I felt an immediate flush of anger. Suddenly he was more consummately distasteful than he'd been in that anxious jittering state when we first sat down.
"I'm not a thief," I said quietly.
"Yes, you are," he answered with amazing sympathy. "You always steal from your victims. You know you do."
"No, I never do unless... I have to."
"Have it your way. I think you're a thief." He leant forward, eyes glittering again, as the soothing measured words continued: "You steal the blood you drink, you can't argue with that."
"What actually happened with you and the Talamasca?" I asked.
"I told you," he said. "The Talamasca threw me out. I was accused of using my gifts to gain information for personal use. I was accused of deception. And of stealing, of course. They were very foolish and shortsighted, your friends in the Talamasca. They underestimated me completely. They should have valued me. They should have studied me. They should have begged me to teach them the things I know.
"Instead they gave me the boot. Six months' severance. A pittance. And they refused my last request for first-class passage to America on the Queen Elizabeth 2. It would have been so simple for them to grant my wish. They owed me that much, after the things I'd revealed to them. They should have done it." He sighed, and glanced at me, and then at his coffee. "Little things like that matter in this world. They matter very much."
I didn't reply. I looked down at the picture again, at the figure on the deck of the ship, but I'm not sure he took notice of it. He was staring off into the noisy glare of the cafe, eyes dancing over walls and ceiling and occasional tourists and taking note of none.
"I tried to bargain with them," he said, voice soft and measured as before. "If they wanted a few items returned or a few questions answered-you know. But they wouldn't hear of it, not them! And money means nothing to them, no more than it means to you. They were too mean-spirited to even consider it. They gave me a tourist-class plane ticket, and a check for six months' pay. Six months' pay! Oh, I am so very weary of all the little ups and downs!"
"What made you think you could outwit them?"
"I did outwit them," he said, eyes flashing with a little smile. "They're not very careful with their inventories. They have no idea really how many of their little treasures I managed to appropriate. They'll never guess. Of course you were the real theft-the secret that you existed. Ah, discovering that little vault full of relics was such a stroke of good luck. Understand, I didn't take anything of your old possessions-rotted frock coats from your very closets in New Orleans, parchments with your fancy signature, why, there was even a locket with a painted miniature of that accursed little child-"
"Watch your tongue," I whispered.
He went quiet. "I'm sorry. I meant no offense, truly."
"What locket?" I asked, Could he hear the sudden racing of my heart? I tried to still it, to keep the warmth from rising again in my face.
How meek he looked as he answered. "A gold locket on a chain, little oval miniature inside. Oh, I didn't steal it. I swear to you. I left it there. Ask your friend Talbot. It's still in the vault."
I waited, commanding my heart to be still, and banishing all images of that locket from my mind. Then: "The point is, the Talamasca caught you and they put you out."
"You don't have to continue insulting me," he said humbly.
"It's entirely possible for us to make our little bargain without any unpleasantness. I'm very sorry that I mentioned this locket, I didn't-"
"I want to think over your proposition," I said.
"That might be a mistake."
"Why?"
"Give it a chance! Act quickly. Act now. And remember, please, if you harm me, you'll throw away this opportunity forever. I'm the only key to this experience; use me or you'll never know what it's like to be a human being again." He drew close to me, so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. "You'll never know what it's like to walk in the sunlight, to enjoy a full meal of real food, to make love to a woman or a man."
"I want you to leave here now. Get out of this city and never come back. I'll come to you at this address in Georgetown when I'm ready. And it won't be for a week this switch.
Not the first time at any rate. It will be . . ."
"May I suggest two days?"
I didn't answer.
"What if we start with one day?" he asked. "If you like it, then we can arrange for a longer time?"
"One day," I said, my voice sounding very strange to me. "One period of twenty-four hours ... for the first time."
"One day and two nights," he said quietly. "Let me suggest this coming Wednesday, as soon after sunset as you like. We shall make the second switch early on Friday, before dawn."
I didn't reply.
"You have this evening and tomorrow evening to make your preparations," he said coaxingly. "After the switch you will have all of Wednesday night and the full day Thursday. Of course you'll have Thursday night as well up until... shall we say, two hours before Friday's sunrise? That ought to be comfortable enough."
He studied me keenly, then became more anxious: "Oh, and bring one of your passports with you. I don't care which one. But I want a passport, and a bit of credit plastic, and money in my pockets over and above the ten million. You understand?"
I didn't say anything.
"You know this will work."
Again, I didn't answer.
"Believe me, all I've told you is true. Ask Talbot. I wasn't born this handsome individual you see before you. And this body is waiting right now this very minute for you."
I was quiet.
"Come to me Wednesday," he said. "You'll be very glad that you did." He paused, and then his manner became even softer. "Look, I... feel that I know you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I know what you want! It's dreadful to want something and not to have it. Ah, but then to know that it's within your grasp."
I looked up slowly into his eyes. The handsome face was tranquil, devoid of any stamp of expression, and the eyes seemed rather miraculous in their fragility and their precision. The skin itself seemed supple and as if it would feel like satin to my touch. And then came the voice again, in a seductive half whisper, the words touched with sadness.
"This is something only you and I can do," he said. "In a way, it is a miracle which only you and I can understand."
The face appeared monstrous suddenly in its tranquil beauty; even the voice seemed monstrous in its lovely timbre and eloquence, so expressive of empathy and even affection, perhaps even love.
I had the urge to grab the creature by the throat; I had the urge to shake it until it lost its composure and its semblance of deep feeling, but I would not have dreamed of doing so really. I was mesmerized by the eyes and the voice. I was allowing myself to be mesmerized, the way I had allowed those earlier physical sensations of assault to sweep over me. And it occurred to me that I allowed this simply because this being seemed so very fragile and foolish and I was sure of my own strength.
But that was a He. I wanted to do this thing! I wanted to make this switch.
Only after a long while, he broke away, and let his gaze move over the cafe. Was he biding his time? What went on inside his clever conniving, and thoroughly concealed soul! A being who could steal bodies! Who could live inside another's flesh.
Slowly, he took a pen from his pocket, tore loose one of the paper napkins, and wrote down the name and address of a bank. He gave this to me and I took it and slipped it into my pocket. I didn't speak.
"Before we switch, I'll give you my passport," he said, studying me with every word.
"The one with the correct face on it, of course. I'll leave you comfortable in my house. I assume you'll have money in your pockets. You always do. You'll find it quite cozy, my house. You'll like Georgetown." His words were like soft fingers tapping the back of my hand, annoying yet vaguely thrilling. "It's quite a civilized place, an old place. Of course it is snowing there. You realize it. It's very cold. If you really don't want to do it in a cold climate-"