Page 93 (1/2)

What did I do? Did I fall before her and beg her forgiveness? Did I pick her up with my unclean hands, the hands of a killer, and tell her I was sorry for her motherless life? Did I call the police and take il beside her crib to wait for them?

None of these Coward that I was, I ran

--

And yet the night does not end there You could say it never has

A flight of stairs led froe ay At the e, I removed the knife and bloody shirt and dropped the five AM; soon the city would arise Already the traffic was thickening--early commuters, taxis, delivery trucks, even a few bicyclists, their facespastwho feels otten, more alone than a New York pedestrian, if he so chooses, but this is an illusion: our coton Square I bought a cheap baseball cap from a street vendor to hide911 was out of the question, as the call would be instantly traced Froot the number for the New York Post, dialed it, and asked for the city desk

"Metro"

"I’d like to report aon a second Who aave the address "The police don’t know yet The door’s unlocked Just go look," I said and hung up

I made two more calls, to the Daily News and the Times, from different pay phones, one on Bleecker Street, the other on Prince By this ti It seemed to me I should return to my apartment It was the natural place for o

Then I reht connect irl’s death I could not foresee, but it was, at the very least, a thread best cut quickly I took the subway uptown to Grand Central At once I became aware of the station’s heavy police presence; I was now a murderer, sentenced to a preternatural awareness of s, a life of constant fear At the kiosk, I was directed to the lost and found, located on the lower level I showed my driver’s license to the wo

"I think I left it in theto sound like one e, I think that’s how I forgot it"

My story didn’t interest her even vaguely She disappeared into the racks of luggage and returned a minute later with my suitcase and a piece of paper