Page 95 of The Paradox Club

“I doubt that,” said Montag 5. “But with October fourteenth a few hours away, you know as well as I do where she is.”

“Look, my husband will be back any minute.”

“Good,” said Montag 5, pulling his gun out from underneath his jacket. “Maybe if I threaten to kill someone you love, you’ll be a little more cooperative.”

“How I can I cooperate if you won’t tell me what it is you want?”

“I want you to tell me how to get to the island.”

“The island?”

“Don’t play stupid, Mrs. Tyler.”

“Look, I was never any good with maps, and besides Harry said Maxwell’s Island wasn’t even on a map. Even on Google Earth it’s not labeled or anything. You’d have to know exactly where to look.”

“You drove there every summer for years,” said Montag 5. “I’m sure an intelligent woman like you remembers how to get to your husband’s special place.”

“Jesus, haven’t I been through enough? That damn island destroyed my life. I don’t want to be a part of the club anymore, I don’t care what you and Pilgrim 3 are up to or what you do, I just want to be left alone.”

“You don’t want to be caught up in the politics of the Paradox Club,” said Montag 5, his tone softening.

“No, I don’t,” said Marie.

“You should have thought of that before you married Harry Maxwell.”

“You don’t know anything about Harry,” said Marie, squaring her shoulders and taking a step toward Montag 5. “Harry was more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

“I’m not here to discuss Harry.”

“Harry was kind and brilliant and infuriating and loving and stubborn and a goddamn genius.” Marie felt her throat tighten and the tears seeping from her eyes. She hadn’t defended Harry to anyone in years. She had done exactly what Tess had accused her of. She had erased Harry.

“Your husband’s genius got him killed,” said Montag 5. “And you’re going to show me where it happened.”

“And he was a good husband. And the best father,” said Marie, ignoring Montag 5. “The best father in the world.” She clutched the pendant through her blouse and felt the sharp corners digging into her palm.

“As much as I’m enjoying this little trip down memory lane,” said Montag 5, “I didn’t come here so you could reminisce about your dead husband.”

“And why did you come here?” said Marie, anger flashing into her voice. “So you could help Pilgrim 3 do the same thing she accused Harry of doing? You always were her little flying monkey, weren’t you?”

“Pilgrim 3 has no intention of causing any damage.”

“Is that so?” said Marie, shouting for the first time in the conversation. “Well, Harry had no intention of burning himself up on the island. And Vivian had no intention of helping him destroy my life. So, you can tell Pilgrim 3 that her intentions and twenty-five cents won’t buy a cup of coffee.”

“What’s going on here? I heard shouting.” David stepped through the front door and pulled it shut behind him. Marie flashed him a warning with her eyes, but before she spoke, Montag 5 stepped up to David and pressed the barrel of the gun into his side.

“Finally, the leverage arrives,” said Montag 5.

“Who the hell are you?” asked David.

“The last person you’re ever going to see if your wife doesn’t cooperate,” said Montag 5.

“Marie, do you want to tell me what’s going on?” said David.

Marie could see it all in front of her like a projected movie flickering on the wall of the hallway. Montag 5 would start out by hitting David a few times with the butt of the revolver. Not enough to knock him unconscious, but enough to cause a lot of pain. Then he’d break a rib or two, followed by a bullet to the kneecap. David would writhe on the floor, broken and screaming in pain while Montag 5 calmly explained that none of this needed to happen if Marie would just cooperate, and David would look up at her with those eyes she had never been able to resist, those eyes that had saved her from her despair, and she would break. She wouldn’t be able to allow the man who had gathered up her shattered pieces and helped her put them back together to suffer any further abuse. Why wait? she thought. Why wait for her husband to look at her with incomprehension that she would allow these things to happen to him? Why not simply act now?

“Fine,” she said, releasing her grip on the pendant. “Come with me.”

She led the way into the room that had been Harry’s study in another life. The emptiness of the bookshelves seemed an unnecessarily harsh metaphor to Marie in her current emotional state. She had given away the exercise equipment and only Harry’s desk remained in the room. As Montag 5 held the gun on David, Marie opened the center drawer and reached inside, feeling along the top of the opening until she felt a lump. She pulled away a strip of ancient tape and the emptied-out room echoed the metallic clatter of a key falling into the drawer. She removed the key, unlocked the bottom left drawer, and pulled it open.