“No,” I stop him, laying a hand on his.

“But—,” he begins.

“It’s OK.”

I step ahead of Jerry and face the girl on the balcony. In appearance she’s thirteen or fourteen years old. Long, shiny blond hair. An innocent, beautiful face, body covered from the neck down. But appearances can be deceptive. I know she’s a woman, older than me, the victim of a cruel, unique disease.

“Hello, Conchita,” I croak. Conchita Kubekik — Ferdinand Dorak’s ex-wife — was a special friend of mine. Seeing her again, after all these years… I almost feel human.

“Long time, big guy,” she grins. “How’s tricks?”

I stop at the door to the balcony. Conchita’s leaning against the railings, playing with her hair, smirking. There’s something not right. She has a glint in her eyes that I never noticed before. But there’s no doubting it’s her.

“Why are you here, Conchita?” I ask. “How?”

“Two reasons. To pass on a message — Ferdy wants to see you — and to fly. How is easy — just spread my wings and dive.”

I frown, not certain what she’s talking about. Then I remember Adrian (“I want to be James Dean”) and my eyes shoot wide. “No!” I scream and dash for her, meaning to clutch her to my chest and protect her — I promised The Cardinal I’d look after his wife if she survived. But I’m too late. She swings away from me with a laugh, hoists her legs over the railings and lets go. She yodels wildly and plummets fifteen floors, as I did myself not so long ago.

I don’t chase to the railings. I just slump and shut my eyes to the nightmare.

“Capac?” Jerry says, bending to help me. “Who was that? Are you—”

“Go and bring me her body,” I cut him short.

“But what about Davern and the—”

“Go. And bring me. Her body.” My tone leaves no room for argument. Jerry’s seen me order people’s deaths before. He knows, the mood I’m in, I could easily order his. Saluting with a snappy “Yes, sir!” he leaves me on the balcony and goes to sweep up the debris. After a few minutes alone, listening to the sounds of the city, I drag myself back inside to my chair and the silent, lifeless puppets.