Leslie's experience? Of course!

He led the pursuers farther northward, then toward Madison Avenue. Then he cut back toward Lexington, as if hoping to have thrown them. He led them to Seventy-eighth and Lexington where, halfway down the block, he saw the sign he wanted.

READER AND ADVISER, MADAME DIANE. It was almost four A.M. but Madame Diane's lights were still on and her door was still open.

The early-morning hours were ideal for those disturbed souls needing tea readings and advice.

Thomas walked halfway down the block, then quickly cut into the gypsy's street-level door. He darted up the steps and through the corridor, receiving a surprised look from the Madame herself, who stepped into the hall and shouted at him.

Then he heard footsteps on the stairs where he'd entered. His pursuers. Thomas was down one of the back stairways and out into an alley moments later, just as Madame Diane was asking the detectives if she could help them. No, she hadn't seen anyone, she told them, but if they cared to brew some tea, maybe . . .

At the end of the alley, Thomas climbed over some abandoned wooden crates and over an iron gate which was closed at night. He jumped from the top of the gate onto the sidewalk, nearly skidding on an icy patch.

But when he looked around, no one was anywhere in sight. He ran northward two blocks, then started in a half run toward Central Park.

It was already ten past four. He hoped she'd still be waiting.

Against every bit of good judgment he had, he wanted her to be there.

He entered the park at East Eighty-first Street. He walked north- ward toward their chosen rendezvous point. He would have liked to walk slowly and cautiously, not knowing what else might be lurking in the shadows on even the coldest of nights. But he was already late.

He neared his destination, the rock formation which was shrouded with shadows a few hundred feet from the Great Lawn.

An ideal place for a covert meeting, yes. Equally serviceable for a murder. He imagined the headlines the next day.

"MAN ESCAPES.

POLICE SURVEILLANCE, KILLED IN PARK.

"Would they say that a mugger had done it? (Like Mark Ryder?) Or would the mystery woman be suspected?

Was he crazy? he wondered. Would his father have come here?

Maybe he should have let the police follow him? Or had they anyway?

No, he'd definitely lost them. Definitely.

He neared the rock formation and squinted through the darkness.

There was no sound, no movement. All he could see before him was his own breath, a ghostly cloud each time he exhaled. He tried to allow his eyes to accustom themselves to the dimness.

He was staring straight at the rocks. Gradually they took shape through the shadows. He took a step closer and continued to stare.

His eyes focused and he felt his heart jump for an instant.

A human form. Dead? Alive? Male? Female? He took a step closer.

"Tom?"

He nearly jumped at the soft intonation of the voice-it was asif it called in hushed tones from a cemetery. But he recognized it.

"Leslie," he said.

"Thank G.o.d."

"Are you all right?" she asked, implying that there'd be some surprise if he weren't.

"Yeah. Fine. I've had a day, let me tell you," he said.

"I have, too."

,I'm not surprised" he said.

There was a pause. He stepped closer to her, standing just a few feet away now. She stepped to him and gave him an affectionate kiss.

He said nothing, not knowing where to begin. She sensed his unease immediately.

"Something is wrong" she said.

He could see her face now, clearly enough to recognize her.

"I'm afraid my client owes her counsel a lot of answers" he said.

"Meaning?"

"Jacobus'" he said.

There was a hesitancy, then, "What about him?"

"You should know," he said.

"You killed him. Whoever you are."

"Tom," she said, acting hurt but shocked.

"What are-?"

"No, no "he said, his voice rising, "no more of the double talk. No more of the deception. I want the truth out of you. For once. I'm still your attorney and I'm still on your side. But I'm tired of being the dumb sucker in the middle." "I've never lied to you," she said defensively.

"Not true."

"Why?" she retorted sharply.

"It's not what you say, my dear," he said caustically.

"It's what you don't say. Right now, for example. You still haven't denied shooting Jacobus " She didn't answer. She took one step a4ay in the darkness, making him squint to see her.

"A nice little old man "he said.

"Eccentric, maybe. Quarrelsome, at times. But you killed him, didn't you? Why?"