�No,� the doppelganger corrected, �You did it for yourself.� The words bored into his soul painfully, but the apparition wasn�t finished. �To correct a mistake. One you made.�

No, he thought. No, it didn�t matter � it was part of the setup, part of the role he was playing, and in any case the kid hadn�t been in any real danger . . .

�You would never have let Don take Frankie if you�d been sober,� it pointed out relentlessly. �I wouldn�t have.�

�But I had to . . . you were supposed . . .� he began, but the excuse sounded lame even to himself. Harry was right. The kidnapping was pointless; if the only way Jill would cooperate was to blackmail her, then she obviously hadn�t been the operative he�d been trying to find. But that meant . .

�Why do you want these jobs?� it asked him suddenly. �Why always narcotics-related infiltrations? There are plenty of other deep cover assignments - child porn, for instance. Why not that? Surely it�s a good cause . . .�

He didn�t want to hear any more. The room was suffocating.

�So you see, you really are me,� it concluded.

�No.�

�Why not? Am I so terrible?�

He stared up at it with loathing.

�Ah,� it said, then sighed and looked away.

Somewhere outside he thought he heard thunder rumble; the wind picked up, whistling as it rounded the corner of the house.

�So what do you think can restore your sanity?� it asked, still staring at the bedpost to its left.

�I don�t want to hear a sermon,� he spat, knowing what the thing was doing. �There is no God; it�s nothing but a man-made concept invented so people don�t have to take responsibility for themselves.�

�I see,� it told him, eyebrows raised in mock enlightenment. �So Diane suffers from a lack of taking responsibility for herself ...�

�No!� he exclaimed, exasperated. �I meant ... you know what I meant.