integrity."
"Ti Malice," Jay blurted. "That fucking thing was riding you, using you, your powers, your body." He swung around to face Brennan. "You don't understand the situation. Hiram was a victim. Even if he did do it, he was only the instrument."
"No, Jay," Hiram interrupted quietly. "I appreciate your loyalty, but… it wasn't like that. It was me. Just me. God help me." He fell silent again, eyes turned inward.
"Hiram, tell us," Tachyon implored.
For a moment Hiram didn't seem to hear. Then the big ace began to speak. His voice was weary, so quiet they had to strain to hear. "I needed the kiss," he began simply. "That was why I flew back to New York that night. The last flight out, just as Jay surmised. You don't know what it was like to go without the kiss… I needed it badly."
"So I flew back up, and went to him secretly. There were always other… other mounts about. Ti Malice was never alone. When I arrived, he was mounted on Sascha. But my… my master was pleased to see me. He left Sascha and gave me his kiss."
"That was when Sascha told me. He was angry. It was an act of spite. I'd taken Ti Malice away from him, you see, and there is nothing so awful in the world. He wanted to hurt me, so he told me that Chrysalis had hired a man to assassinate Gregg Hartmann. He knew how hard I'd worked, how much hope and faith and trust I'd put in Gregg. Sascha had picked it out of her mind just that morning. He was only a skimmer, you know, the poorest kind of telepath, but her plan must have been right there on the surface of her mind."
"It didn't bother me, not then. When Ti Malice honors you with his kiss, everything seems just as it should be, and nothing can bother you. But after a few hours, the master bestowed his kiss on Ezili, leaving me alone again. That was when I finally grasped what Sascha had said. I couldn't believe it. It seemed so monstrous, so obscene. I knew Chrysalis. Not well, but I knew her, we'd spent five months together on the Stacked Deck. I couldn't believe she would do such a thing. I had to confront her. I dressed and went down to the Crystal Palace."
"She was alone in her office, playing solitaire. You have to believe me, I never intended to hurt her. I told her what I'd heard, demanded to know if it was true. She didn't deny it. She didn't say anything. She looked up at me once, suspiciously, then went right back to playing solitaire. When I pressed her, all I got were evasive, meaningless answers in that infuriating fake accent of hers. If only she'd talked to me, told me what she knew about Gregg, what she'd seen
… perhaps I wouldn't have believed her at first, but I would have listened. Dear God, why wouldn't she talk to me?"
"She didn't trust you, Hiram," Jay said, with a sad certainty. "That was how she was. She didn't trust anybody."
"I tried to make her see… how important it was. What a good man Gregg was." Hiram laughed bitterly. "I talked about his principles, his courage, his commitment to all of us, jokers and aces alike, how he was our last hope. Dear God, what a fool she must have thought me!"
"I begged her." Tears were running down Hiram's face. "If it was true, what Sascha had said, I… I begged her to call it off. And all the time she just played cards, turning them over one by one, putting them down in place. They made a little snapping noise when she flipped them off the deck, I remember. Black on red, red on black. Her face
… like a skull. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. She reminded me of death, sitting there playing cards while her hired assassin went out to do her killing for her. By what right? I asked her that, and she had no answer. I was very angry then. I made accusations, threats, told her I would go to the police. She just looked up and said that I'd do no such thing, that she knew a few things about me, too, and I knew she was talking about Ti Malice. Then she told me to get out. I refused. I begged her to talk to me, to listen to me. She just laughed, and started to get out of her chair. That was when… when. .."
His voice trailed off. Hiram Worchester looked down dully at his hands, resting on his knees. The fingers of his right hand closed slowly into a fist, then opened again, just as slowly. "I tried to make her sit back down," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I just wanted to talk to her, that's all. I swear it. She was going to walk out on me, and I couldn't stand it. So I made a fist and tried to slam her back down into her chair. I'd done it dozens of times, hundreds
… just hold her there with my power, that's all I wanted to do, make her talk to me, make her tell me the truth… tell me who the assassin was, so we could stop him. I just wanted to make her sit down and listen… but…"
Hiram broke down, choking on his own words, his immense body shaking with dry sobs. But Jay didn't need to hear any more. He remembered Chrysalis as he had found her. Her chair splintered beneath her, her bones shattered. He could imagine the rest. A fist closed in fury, a mind blinded by rage… How much had she weighed in that second? A thousand pounds? Two thousand?
"You left out the last part," Brennan said. "After she was dead, you weren't through. First you gathered up her cards, all except the ace of spades, which you dropped on the body to make them think it was me. But that wasn't quite enough, was it? An autopsy would show how she died, and that would point right at you. But the broken bones, the shattered furniture, that suggested a fight, so you did a little more damage to the office. And then, just to make sure, you knelt down and made your fist heavy so that when you hit her, it would look as though her head had been crushed by someone with superhuman strength."
Hiram sagged. "I… I couldn't let myself be caught. Without the kiss… I couldn't face that. And there was the campaign… I was an ace, a Hartmann delegate, if it got out, it could destroy everything. Barnett might even win the nomination. So much was at stake, I just
… panicked." His thick fingers pulled nervously at his beard. "It wasn't like you said… so cold… calculated."
"Wasn't it?" Brennan said. "You commit murder, try to pin the crime on someone else, and now you say it was all a mistake. I didn't notice you confessing when you thought you'd walked away clean." His gun was aimed at the center of Hiram's chest. "You were willing to let me pay for your crime, and when the cops grabbed Elmo instead, you didn't say a word." Brennan's voice was flat and calm, but Jay could hear the fury behind the words, implacable and deadly.