Chapter 11: First

I ran.

I ran past the elevators and took the stairs, six flights up to fifty-one.

The elevators had a camera, and I did not want Channing's man to know where I was going.

At the top I was breathing so hard I could barely talk.

"Where is he?" I asked the guard.

"Mr. Sorrell isn't here."

"Where did he go?"

The guard looked at me for a long moment.

"Merriam," he said. "The sixth floor."

I took a car.

I did not stop for a coat, and the October wind went through my blouse.

I crossed the lobby of the Merriam with the doorman calling after me.

The east wing was unlocked.

I walked through the tall white doors into the ballroom and stopped.

He was standing in the middle of the floor, under the high windows, with his back to me.

No glove, no mask, the scarred side of his face toward the light.

I had never seen him in daylight, not once.

The morning sun came through the east windows and struck him full on.

He stood in it without turning away.

He heard me come in.

He did not look around.

"You're out of breath," he said.

"I ran."

"Why?"

"Because Channing is going to tell you something in about ten minutes."

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