Taine crept closer not making a sound. He could hear the Dark Man talking. With Janet trapped, the monster seemed in no hurry to finish the job. Instead, he was describing his plans to torture her to death.

  It matched perfectly all of the eyewitness accounts of the Dark Man's butchery. Whenever possible, the killer tortured his victims first, both mentally and physically. According to the few people who escaped the monster's wrath, he seemed to enjoy taunting his prey. Several newspaper and TV reports described in ghastly detail the mutilated condition of the corpses found at the scenes of his attacks. In many cases he cut them to pieces, one joint at a time. In others he literally skinned his victims alive.

  To Taine, the grotesque acts of sadism indicated a human mind at work. Only men tortured their victims. Supernatural beings killed with ruthless speed. Yet the Dark Man reveled in such opportunities. He combined the worst traits of man and monster. Taine knew that meant something. But what?

  Mentally struggling to link all of the clues in some logical manner, Taine crawled closer and closer to the creature. Physical attacks failed to stop the killer. He was invulnerable to ordinary weapons. Yet Taine felt sure the Dark Man could be defeated. An unconquerable evil contradicted all the laws of the universe. He just couldn't quite perceive the creature's weakness.

  He had no time left for mental gymnastics. Now was the time for action. Eyes intent on his enemy, Taine rose to his feet. Legs pounding, he charged across the roof at full speed. Less than five feet away from the Dark Man, he leapt into the air in a flying tackle aimed at the creature's waist.

  "I particularly enjoy slicing up women," Taine heard the Dark Man saying. The creature's concentration focused entirely on its helpless victim. The attack from the rear caught him completely by surprise.

  Taine slammed into the Dark Man with a solid thunk. Janet screamed, in shock, surprise and relief. The force of the tackle sent both man and monster tumbling to the shingled floor. Momentum carried them a half-dozen feet farther across the roof. The butcher's cleaver went flying off into the darkness.

  "Run, Janet!" shouted Taine, jumping to his feet. He didn't have time to see if she obeyed. In a fight, you only worried about your opponent.

  Already the Dark Man was sitting up. Years of training came to Taine's defense. Reflex action guided his every move. Whirling around for additional force, he kicked the monster at the juncture of head and body. His heel struck the creature right in the neck. Again the Dark Man sprawled onto its back.

  Hastily Taine limped away. Normally a blow like that crippled or killed. The Dark Man hardly seemed shaken. Meanwhile, half the bones in Taine's foot felt broken. Fighting the monster was like attacking a brick wall.

  "Well, well, well," said the Dark Man, rising slowly to its feet. "You surprised me, Mr. Taine. No fair, hitting from behind. Care to try that again? I'm ready for you now."

  Reaching into its coat, the monster pulled out another cleaver. Janet screamed, but Taine felt no surprise. It was all part of the Dark Man's image. Those words echoed in Taine's mind as he retreated swiftly. He headed for the trapdoor where Janet waited.

  He clenched his fists in frustration. The Dark Man's secret continued to elude him. He felt sure he possessed all the pieces of the puzzle. But he couldn't assemble them properly.

  "You can't get away," said the Dark Man. "No one ever does. In the end, I always win."

  A sudden, violent gust of wind slashed across the roof. It caught all of them by surprise. Sharp talons of air snatched the Dark Man's cowboy hat and sent it flying over the side of the building. Burning red eyes glared out at Taine from a featureless face.

  Suddenly it all made sense. Everything the Dark Man did, everything he said, combined into one astonishing revelation. Taine knew the truth.

  "Find me a mirror," Taine whispered to Janet. "Go downstairs and find me a mirror." For an instant, their eyes met and held. "And hurry!"

  Unquestioning, she slipped through the smashed hatchway and descended into the stairwell. Taine hoped she knew where to look.

  Grabbing a rotting two-by-four, he backed away from the trapdoor. Now all he had to do was stay alive until Janet returned.

  "How noble," said the Dark Man, with a chuckle. "I can't object to your heroism. After all I came searching for you, Mr. Taine, not her. Your detecting days are over. Permanently. The girl hardly matters. She hardly matters at all."

