Alicia saw a few drops of blood run down the suit's wrist to his shirt sleeve. The drops became a trickle which became a stream which turned into a ri...er. Stan stared at the gush of blood with eyes wide in disbelief, and then he screamed in terrible agony, slumping downwards as his knees went weak. The suit's other hand blurred across his body before striking out at Stan with a viscous backhand that flung Stan across the room, the ruins of his crushed hand leaving a trail of scarlet droplets. There is no point in allowing myself to travel down that path. Not now. Closing the box I take care to place it in precisely the same place that I had found it the morning after she left, and settle myself in to wait for the report. My study is one of the smaller rooms in my house. A handcrafted, Victorian-style mahogany desk dominates the center of the room. The surface is bare, polished to a high shine by my housekeeper, save for my Blackberry and the box containing the ring. Covering three. More

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