time. His doctor will testify to that. He was so sick and worried he jumped to his death."

She stared at me hard. "Is it all clear?"

"Yes." I looked at her. Her long blond hair, her oval face, the slim white column that was her throat. "It's all clear. Like glass."

I poured myself a drink. I needed it. I was going to need a lot more.

"We won't be able to see each other for a long time," she said. She watched me drink. "We don't want to give our friends something to talk about."

"I won't like not seeing you."

She patted my face. I put down my drink, caged her slender hand in mine, and kissed her wrist. I saw the light blue veins criss-crossing under the delicate skin.

I brought her close to me. I kissed her warm lips. "Baby," I breathed. "Diane, baby."

"Paul, listen to me. We haven't much time."

"All right, sweet." I kissed her again.

"Come on. We can't afford to get there late."

I crouched low in the back of the racer. I heard the street noises, the gab of the night crowds, the not-so-mild cursings of the taxi-jet drivers.

It all seemed so unreal. Back there, on my haunches, a wrench gripped tight in my sweaty hand. I was going to kill a man. A man I knew, a man I respected. And for a woman. All for a woman. I thought about getting up and telling Diane to go to hell and to get herself another stooge. I thought about a lot of things. Then I thought of Diane. Her sweet white body. The way she sighed when I kissed her hard. And I knew I was going to go through with it.

The racer stopped, its jets cut off. I heard the hum as the door opened and she got out.

This was it. I sweated. It dripped down in an endless stream.

The seconds went by. Then the minutes.

They got in and the door hummed shut and I heard their laughter blending together. They settled back and the jets roared. The racer woke up to new life and it shot away.

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