  37

  Janet flew down the hall to Taine's apartment. A few curious neighbors, having summoned their courage, peered out at her from behind chained doors. No one said a word. She was totally on her own.

  Gasping for breath, she paused for a second, leaning on the wrecked sofa for support. Without a few seconds rest, she would never be able to continue. The apartment blazed with light. Evidently the Dark Man had been responsible for the blackout. With him gone, the electricity flowed once again.

  Panting, Janet tried to calm down. Taine acted like he knew the Dark Man's secret weakness. He was counting on her to find a mirror. She dared not fail. Not even the burly detective could match the Dark Man's strength. If she took too long, Taine died.

  That last thought got her moving, though her body still ached in a hundred places. No more time to waste recovering. Anxiously she scanned the living room walls. No luck there. Taine didn't believe in decorating with glass.

  Ignoring the pains in her legs and chest, Janet headed for the bathroom. It seemed the logical location for a mirror. Hopefully Taine used one for shaving. Somewhere in this apartment there had to be a looking glass.

  Unfortunately the only mirror in the bathroom fronted the medicine cabinet. She doubted it would come loose without a hammer and screwdriver. And even if she had the tools, she didn't have the time. Starting to grow anxious, she headed for Taine's bedroom.

  "Yo—anybody here?" said someone from the front room. The caller's voice sounded like a comb being pulled over a metal pipe. Shifting direction, Janet staggered back to the parlor. Peering through the door into the apartment were two oddly matched black men.

  She immediately recognized Ape Largo. The bodyguard lived up to Taine's description as the ugliest man alive. Almost as wide as tall, he nearly filled the doorway himself. In one hand, he held a silver machete. Next to him stood an elderly wisp of a man, wearing a starched white shirt and matching pants. His gaze darted quickly from the wrecked couch to the smashed door and finally settled on her. Nodding his head in greeting, he waved one slender hand at the destruction.

  "I am Papa Benjamin," he said crisply. "This man is Ape Largo. We came looking for Mr. Taine. We hoped to warn him of his peril. Obviously we arrived too late. What happened here?"

  "The Dark Man," said Janet, the words pouring out of her in one gulp. "He's on the roof. Taine, too, fighting him. He needs help."

  "Which way?" asked Ape, his head swinging from side to side like some wild beast scenting a kill.

  "Up the stairs by the elevator," said Janet. "But don't go yet. He sent me after a mirror, any mirror. The only one here is attached to the medicine cabinet. I can't pull it free."

  Papa Benjamin turned to Ape. "Give me the Sword of La Place," he said, without a second's hesitation. "I will aid Mr. Taine. You help this young woman. And hurry. I doubt that even the Sword can actually hurt the Dark Man."

  Grasping the sword tightly to his chest, the old man went running down the hall. Janet shook her head in astonishment.

  "He's a pistol, ain't he?" said Ape, as if reading her mind. "Come on. Show me that cabinet."

  Seconds later they stood in the small bathroom. Ape stared at the mirror and then shrugged. "He really needs this?"

  "Yes," said Janet, not sure of the reason herself. "Yes, yes, yes."

  "Okay," said Ape. "I got the message. Move back out of my way."

  Opening the cabinet, Ape ran his fingers along the long row of metal hinges that held the mirror in place. "This shouldn't be too hard to break off," he said, pushing the frame all the way to the wall.

  For the next thirty seconds, Ape swung the door back and forth, trying to snap the hinges. The metal clamps bent slightly but refused to give. Janet fidgeted, counting the seconds. She could see Ape getting annoyed.

  "Enough of this crap," he said, finally, his voice thick with anger. Bracing one foot up against the wall, he grabbed the top and bottom of the mirror in his hands. Huge muscles swelled in his arms and chest as he applied pressure, twisting the frame like putty. For a second, nothing happened. Then metal shrieked in agony as the mirror shifted in his grip.

  Grunting, he continued turning. The entire cabinet shook beneath his assault. Tiny chips of wood and plaster went flying into the air. Sucking in, Ape jerked both arms diagonally at the same time.

