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waterfalls—”
    “And that’s where things went wrong?”
    “Oh no, it was just a nice fountain. I like the sound of running water. No, where things went wrong was when I started back to the hotel, when I got to the parking lot and left the sidewalk to go down into the little woods to cross the bridge. It was such a small woods; what harm could come to anyone there? Even a rabbit or a mouse wouldn’t have felt—all right, I see you don’t care for my thoughts on these matters, so I will try to stick to the facts.
    “As I was walking down the path to the small bridge, I heard footsteps behind me, and I turned to see who it was, and it was a teenage boy. And I said to myself, ‘Why Sandor, God has placed this beautiful boy for youto have a little treat; why not take a small sip and enjoy the night a little longer?’ So I slowed my pace to let him catch up with me, which he did, just as I stepped off the footbridge.
    “Let me tell you, I was smiling. I smelled the wet earth beneath us and heard the wind in the trees above us, and I was about to have a taste of young boy to round off the pleasant evening, then perhaps go back and watch a bit of television before having a nice restful sleep. I was listening to his footsteps on the bridge, and I thought he was about to try to pass me.
    “But he didn’t. ‘Don’t turn around,’ I heard him say. And at the same moment I felt something sharp prod me in the back, something exactly like…a knife.”
    Sandor looked around at his audience, drawing out the moment.
    “I laughed, I tell you. A knife! The hunted hunting the hunter! It was too amusing. I thought, ‘Will he be surprised before this night is through! Yes, this will teach him not to go poking people with knives, the silly boy.’
    “So I played along, I did as he asked and did not turn around, and I tried very hard not to laugh. And I did not laugh—until he ordered me to give him my wallet. Thenof course I could not help but give a small chuckle. That made him angry, I think, because he cut me with the knife a bit, just in the small of my back, a tiny jab to frighten me; and I laughed even more as I told him, ‘I’ll not give you a thing, little fellow.’ And do you know what he did then?”
    The living room was quiet, as all three of them listened. Cole knew he must be the only one who had not heard this before, but Sandor was quite the storyteller, and he enjoyed holding them all in the palm of his hand.
    “He stabbed me,” Sandor said. “Right between the ribs. The blade slid into my back as if it had been greased. Now, my friend, I have not been stabbed in a long time, and I hope not to be again for many years more, because it hurts like the devil, let me tell you. Of course, because of the pain I was surprised, and while I was surprised that little shit grabbed my hair and pulled my head back and slit my throat.
    “Now, I ask you, is that any way to behave? Trying to kill someone just because they don’t want to give you their wallet? I don’t know what the world is coming to.”
    “So this boy was Gordon?” Cole asked. He thought: Wonderful; we have a conscienceless killer among us.
    “I’m coming to that. Now the wound in my back had already healed of course; as soon as he jerked the blade out I could feel the edges of flesh pull back together. But my throat! Have you ever had your throat cut, Cole?”
    “No, Sandor, I have not.”
    “Let me tell you, it is like a suitcase being unzipped. Not only does it hurt as badly as being stabbed, but everything pours out so quickly that you lose large quantities of blood even before the wound heals. I’ve never felt anything like it. I remember I put my hands up, without thinking, trying to hold it all in. It was extraordinary. He halfway took my head off. My windpipe was cut, and I could not speak, only gurgle, and even that only down in my chest. I actually got dizzy—dizzy! Woozy, like when I was a boy and we used to take turns rolling down