Books by Clive Barker Galilee Forms of Heaven Sacrament ...

the horn and brake squeals rising from the in?tersection below, fitted his mood of dislocation. As with
London, New York was a city in which he'd had friendsonce, but lost them. The only face he would seek
out herewas Judith's.
There was no purpose in delaying that search. He or?dered coffee from Room Service, showered,
drank, dressedin his thickest sweater, leather jacket, corduroys, and heavyboots, and headed out. Cabs
were hard to come by, andafter ten minutes of waiting in line beneath the hotel can?opy, he decided to
walk uptown a few blocks and catch apassing cab if he got lucky. If not, the cold would clear hishead.
By the time he'd reached 70th Street the sleet hadbecome a drizzle, and there was a spring in his step.
Tenblocks from here Judith was about some early evening oc?cupation: bathing, perhaps, or dressing for
an evening onthe town. Ten blocks, at a minute a block. Ten minutesuntil he was standing outside the
place where she was.
64 CLIVE BARKER
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Marlin had been as solicitous as an erring husband sincethe attack, calling her from his office every hour
or so, andseveral times suggesting that she might want to talk with ananalyst, or at very least with one of
his many friends who'd been assaulted or mugged on the streets of Manhattan. She declined the offer.
Physically, she was quite well. Psycho?logically too. Though she'd heard that victims of attackoften
suffered from delayed repercussions—depressionand sleeplessness among them—neither had struck her
yet.It was the mystery of what had happened that kept herawake at night. Who was he, this man who
knew her name,who got up from a collision that should have killed him out?right and still managed to
outrun a healthy man? And whyhad she projected upon his face the likeness of John Za-charias? Twice
she'd begun to tell Marlin about the meet?ing in and outside Bloomingdale's; twice she'd rechannetedthe
conversation at the last moment, unable to face his be?nign condescension. This enigma was hers to
unravel, andsharing it too soon, perhaps at all, might make the solvingimpossible.
In the meantime, Marlin's apartment felt very secure. There were two doormen: Sergio by day and
Freddy bynight. Marlin had given them both a detailed description ofthe assailant, and instructions to let
nobody up to the sec?ond floor without Ms. Odell's permission, and'even thenthey were to accompany
visitors to the apartment door andescort them out if his guest chose not to see them. Nothing could harm
her as long as she stayed behind closed doors.Tonight, with Marlin working until nine and a late dinner
planned, she'd decided to spend the early evening assigningand wrapping the presents she'd accumulated
on her vari?ous Fifth Avenue sorties, sweetening her labors with wineand music. Marlin's record
collection was chiefly seductionsongs of his sixties adolescence, which suited her fine. Sheplayed
smoochy soul and sipped well-chilled Sauvignon as
IMAJICA 65
she pottered, more than content with her own company.Once in a while she'd get up from the chaos of
ribbons andtissue and go to the window to watch the cold. The glasswas misting. She didn't clear it. Let
the world lose focus.She had no taste for it tonight.
There was a woman standing at one of the third-story win?dows when Gentle reached the intersection,
just gazing out at the street. He watched her for several seconds before thecasual motion of a hand raised
to the back of her neck andrun up through her long hair identified the silhouette as Ju?dith. She made no
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