  With a snap like a whip, the mirror came free. "Cheaply made," said Ape, tucking the metal frame beneath one arm. Seeing the look of stunned disbelief on Janet's face, he grinned. "I usta fight bears."

  They made it up the stairs to the roof in less than a minute. In the far distance, Janet could hear the wail of sirens. Finally someone in the building had summoned the police.

  An incredible sight greeted them as they crawled through the hatch into the open air. Bright moonlight, breaking through a gap in the clouds, cast an eerie glow across the top of the building. An obviously shaken Taine rested with his back to the chimney. Coat slashed to ribbons, he dripped blood from a dozen gashes across his chest and arms. A few feet away loomed the Dark Man, the butcher's cleaver glistening red in one hand. Holding the monster at bay stood Papa Benjamin. The old man wielded the Sword of La Place like a surgeon. He flicked the machete to and fro, weaving a barrier of cold steel that the Dark Man could not pass. The monster's black overcoat, cut to shreds, bore mute testimony to Papa Benjamin's skill as a swordsman. Every time the giant tried to attack, the little priest met him head-on. The sword danced in his hands like a living thing.

  As if sensing their approach, the Dark Man suddenly backed away from his intended victims. Still hatless, the monster turned its smooth, featureless face toward them. Red coals flickered in surprise when he spotted the mirror Ape carried.

  "Welcome to my parlor," he said, in the sweet mellow tones that Janet found particularly frightening. "I feel like a spider welcoming the flies to dinner. Especially you, Mr. Largo. You escaped me twice tonight. You should have left it at that. No one gets away from me three times."

  The Dark Man's head swung around to take them all in beneath the glare of its burning eyes. "Too much talking and not enough action. I've played this game long enough. Unlike the movies, this time the bad guy wins."

  "The bad guy?" said Taine, with a laugh. Hobbling over to Ape, he grabbed hold of the mirror. "Who do you think you're kidding? You know better."

  "What do you mean?" said the Dark Man, a note of fear in his voice.

  "Who are you?" said Taine, shuffling closer to the creature. "Tell me the truth. What's your name—your real name?"

  "I'm Arelim, the Avenging Angel," said the Dark Man, sounding confused. "You guessed my secret the other night. I'm the greatest sorcerer in all the world."

  "Arelim? Sorcerer?" said Taine, laughing harshly. "You poor deluded fool. You're not even a man. You're just a shadow, a monstrous reflection of the true Arelim's soul."

  "No," said the Dark Man sharply, backpedaling from Taine. "You're lying, trying to deceive me."

  "Am I?" said Taine, raising the mirror up to eye level. "Prove it. Take a look at yourself in the mirror."

  The Dark Man hesitated and then stepped forward. Reaching out, he took the mirror from Taine. Gloved hands raised it directly in front of his face.

  Janet held her breath, not knowing what to expect. Papa Benjamin muttered something in a low voice, probably a prayer. Ape Largo shuffled his feet back and forth.

  "Who are you?" asked Taine, his voice ringing in the clear night air. "What are you?"

  "I—I—I am Arelim," said the Dark Man. There was an emptiness in his voice not there a minute before.

  "Who are you?" demanded Taine.

  "I ... am ... Arelim's . . . shadow," replied the Dark Man. Each word came out softer than the one before. The last blended into the wind, almost impossible to hear.

  The mirror crashed to the roof, breaking into a thousand pieces. Janet gasped. Before her very eyes, the Dark Man wavered. He looked like a TV picture losing its resolution. The monster flickered, seemed to shrink back in on itself. His red coal eyes faded orange, then pink, as all the color drained out of them.

  "A . . . shadow." The words floated across the rooftop, merging into the night air. And with those final words, the Dark Man disappeared.

  Drawing in the first breath of air in several minutes, Janet rushed over to Taine. He looked ready to collapse. She grabbed him around the waist, steadying him. He draped one arm over her shoulders, shifting some of his weight onto her.

  Bright eyes looked down into hers, and he smiled faintly. "What happened to 'wait till tomorrow'?"

  "I changed my mind," she said, taking in one deep breath after another. "That's a woman's prerogative."

  She took in a deep breath and then another. Raw emotion swept through her body, almost overwhelming her senses. The events of the past hour had numbed her feelings. The threat of terrible, violent death, made her appreciate the gift of life so much more.

