Chapter 38: Yes, Mr Klempner

O'Shea raises a surrendering hand. "Yes, Mr Klempner."

"Good. So long as we understand each other. Kneel up." Eyes wild, he obeys, his nose streaming red down over his shirt.

The edge of the knife still pricking at his throat, I fish the other blade from my pocket. "Now... don't move unless you want to wear your smile wider than that clown back there."

"What...?"

"I said, stay still." I bring the razor-edge to his face. "You wouldn't want me to fumble this, would you."

"What the fuck...?" His eyeballs swivel sidelong. Smooth against the skin, I slide the edge down against his left cheek. Blond hair flutters to the ground. O'Shea's trembling. Violently trembling. More hair slices away from his cheek, spinning into the breeze.