fact, I no longer knew if he was playing a game, or. . .
M AN : You—you began to suspect that he was really planning to kill you, didn't you?
G IRL : Yes. Now his glassy, staring eyes seemed to be saying: "At first, I created an imaginary character to give you a wonderful thrill. But now, having played the game this far, I'm becoming confused. How simple it would be really to kill you, and yet remain utterly unsuspected. Besides, you have a large fortune . . . which would become mine. What a temptation! For really, you know, I love someone else far more than you. But I do pity you, really I do." In those tormenting nights my fears grew stronger and stronger. And it was about this time, with my thoughts in a turmoil as we grappled and tangled in the dark of the bedroom, that I began again to taste his salty tears trickling into my mouth.
M AN : That's when you came to talk to me.
G IRL : Yes, but you said I was hysterical and tried to laugh my fears away. But, in spite of your laughter, I saw a hidden shadow in your eyes, and I began to suspect that you had the same fears as I.
M AN : You may have thought so, but that wasn't the case at all. You've always had the piercing eyes of a mind reader, haven't you? Not many people have your power of reading even the subconscious mind.
G IRL : After that I was always afraid to look into his eyes. And even more I feared that he might be able to read my eyes. Gradually the thought of his pistol began to prey on my mind. . . . One evening I saw the man in the blue overcoat outside the gate again. It was almost dark, but I thought I could see him leering at me. A cold shiver ran down my spine. And that instant I again remembered the pistol—the one hidden in the drawer of Saito's desk.
M AN : I also knew about that pistol. He knew it was against the law to keep firearms, but he kept it anyway, fully loaded, and hid it in one of his desk drawers— merely for the sake of having it, I thought.
G IRL : It suddenly struck me that the man in the blue overcoat might have that pistol in his pocket. I went immediately to Saito's desk and examined the drawer. But the pistol was there, and I felt immensely relieved. Then I had another thought. I said to myself: "Surely if the man is Saito in disguise, he wouldn't be such a fool as to use his own pistol. This means he must be planning to use a different weapon." And thus my fears kept growing all the more.
M AN : So you decided to take that pistol for your own protection.
G IRL : Yes, I took it out of the desk and kept it with me all the time. At night I even slept with it.
M AN : The existence of that pistol was unfortunate. Because if it had not existed. . .
G IRL : That's when I asked you what would happen to me if a man stole into my bedroom at night and I shot him, even if he hadn't been planning any crime. Remember?
M AN : Yes, and if I remember correctly I told you this would constitute self-defense and would not be considered a crime. Later on I was sorry I'd told you this.
G IRL : And then, sure enough, he finally came. It was past midnight. He climbed over the fence and stole into the house through the kitchen window. The first thing I knew, I saw my bedroom door opening slowly, and then I saw him. It was him, all right. He wore the same blue overcoat. His felt hat was pulled low, and his dark glasses covered his eyes—and that awful mustache! Now was the time! I pretended to be asleep, but stole a glance at him—and gripped the pistol. . . .
M AN : And then?
G IRL : I could almost hear my heart beating. I wanted —oh, how I wanted—to pull the trigger, but I waited. He was standing there in the doorway, both hands in his pockets. Somehow I felt that he knew I was only pretending to be asleep. For what seemed like an hour we both watched each other. I wanted to scream, to leap out of bed and flee, but I gritted my teeth and held myself in check.
M AN : And then?
G IRL : Suddenly he began to move toward my bed. I
M AN : You—you began to suspect that he was really planning to kill you, didn't you?
G IRL : Yes. Now his glassy, staring eyes seemed to be saying: "At first, I created an imaginary character to give you a wonderful thrill. But now, having played the game this far, I'm becoming confused. How simple it would be really to kill you, and yet remain utterly unsuspected. Besides, you have a large fortune . . . which would become mine. What a temptation! For really, you know, I love someone else far more than you. But I do pity you, really I do." In those tormenting nights my fears grew stronger and stronger. And it was about this time, with my thoughts in a turmoil as we grappled and tangled in the dark of the bedroom, that I began again to taste his salty tears trickling into my mouth.
M AN : That's when you came to talk to me.
G IRL : Yes, but you said I was hysterical and tried to laugh my fears away. But, in spite of your laughter, I saw a hidden shadow in your eyes, and I began to suspect that you had the same fears as I.
M AN : You may have thought so, but that wasn't the case at all. You've always had the piercing eyes of a mind reader, haven't you? Not many people have your power of reading even the subconscious mind.
G IRL : After that I was always afraid to look into his eyes. And even more I feared that he might be able to read my eyes. Gradually the thought of his pistol began to prey on my mind. . . . One evening I saw the man in the blue overcoat outside the gate again. It was almost dark, but I thought I could see him leering at me. A cold shiver ran down my spine. And that instant I again remembered the pistol—the one hidden in the drawer of Saito's desk.
M AN : I also knew about that pistol. He knew it was against the law to keep firearms, but he kept it anyway, fully loaded, and hid it in one of his desk drawers— merely for the sake of having it, I thought.
G IRL : It suddenly struck me that the man in the blue overcoat might have that pistol in his pocket. I went immediately to Saito's desk and examined the drawer. But the pistol was there, and I felt immensely relieved. Then I had another thought. I said to myself: "Surely if the man is Saito in disguise, he wouldn't be such a fool as to use his own pistol. This means he must be planning to use a different weapon." And thus my fears kept growing all the more.
M AN : So you decided to take that pistol for your own protection.
G IRL : Yes, I took it out of the desk and kept it with me all the time. At night I even slept with it.
M AN : The existence of that pistol was unfortunate. Because if it had not existed. . .
G IRL : That's when I asked you what would happen to me if a man stole into my bedroom at night and I shot him, even if he hadn't been planning any crime. Remember?
M AN : Yes, and if I remember correctly I told you this would constitute self-defense and would not be considered a crime. Later on I was sorry I'd told you this.
G IRL : And then, sure enough, he finally came. It was past midnight. He climbed over the fence and stole into the house through the kitchen window. The first thing I knew, I saw my bedroom door opening slowly, and then I saw him. It was him, all right. He wore the same blue overcoat. His felt hat was pulled low, and his dark glasses covered his eyes—and that awful mustache! Now was the time! I pretended to be asleep, but stole a glance at him—and gripped the pistol. . . .
M AN : And then?
G IRL : I could almost hear my heart beating. I wanted —oh, how I wanted—to pull the trigger, but I waited. He was standing there in the doorway, both hands in his pockets. Somehow I felt that he knew I was only pretending to be asleep. For what seemed like an hour we both watched each other. I wanted to scream, to leap out of bed and flee, but I gritted my teeth and held myself in check.
M AN : And then?
G IRL : Suddenly he began to move toward my bed. I
Similar Books
