The Whisperers

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Authors: John Connolly
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responded with a similar gesture.
    ‘Things have been very difficult lately,’ said Webber. His eyes grew hot, and the words caught in his throat, as though he were about to cry.
    ‘I know that. These are hard times for many.’
    ‘I’ve never acted in this way before. Thule contacted me about another matter, and I just let it slip. I was desperate. It was wrong of me. I apologize: to you, and to the foundation.’
    ‘Your apology is accepted. Unfortunately, we now have to discuss the matter of restitution.’
    ‘Half of the money is already gone. I don’t know what sum you were considering but—’
    Herod appeared surprised. ‘Oh, it’s not a matter of money,’ he said. ‘We don’t require money.’
    Webber sighed with relief. ‘Then what?’ he said. ‘If you need information on items of interest, I may be able to provide it at a reduced rate. I can ask some questions, check my contacts. I’m sure that I can find something that will make up for the loss of the grimoire and—’
    He stopped talking. There was now a manila envelope on the table, the kind with a cardboard back used to protect photographs.
    ‘What is that?’ asked Webber.
    ‘Open it and see.’
    Webber picked up the envelope. There was no name or address on it, and it was unsealed. He reached inside and withdrew a single color photograph. He recognized the woman in the picture, captured when she was clearly unaware of the camera, her head turned slightly to the right as she gazed over her shoulder, smiling at someone or something out of shot.
    It was his daughter, Suzanne.
    ‘What does this mean?’ he asked. ‘Are you threatening my daughter?’
    ‘Not as such,’ said Herod. ‘As I told you before, the foundation is very interested in concepts of free will. You had a choice in the matter of the grimoire, and you made it. Now, I have been instructed to give you another choice.’
    Webber swallowed. ‘Go on.’
    ‘The foundation has authorized the rape and murder of your daughter. It may be some consolation to you to hear that the acts do not have to be committed in that order.’
    Instinctively, Webber looked to his gun, then began to reach for it.
    ‘I should warn you,’ continued Herod, ‘that if anything happens to me, then your daughter will not see out this night, and her sufferings will be greatly increased. You may yet have use for that gun, Mr. Webber, but not now. Let me finish, then consider.’
    Uncertain of what to do, Webber did nothing, and his fate was sealed.
    ‘As I said,’ Herod continued, ‘an action has been authorized, but it does not have to be carried out. There is another option.’
    ‘Which is?’
    ‘You take your own life. That is your choice: your life, ended quickly, or the life of your daughter, taken slowly and with much pain.’
    Webber stared at Herod, dumbfounded.
    ‘You’re insane.’ But even as he said it, he knew that it wasn’t true. He had looked into Herod’s eyes, and he had seen nothing there but absolute sanity. It was possible that, with enough pain, a person might be driven to madness, but this was not the case with the man who sat opposite him. Instead, his suffering had given him perfect clarity: he had no illusions about the ways of the world, only an insight into its capacity for inflicting agony.
    ‘No, I am not. You have five minutes to choose. After that, it will be too late to stop what is about to occur.’
    Herod sat back. Webber picked up the gun and pointed it at him, but Herod did not even blink.
    ‘Call. Tell them to leave her alone.’
    ‘So you’ve made your choice?’
    ‘No. There is no choice. I’m warning you that if you don’t make the call, I’ll kill you.’
    ‘And then your daughter will die.’
    ‘I could torture you. I can shoot you in the knee, the groin. I can keep hurting you until you accede to my demand.’
    ‘Your daughter will still die. You know that. At the most basic level, you acknowledge the truth of what you have been told. You

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