“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Yes. Now I do.” Her voice trembled a little, not as steely. “My god, do you know what I said to him? To Daniel. When he asked me? What to do? I said, ‘Go ask Dieter. He’ll know what to do.’ The sensible thing. I sent him to you.”
“And now what? You want to shoot me for that? A man who was unfaithful to you?”
She shook her head. “That? Little lies. But for you, big lies. To everyone. He didn’t betray me with her—with you.” She nodded at Ben. “Let him go.”
“I can’t do that,” Dieter said calmly. “What do you think this is? It’s real now, not acting.”
But for a second Ben felt, the gun still pointed at him, that they had merged. She was still moving, glancing up quickly as if she were hitting marks, positioning them for a take, under her key.
“Go. You don’t want to see this.” Dieter raised the gun higher, to Ben’s head.
“I’ll shoot,” she said, her voice not as steady, still moving.
“No. Shall I tell you what will happen? I have to shoot him. It’s not so nice, to see that. It’s better to leave now. You won’t shoot me.”
“My father was right. You never listen.”
“Now,” he said, then clicked back the hammer on his gun.
“Go!” she yelled to Ben, but all he heard was the explosion in his ear as his body jerked. For a second he wasn’t sure whether he had ducked or whether this is what it felt like to be shot, pushed away by the blast. But it was Dieter who was staggering, the gun no longer at Ben’s head, his hand clutching his chest. “Get away!” Liesl yelled. Ben dived to the floor, rolling to the side.
Dieter stood holding himself, his eyes disbelieving, and turned the gun toward Ben again, determined to finish. Ben saw the hand come up, the red patch on the chest, a sheen of sweat, still not dead. They stared at each other, the only people there. Then suddenly, with a whoosh of air, Dieter was crumpling, one of the overhead lights smashing down on him, a terrible thud as the heavy weight hit his body, pinning it to the floor. Ben heard footsteps running on the catwalk, Liesl’s name being shouted, but his eyes were fixed on Dieter, gun hand sprawling on the floor, the heavy block of metal sliding halfway off his chest, his head already open, leaking blood. He bent over and took the gun from Dieter’s hand, not yet trusting death, then looked up at Liesl. She was still holding the gun, her hand shaking now, eyes blinking. Behind her, someone was climbing down the catwalk ladder.
“Is he—?”
Ben said nothing, his head still pounding, everything around him slow.
She looked up to the empty spot in the rigging. “I tried to move him faster,” she said vaguely, to no one in particular.
“Darling, you got there,” Bunny said, visible now, a soft reassurance. “Are you all right?”
She handed him the gun. “So now I’ve done this.”
Bunny took the gun, looking at it, suddenly queasy. He put one hand to his mouth, collecting himself, seeing Dieter’s head in the pool of blood, then the gun again, his eyes darting. He breathed out. “Whose?” he said to Ben. “Yours?”
Ben nodded. “From the Bureau.”
Bunny began wiping it with a handkerchief. “So it’ll want explaining. You must have left it lying around. On your desk. So he—” He turned to Liesl. “Go and change. Before anyone comes. You were doing lines in your trailer, waiting for him. You know how people wander. When they visit.” He held her arms. “All right? I’m sorry you had to—”
She was staring at Dieter’s body. “We were fond of each other,” she said quietly. “All my life.”
Bunny glanced at her, alarmed at the trance quality of her voice, then held her arms tighter, almost a shake. “Well, that’s what makes it worse, isn’t it? These accidents—”
“Accidents?” Ben said.
“Darling, now,” Bunny said to her. “Before the Keystones. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just stay calm. It’s over.” He looked at Ben. “Giving orders to the gate. Nobody gives the gate orders. Was that supposed to be a signal? Never mind. Off you go,” he said to Liesl. “It’ll hit you now, so be careful.” He looked at her gown. “Something simple. A blouse and a skirt. All right?” He was moving to Dieter, placing Liesl’s gun in his hand.
She came over to Ben, touching his bloody hand, then moving hers up to his forehead, brushing it. “So,” she said, a whole conversation.
“Please,” Bunny said.