The Reflection Read Online Free PDF Page A

her. And even if she hadn’t responded to that, I could have been secure in the knowledge that at least she’d read it. Instead, our last contacts dated back to the months after her departure, when I’d behaved abominably. Pestering her, stalking her, calling her up at ridiculous hours of the night … the thought was too much to bear. Then there was Speelman. Yesterday I’d felt grateful toward him. Now I felt angry. Why had he waited until it was too late? Why hadn’t he given me an opportunity to make my peace with her?
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of men come out of Esterhazy’s building. One of them well groomed, elegantly dressed, quite out of place given the surroundings. The other was the square-jawed man from last night, I was almost certain, the one who’d sat at the table smoking. I noticed that he was still in his dark suit of the night before, and that settled it in my mind. The two of them turned north, walking at a fair pace in the direction of Chinatown. Without thinking, I tossed my cigarette into the gutter and set off after them. They were in deep conversation, and the smooth-looking one was wagging his finger at the square-jawed one, but whether he was doing it aggressively or simply to illustrate a point, I couldn’t tell. Within seconds of seeing them, I was inventing little scenarios as to what they were up to, what the relationship between the two might be. The adrenaline flushed through my body as they rounded a corner, and I quickened my pace.
    A minute or so later, it was all over. By the time I’d turned the corner, they were nowhere to be seen. I sprinted ahead, scanning the sidewalks. Had they seen me? Gone into another building? Gotten into a car? I was flummoxed, furious withmyself. I couldn’t believe how quickly I’d managed to lose them. I hung about feeling stupid, then slowly made my way back to Esterhazy’s road—my heart still hammering against my ribcage, my thoughts racing. I replayed in my mind the scene of the two men leaving Esterhazy’s building. Had one of them hesitated over the broken step? I thought he had, but perhaps even this early on, only minutes after the event, I was already elaborating on my memories.
    I thought about Esterhazy’s wife. Would she be alone in the apartment now? If I wanted to see her, I just about had a legitimate excuse. After all, even if her husband was now under some other doctor’s charge, he was ultimately my responsibility, since I’d signed his papers. It didn’t make much sense, but I crossed the street anyway, then strode up the three flights of stairs.
    No answer. I knocked again. Not a sound. I’d guessed there’d be no one there, but that didn’t stop me from feeling deflated. After a minute or so, I bent down, stared through the keyhole. The same bare room I’d been in last night. A table with nothing on it. Two chairs. A bland picture on the wall. If anything, it looked even emptier in the daylight, so much so that I couldn’t imagine anyone really living there. But what about my own apartment? It was hardly more furnished. I stood up, cocked my head toward the stairwell. Once again, this suspicion that I was being followed. Ridiculous. I’d heard a noise, but obviously it was somebody scraping about behind the door on the other side of the landing. I crossed over, knocked on the other door. I could hear labored breathing coming from the other side, but still no answer until I knocked again, harder.
    “What d’you want?”
    “I’m looking for Mrs. Esterhazy, from across the landing.”
    “Don’t know nobody from across the landing.”
    “Mr. and Mrs. Esterhazy. They live on this floor.”
    “You mean the door opposite?”
    “Yes.”
    “Ain’t nobody lives there. Not permanent anyway. People come and go.”
    “What do you mean? Could you open the door so we can talk?”
    “I mean ain’t nobody lives there. Ain’t opening the door to you or anyone else. Good day to you, mister.”
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