"Well, pleasant dreams; I'll see you in the
morning."
After she had left the gunroom, Rand looked at his watch. It was a
very precise instrument; a Swiss military watch, with a sweep second
hand, and two timing dials. It had formerly been the property of an
_Obergruppenfuehrer_ of the S.S., and Rand had appropriated it to
replace his own, broken while choking the _Obergruppenfuehrer_ to death
in an alley in Palermo. He zeroed the timing dials and pressed the
start-button. Then he stood for a time over the old cobbler's bench,
mentally reconstructing what had been done after Lane Fleming had
been shot, after which he hurried down the spiral and along the rear hall
to the garage, where he snatched his hat and coat from the car. He threw
the coat over his shoulders like a cloak, and went on outside. He made
his way across the lawn to the orchard, through the orchard to the lawn
of Humphrey Goode's house, and across this to Goode's side door. He stood
there for a few seconds, imagining himself opening the door and going
inside. Then he stopped the timing hands and returned to the Fleming
house, locking the garage doors behind him. In the garage, he looked at
the watch.
It had taken exactly six minutes and twenty-two seconds.
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