Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. . People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room.
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