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I wanted to look back to see if I could spot him and as I stepped off the curb to cross the street I glanced uneasily over my shoulder.
Suddenly two firm hands grabbed me by the arms and pulled me sharply back. My ankle caught on the curb. I stumbled but I stumbled backwards. A taxicab roared past me and across Fifth, against the light, inciting shouts from all sides. The cab had almost run me down.
I was badly shaken.
Of course I thought it was Malchiah or Shmarya who had saved me from this. But when I turned to see who it was, there was the young man standing there, inches from me.
“That car could have killed you,” he said. He backed up. His voice was an educated voice, in no way familiar to me.
The taxicab slammed into something or someone on the other side of Fifth. The noise was horrific.
People were going around us now and letting us know in no uncertain terms that we were blocking the sidewalk.
But I wanted a good look at this person, so I didn’t move, and he stood just a few feet from me looking into my eyes in much the same way that he had in the cathedral.
He really was young, early twenties at most. He seemed somehow to be imploring me.
I turned and walked over to the nearest wall and stood there. He came with me. This was exactly what I expected. I was bristling with hostility. I was angry, angry that he’d followed me, angry that he’d saved me from the cab. I was angry he wasn’t more afraid of me, that he dared come this close to me, that he had let himself be seen so fearlessly.
I was in a perfect fury.
“How long have you been following me?” I demanded. I was trying not to grit my teeth, I was so angry.
He didn’t respond. He was badly shaken himself. I could see all the little signals in his face, the way his lips moved without forming words, the way his pupils danced as he looked at me.
“What do you want from me?” I demanded.
“Lucky the Fox,” he said in a low intimate voice. “I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me who sent you to kill my father.”
The End
