Grand Passion

where I could deal with it.” Cleo had never known such primitive rage. It consumed her. She was no longer afraid of Valence. “You destroyed my family, you stupid, crazy little man.”
    “Don't call me crazy.” Valence's eyes glittered with an evil light. “Those idiot psychiatrists in prison called me crazy. But they were wrong. You're all wrong. I was a professional with a perfect track record. I never made mistakes. I never failed. Your father destroyed my reputation.”
    “He didn't destroy it. You screwed up.”
    “Don't say that.” Valence took another step forward. “It's not true. I never screw up, as you so crudely put it, Ms. Robbins.”
    Cleo edged back toward the mirror. The only defense she could think of at the moment was to keep him talking. The man was insane. It occurred to her that a genuinely professional hit man would have killed her by now. “You're going to try to make people think I was murdered by some deranged person who hated my book, aren't you?”
    Valence scowled. “Even if I did not have my personal reasons for terminating you, you deserve to be punished for writing The Mirror .”
    He was even nuttier than she had first thought, Cleo decided. “Why do you say that?”
    “You are the author of a pornographic novel, Ms. Robbins,” Valence chided with the outrage of an evangelist. “You're no better than a whore. You write filth, and every decent person knows it.”
    “Decent person?” She looked at him in disbelief. “You consider yourself a decent person?”
    “I am a clean man, Ms. Robbins.” Valence's fingers flexed around the grip of the pistol. “My mother made certain that I did not dirty myself in the gutter of sexuality. I am proud to say that I have not had carnal knowledge of a woman since she showed me how obscene the act was.”
    “Let me guess. You're the product of a dysfunctional family, right?” Cleo did not know if taunting Valence would keep him talking or push him over the edge, but she couldn't think of anything else to do.
    “My mother was a pure woman,” Valence said savagely. “And she kept me pure.”
    “By keeping you for herself? I'll bet those prison shrinks had a field day with that, didn't they?”
    “Shut up,” Valence snarled. “You created a work of filth. No one will think it strange that some clean person took it upon himself to punish you.”
    Cleo realized with shock that Valence believed what he was saying. “You've got a lot of nerve condemning me for writing erotica. You're a hit man, for God's sake. What does that make you?”
    “It makes me a professional.” Valence drew a length of red ribbon from his jacket pocket. “A professional with only one stain upon my spotless reputation. But I will soon rub out that stain.”
    He started toward her. Cleo saw the glint of the wire entwined in the ribbon. She knew that he was going to put it around her neck. The same way the man in the mirror put the ribbon around the throat of the woman in The Mirror .
    Valence was going to strangle her with the scarlet ribbon.
    She opened her mouth to scream, knowing Valence would probably shoot her before she could make herself heard. Perhaps if she made enough of a racket before she died he would not escape undetected.
    At that instant the lights flickered and went out.
    “Goddamn it,” Valence shouted in intense agitation. “Don't move. I'm warning you.”
    Cleo ignored him and dove for the floor. Valence was as blind as she was, and she knew the room far better than he did. She crawled toward the door, knowing it would take several seconds for Valence's eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness.
    A soft, hissing sound overhead told her that Valence had fired the silenced pistol. The bullet splintered wood.
    At the same instant the floorboard outside the door squeaked. A draft of air from the hallway told her that someone had opened the door and entered the room. She looked up and thought she could see a dark shadow moving against the deeper shadows of the attic.
    Max.
    Her hand touched the base of the mirror stand.
    Another soft, hissing sigh seared the air in the room. Cleo surged to her feet, grabbed the mirror and its frame, and hurled it toward the spot where she knew Valence was standing.
    The mirror struck something solid and fell to the floor. Glass shattered. Valence cried out, revealing his location.
    The bright rays of the powerful flashlight that Cleo always kept behind the front desk snapped into life. They pinned Valence