The Face

understand the wisdom of discretion in the matter, and would all but surely keep the existence of the gift to himself if only for the sheer deliciousness of having such a secret . But the item must be truly special, and caution is advised . Indeed, when you have read the last of this, please shred and eat.
        Ethan laughed again.
        [283] Simultaneous with his laugh, an indicator light fluttered on the telephone: Line 24. He watched as, on the third ring, the answering machine picked up, whereafter the light burned steadily.
        He could not go into the computer and edit the program to allow him to receive Line 24 here in his apartment. Only the first twenty-three lines were accessible to his manipulation. Other than Manheim, only Ming du Lac had access to the sacred twenty-fourth. A request to change that situation would have made Ming as angry as a spiritual guru ever got, which was in fact as furious as a rattlesnake teased with a sharp stick, minus all the hissing.
        Even if he’d had access to Line 24, Ethan wouldn’t have been able to monitor any call once the answering machine picked it up, because the recorder established an exclusive connection that as a matter of mechanics precluded eavesdropping.
        He had never previously been a fraction as interested in Line 24 as he was this evening, and his interest made him uneasy. If he were ever to puzzle his way through what had happened to him on this momentous day, he would need to keep superstition at bay and think logically.
        Nevertheless, when he stopped staring at the light on Line 24, he found himself gazing at the three silvery bells on his desk. And could not easily look away.
        The last item in Mrs. McBee’s memo regarded the magazine that she had enclosed, the latest issue of Vanity Fair.
        She wrote: This publication arrived in the mail on Saturday, with several others and was, as usual, put on the proper table in the library . This morning, shortly after the young master had left the library, I discovered the magazine open to the page I’ve marked . This discovery had much to do with my reconsideration of the advice I’d given you regarding the matter of Christmas gifts.
        Between the second and third pages of an article about Fric’s mother, Fredericka Nielander, Mrs. McBee had placed a yellow Post-it. With a pen, she had marked a section of the text.
        [284] Ethan read the piece from the beginning. Near the top of the second page, he found a reference to Aelfric. Freddie had told the interviewer that she and her son were “as thick as thieves,” and that wherever in the world her glamorous work might take her, they stayed in touch “with long gossipy chats, like two school chums, sharing dreams and more secrets than two spies aligned against the world.”
        In fact, their entire telephone relationship was so secret that even Fric didn’t know about it.
        Freddie described Fric as “an exuberant, self-assured boy, very athletic like his father, wonderful with horses, a superb rider.”
         Horses?
        Ethan would have bet a year’s pay that if Fric ever had dealings with horses, they had been the kind that never left droppings and ran always to calliope music.
        By manufacturing this false Fric, Freddie seemed to suggest that the real qualities of her son either did not impress her or possibly even embarrassed her.
        Fric was smart enough and sensitive enough to draw that very conclusion.
        The thought of the boy reading this hurtful drivel moved Ethan not to toss the magazine in the trash basket beside his desk, but to throw it angrily toward the fireplace, with the intention of burning it later.
        Freddie would probably argue that in an interview with Vanity Fair, she needed to calculate each statement to enhance her image. How super could a supermodel be, if from her loins had sprung any but a supernaturally super son?
        Burning those pages of the magazine that featured photographs of Freddie would be especially satisfying. Make-believe voodoo.
        Line 24 was still engaged.
        He looked at the computer, where the telephone log continued to be displayed. This call, too, appeared to be from a number screened by Caller ID blocking.
        [285] Because the connection had not been broken, the time continued to change in the column headed LENGTH OF CALL. Already it was over four minutes.
        That was a long