“As if I could!” I turned from her bitterly, filled with unexpected grief: I did not want to lose her presence even though I had lost her or, rather, never possessed more of her than that one bright instant years before on the California coast when we had both realized with the unexpected clarity of the lovers we were not that our lives had come to the same point at the same moment and the knowledge of this confluence was the one splendor I had known, the single hope, the unique passion of my life. “Don’t miss me, Gene. I couldn’t bear that.” She put her hand on my arm. I walked away, not able to bear her touch. Then they came. Paul and Stokharin were in the study. Iris gasped and stepped back when she saw them. I spun about just as Paul shouted: “It won’t work, Iris! Give it up.” “Get out of here, Paul.” Her voice was strong. “You have no right here.” “I have as much right as you. Now tell me whose idea was it? yours? or was it John’s? or Gene’s? since he seems to enjoy playing both sides.” “Get out. All of you.” She moved to the old-fashioned bell cord which hung beside Cave’s massive desk. “Don’t bother,” said Paul. “No one will come.” Iris, her eyes wide now with fear, tugged the cord twice: the second time it broke off in her hand. There was no response. Paul looked grim. “I’m sorry to have to do it this way but you’ve left me no choice. You can’t leave, either of you.” “You read....” “I saw the release. It won’t work.” “Why not? It’s what you’ve wanted all along. Everything will be yours. There’ll be nobody to stop you. John will be dead and I’ll be gone for good. You’ll never see me again ... why must you interfere?” She spoke quickly, plausibly but the false proportion was evident now, even to me: the plan was tumbling down at Paul’s assault. “Iris, I’m not a complete fool. I know perfectly well that Cave has no intention of killing himself and that....” “Why do you think I’m going with him? to send you the body back for the ceremony which you’ll perform right here, publicly....” “Iris.” He looked at her for a long moment. Then: “If you two leave as planned tonight (I’ve canceled the helicopter by the way) there will be no body, no embalming, no ceremony, no point ... only a mystery which might very well undo all our work. I can’t allow that. Cave must die here, before morning. We might have put it off but your announcement has already leaked out. There’ll be a million people out there in the street tomorrow. We’ll have to show them Cave’s body.” Iris swayed; I moved quickly to her side and held her arm. “It’s three to two, Paul,” I said. “I assume we’re still directors. Three of us have agreed that Cave and Iris leave. That’s final.” But my bluff was humiliatingly weak; it was ignored. “The penthouse,” said Paul softly, “is empty ... just the five of us here. The Doctor and I are armed. Take us in to him.” “No.” Iris moved instinctively, fatally, to the door which led to Cave, as if to guard it with her body.