Page 110 of Tightrope

Eugene wailed.

Matthias hurried toward Amalie.

“Are you all right?” he asked urgently. Then his eyes narrowed. “You’re bleeding.”

Amalie looked down at her side and was surprised to see the blood that had soaked her blouse. More blood dripped from the side of her neck where the necklace had cut into her. She was suddenly aware of the pain.

“He cut me,” she said. “That bastard. I don’t think it’s too deep, but it hurts.”

It wasn’t just the pain that was so annoying, she realized. She was starting to feel weird.

Matthias yanked her blouse out of the waistband of her trousers and examined the wound.

“How bad is it?” Luther asked.

“Hard to tell,” Matthias said. He loosened his tie and started to unfasten his shirt. “The cuts on her neck aren’t bad but there’s a lot of blood from where he stabbed her in the side.”

“Giggles changed his mind about stabbing me to death because I scared the living daylights out of him with my driving,” Amalie confided. “You should have seen his face when I told him we were both going to fly.”

“Nice work,” Matthias said.

“I thought so. One of my more inspired performances.”

“Don’t get any ideas about going back into show business,” Matthias said. He bundled the shirt into a makeshift bandage and pressed it to her side. “Hold it there.” She did as instructed while he wrapped his tie around her waist to secure the bandage. By the time he was finished she was starting to wonder if she might faint. The light-headed sensation was getting worse.

He scooped her up in his arms and headed toward the Packard.

“After you get her to the hospital, send Detective Brandon out here to pick me up,” Luther said.

“Right,” Matthias said.

“What about me?” Eugene yelped.

“Whether or not you’re still here or at the bottom of the cliff when the police arrive depends on how helpful you are when it comes to answering a few questions,” Luther said.

Matthias eased Amalie into the passenger seat, got behind the wheel, and fired up the Packard. He pulled out onto Cliff Road and headed toward town.

Amalie sagged into the seat.

“He’s the other one,” she explained to Matthias. “The one who giggled.”

“Believe it or not, I figured that out for myself,” Matthias said.

He concentrated on his driving.

“How did you know?” Amalie asked.

“That you were in trouble? You lied. I heard it in your voice on the telephone.”

For some reason she found that very funny.

“I was sure that you would know I was lying,” she said.

“You really don’t have a problem with my talent.”

It wasn’t a question but she answered it anyway.

“Nope,” she said. “As someone explained to me not long ago, what matters is intent.”