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Riviera
seemed
to
relax
slightly
.
He
raised
his
head
,
but
kept
his
eyes
closed
.
'
I
’
d
always
lived
in
the
room
,
’
he
said
.
'
I
couldn
’
t
remember
ever
having
lived
in
any
other
room
.
’
The
room
’
s
walls
were
yellowed
white
plaster
.
It
contained
two
pieces
of
furniture
.
One
was
a
plain
wooden
chair
,
the
other
an
iron
bedstead
painted
white
.
The
paint
had
chipped
and
flaked
,
revealing
the
black
iron
.
The
mattress
on
the
bed
was
bare
.
Stained
ticking
with
faded
brown
stripes
.
A
single
bulb
dangled
above
the
bed
on
a
twisted
length
of
black
wire
.
Case
could
see
the
thick
coating
of
dust
on
the
bulb
’
s
upper
curve
.
Riviera
opened
his
eyes
.
'
I
’
d
been
alone
in
the
room
,
always
.
’
He
sat
on
the
chair
,
facing
the
bed
.
The
blue
coals
still
burned
in
the
black
flower
on
his
lapel
.
'
I
don
’
t
know
when
I
first
began
to
dream
of
her
,
’
he
said
,
'
but
I
do
remember
that
at
first
she
was
only
a
haze
,
a
shadow
.
’
There
was
something
on
the
bed
.
Case
blinked
.
Gone
.
'
I
couldn
’
t
quite
hold
her
,
hold
her
in
my
mind
.
But
I
wanted
to
hold
her
,
hold
her
and
more
.
.
.
’
His
voice
carried
perfectly
in
the
hush
of
the
restaurant
.
Ice
clicked
against
the
side
of
a
glass
.
Someone
giggled
.
Someone
else
asked
a
whispered
question
in
Japanese
.
'
I
decided
that
if
I
could
visualize
some
part
of
her
,
only
a
small
part
,
if
I
could
see
that
part
perfectly
,
in
the
most
perfect
detail
.
.
.
’
A
woman
’
s
hand
lay
on
the
mattress
now
,
palm
up
,
the
white
fingers
pale
.
Riviera
leaned
forward
,
picked
up
the
hand
,
and
began
to
stroke
it
gently
.
The
fingers
moved
.
Riviera
raised
the
hand
to
his
mouth
and
began
to
lick
the
tips
of
the
fingers
.
The
nails
were
coated
with
a
burgundy
lacquer
.
A
hand
,
Case
saw
,
but
not
a
severed
hand
;
the
skin
swept
back
smoothly
,
unbroken
and
unscarred
.
He
remembered
a
tattooed
lozenge
of
vatgrown
flesh
in
the
window
of
a
Ninsei
surgical
boutique
.
Riviera
was
holding
the
hand
to
his
lips
,
licking
its
palm
.
The
fingers
tentatively
caressed
his
face
.
But
now
a
second
hand
lay
on
the
bed
.
When
Riviera
reached
for
it
,
the
fingers
of
the
first
were
locked
around
his
wrist
,
a
bracelet
of
flesh
and
bone
.
The
act
progressed
with
a
surreal
internal
logic
of
its
own
.
The
arms
were
next
.
Feet
.
Legs
.
The
legs
were
very
beautiful
.
Case
’
s
head
throbbed
.
His
throat
was
dry
.
He
drank
the
last
of
the
wine
.
Riviera
was
in
the
bed
now
,
naked
.
His
clothing
had
been
a
part
of
the
projection
,
but
Case
couldn
’
t
remember
seeing
it
fade
away
.
The
black
flower
lay
at
the
foot
of
the
bed
,
still
seething
with
its
blue
inner
flame
.
Then
the
torso
formed
,
as
Riviera
caressed
it
into
being
,
white
,
headless
,
and
perfect
,
sheened
with
the
faintest
gloss
of
sweat
.