  Clutching Taine tightly to her, she stared into his eyes and let her heart speak. "I love you," she said, simply and honestly. "I love you very much."

  "I love you," said Taine, holding her close.

  And, for a moment, the horrors of the night paled to insignificance.

  38

  Behind them, Ape Largo coughed discreetly.

  "I don't want to break up this touching scene," he said, in his gravel-pit voice, "but the cops will be here any minute. We better come up with a story, fast. They don't take kindly to getting called for no reason."

  Taine frowned, and regretfully let go of Janet. The last thing he needed in his business was trouble with the authorities. Mentally, he reviewed his options. After rejecting several improbable stories, he decided to keep it simple.

  "A thief caught in the act," he said, knowing how stupid it sounded. "Janet and I returned from dinner to discover him in my apartment. We chased him to the roof, but he managed to elude us in the darkness. You and Papa Benjamin arrived on the scene after he already escaped."

  "You're kidding," said Ape, shaking his head in disbelief. "The cops ain't that dumb. You can drive a truck through the holes in that pack of lies."

  "They can believe whatever they want," said Taine. "Other than a few smashed doors, show me evidence a crime took place. Let them get a statement from one of my neighbors. I'd love to hear that conversation. I'll cover the cost of the repairs. Beyond that, nothing in the apartment was taken. If I don't file a complaint, the whole case gets filed and forgotten."

  "Yeah?" said Ape, gently nudging the shattered mirror with one foot. "How you gonna explain this?"

  "I'm not," said Taine. "You want to try?"

  "Not me," said Ape.

  "Well, hopefully, maybe they'll ignore it as well. What else can they do?"

  "What about those other cleavers?" asked Janet, staring at the dark corners of the roof. "One went flying over there."

  "It's gone," said Taine. "When the Dark Man vanished, all traces of his presence disappeared with him. The cops won't find anything linking him to us."

  Leaning on Janet for support, he motioned the others to follow. "Better to meet the police in my apartment than up here. Besides, I need some first aid. Not to mention a cold beer."

  It took less than an hour to placate the police. As expected, none of the residents on the eighth floor admitted hearing or seeing anything unusual. Taine had not summoned the patrol car and he refused to file a complaint. The officers were left with no choice other than to write off the entire incident as a foiled burglary attempt. Grumbling, they departed after a cursory search of the premises turned up nothing suspicious.

  In the meantime, Ape repaired the broken doors using several large pieces of plywood he found in the basement. While not professionally done, the patches worked better than nothing.

  "All right," said Ape, eyeing Taine thoughtfully. Taking another sip from his can of ginger ale, he asked the question in everyone's thoughts. "How did you do it?"

  They sat clustered around a small table in Taine's kitchen. Though it was well past midnight, none of them appeared ready for sleep. They had spent the last forty minutes comparing stories. The facts pinpointed the Dark Man's activities throughout the long evening. But nothing anyone said explained his destruction. Only Taine knew the truth.

  "After my conversation with Willis Royce," he began, "I felt certain the Dark Man was one of the Sheddim, summoned to our world by a member of the Black Lodge. However, like demons, the Sheddim take on many different forms. Each one requires a different ritual or exorcism to banish it from our world. Without the knowledge of what type of monster I faced, there was little chance to defeat it. If you remember, Ape, I explained that problem to Royce. He ignored me and my warnings."

  Taine frowned, trying to sort out his reasoning as he spoke. "The sadistic cruelty of the Dark Man bothered me. The creature didn't merely kill its victims, but whenever possible, tortured them as well. Beyond that, he seemed to actually enjoy what he was doing. Brutally murdering people didn't satisfy him. Instead, he needed to describe to them in great detail exactly how he planned to do it. It made no sense.

  "Another aspect of the case troubled me. The Dark Man knew too many of the secrets of the Black Lodge. He exhibited knowledge of every aspect of the crack trade, including secrets known to only the innermost circle of the Order. For all of his powers, he could not read minds. Yet somehow he knew many of the names of its victims. To me, that signaled a human operator behind his actions.