Read The Givenchy Code for Free Online Page B

me, my friend, I have not crossed that line. Though, perhaps, I have danced upon it, preventing myself from falling into the abyss of madness by sheer will alone.
    Could an insane man arrange things so beautifully? Could someone without full use of his faculties set in motion the wonders I have unleashed? I think not.
    Things are going to happen, my friend. Things I couldn’t do in life, I have impunity to do in death. As John Travolta said in Broken Arrow: “Ain’t it cool?”
    All the pieces are in place, my friend. All the kinks have been worked out. I even did a little test run in November of 2004. Jamie Tate. A failure, I’m afraid, as she lacked the incentive to play my little game. I’ve remedied that, and now the game I’ve set in motion will live up to my expectations. Of that I’m certain.
    You see, my friend, I’ve done it. Brought PSW into the real world. I’ve pulled it from cyberspace and attached real people to it. Real life. Real death.
    Didn’t I tell you I was fucking brilliant?
    Now here’s the rub, Thomas. I’ve given you a part in my little drama. A small part, but so very important.
    I think you will cooperate even without incentive, but in case I’m wrong, I’ve arranged things to ensure that you don’t take steps to shut the game down, or to involve the authorities. Your daughters? Your wife? If you love them, you’ll cooperate. All I require is your silence. And, really, why would you protest? What point would it serve? I’m beyond the law now. And so is my game.
    This is going to be a hell of a thing. Wish I were there.
    Now, Thomas, read closely, because I’m setting out for your eyes alone just what it is that I have done, and what I will continue to do from six feet under….

Chapter
10
    I ’m not a runner or a jogger—I don’t even do Pilates—and yet I raced away from Todd’s place with a speed that would have put an Olympic sprinter to shame. I’d fled from Todd’s without my shoes, and now my bare feet flew over the cracked sidewalks until my lungs burned and icy-hot knife blades pierced my sides. Even with that magical push of adrenaline, there was no way in hell I could run all the way home.
    I struggled on a few more blocks, my legs like noodles, then stumbled down into the first subway station I saw. Thankfully, the line was one that would whisk me home, and when the train arrived, I collapsed onto one of the molded plastic benches, my head tossed forward as I sucked in gallons of air.
    As the train pulled away from the platform, I gathered my wits enough to look up and around, nerve endings tingling with fear. I saw a transit cop, and my first instinct was to run to him. But I tamped it back. What if he was there? What if the killer saw me talking to a cop after he’d specifically told me not to? What horrible thing would happen if I broke the rules? I shuddered, then looked around, sure that I’d see those dark eyes bearing down on me.
    But there was no one; at least, no one who looked dangerous to me, although I was fast learning to be cynical. Still, these folks looked innocuous enough. Men and women in business suits and business casual, Palm Pilots at the ready. Tourists with their telltale cameras and laminated maps of the city. Bohemian types who probably lived around the corner from me. Standard-issue subway folk, the kind I’d seen every morning since the day I’d arrived in Manhattan a lifetime ago.
    I’d never really noticed these people before, but I was noticing them now, giving each one a thorough once-over. Was one of them working with the bastard who’d killed Todd? Was one of them following me?
    I shivered, and as the train pulled into the station, the overwhelming urge to run consumed me. The doors slid open, and I burst out at a dead run. People stared, but I didn’t mind. I wanted the hell out of there.
    As far as I could tell, no one was following me, though a few folks did gawk at the spectacle I made careening up the stairs to that