second time.
'Weber told him that he hated the idea but, in the circumstances, he’d have to say it was theoretically possible,' said Klinsman. 'Weber just wanted us to know that it’s nothing personal and he doesn’t believe for a moment that that’s what happened.’
‘ Nice of him.’
‘ He really doesn’t have much choice in the matter,’ said Klinsman.
'Right,' said Macandrew.
‘ Weber says he’ll point that out if he gets the chance.’
'Thanks for letting me know.'
'Least I could do,' replied Klinsman.
Macandrew put the phone down and went downstairs to rejoin the Jacksons. He would sit through the remainder of their holiday slides on autopilot.
'Everything all right Mac?' asked Ginny as he slipped back into the room.
'Just fine, Ginny. Sorry about that.'
'This is us up at Mill Glade,' announced Mort as the next slide came up. 'That's Charlotte's friend, Sandy with us there and that's her dog, Rupert.'
'Rufus,' corrected Ginny.
'Sorry, Rufus,' conceded Mort.
'And this is us up near Jansen Creek: real pretty country up there.'
'Looks it,' agreed Macandrew, suddenly realising that a comment was called for.
'More wine, Mac?' asked Ginny in a whisper.
'Please,' replied Macandrew.
Ginny moved across the room to the table in front of the window; she did it in a crouch to avoid the projector beam but totally without success as her shadow filled the screen.
'This was a Saskwatch we saw while we were up there' joked Mort, winking at Macandrew when he saw that Ginny didn't realise she was the butt of the joke.
'And this is us with Clint, Daisy and Charlotte on the day we went down to the county fair . . .'
CRASH! The front window of the room exploded in a million shards of glass and Ginny reeled backwards with blood streaming down her face to fall on the floor. The glass of wine she had been pouring for Macandrew flew from her grasp and splashed across the screen.
'What the . . . ' exclaimed Mort. 'Ginny! Ginny!'
Macandrew beat him in the race to get to Ginny and was already assessing the damage. 'Get me a clean towel Mort,' he said. 'Quick as you can.'
‘ Is she gonna be all right?' asked Mort as he handed over the cloth and hovered over Macandrew and the unconscious Ginny.
Macandrew cleared the blood away from Ginny's face and stemmed the flow from the major cuts. Something had come through the window and hit Ginny on the forehead, something heavy. It had knocked her out but she would be all right. He said so to Mort.
'Thank God,' exclaimed Mort. 'What the hell was it?'
Mort started hunting round the room as the hollow in Macandrew's stomach started to grow.
'Jesus H Christ!' exclaimed Mort. He had found something and was picking it up gingerly to avoid the broken glass. 'What do you make of this?' he asked.
Macandrew saw what Mort was holding: it was a butcher's cleaver.
'It was a message Mort,' he said in a dazed monotone, 'for me.'
'The crazy bastard,' said Saul Klinsman when Macandrew told him what had happened. 'How is Mrs Jackson?'
'She's got a real sore head and quite a few cuts, one that required stitching, but she'll be OK.'
'You called the cops?' asked Klinsman.
'No, I didn't,' confessed Macandrew. 'I persuaded the Jacksons not to either.'
Klinsman looked shocked. 'Why not?'
'I'm not absolutely sure myself,' said Macandrew. 'It was obvious that the cleaver was meant for me and we both know where it came from. I got to thinking that Francini had probably gone out and gotten hammered after what Weber had told him about the missing tumour tissue. It must have been eating away at him and he had to make his point somehow. It was probably something he did on the spur of the moment. He got my address from somewhere - not realising that I shared the place with the Jacksons - and came over to vent his anger. I'm counting on this being a one-off thing.'
'That's charitable of you,' said Klinsman.
'Not entirely,' confessed Macandrew. 'If I am to be perfectly honest I worked out
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham