was all the answer any of them needed.
"Don't be so hard on her," Albert said quietly, and slipped an arm around Bethany's waist. She put her head on his shoulder and began to sob more strenuously.
Nick moved the two of them gently aside. "If I was inclined to be hard on someone, it would be myself, Ace. I should have stayed behind."
He turned to Brian.
"I'm going back into the terminal. You're not. Mr Jenkins here is almost certainly right; our time here is short. I don't like to think just how short. Start the engines but don't move the aircraft yet. If the girl is alive, we'll need the stairs to bring her up. Bob, bottom of the stairs. Keep an eye out for that bugger Toomy. Albert, you come with me."
Then he said something which chilled them all.
"I almost hope she's dead, God help me. It will save time if she is."
2
Dinah was not dead, not even unconscious. Laurel had taken off her sunglasses to wipe away the sweat which had sprung up on the girl's face, and Dinah's eyes, deep brown and very wide, looked up unseeingly into Laurel's blue-green ones. Behind her, Don and Rudy stood shoulder to shoulder, looking down anxiously.
"I'm sorry," Rudy said for the fifth time. "I really thought he was out. Out cold."
Laurel ignored him. "How are you, Dinah?" she asked softly. She didn't want to look at the wooden handle growing out of the girl's dress, but couldn't take her eyes from it. There was very little blood, at least so far; a circle the size of a demitasse cup around the place where the blade had gone in, and that was all.
So far.
"It hurts," Dinah said in a faint voice. "It's hard to breathe. And it's hot."
"You're going to be all right," Laurel said, but her eyes were drawn relentlessly back to the handle of the knife. The girl was very small, and she couldn't understand why the blade hadn't gone all the way through her. Couldn't understand why she wasn't dead already.
"... out of here," Dinah said. She grimaced, and a thick, slow curdle of blood escaped from the corner of her mouth and ran down her cheek.
"Don't try to talk, honey," Laurel said, and brushed damp curls back from Dinah's forehead.
"You have to get out of here," Dinah insisted. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "And you shouldn't blame Mr Toomy. He's... he's scared, that's all. Of them."
Don looked around balefully. "If I find that bastard, I'll scare him," he said, and curled both hands into fists. A lodge ring gleamed above one knuckle in the growing gloom. "I'll make him wish he was born dead."
Nick came into the restaurant then, followed by Albert. He pushed past Rudy Warwick without a word of apology and knelt next to Dinah. His bright gaze fixed upon the handle of the knife for a moment, then moved to the child's face.
"Hello, love." He spoke cheerily, but his eyes had darkened. "I see you've been air-conditioned. Not to worry; you'll be right as a trivet in no time flat."
Dinah smiled a little. "What's a trivet?" she whispered. More blood ran out of her mouth as she spoke, and Laurel could see it on her teeth. Her stomach did a slow, lazy roll.
"I don't know, but I'm sure it's something nice," Nick replied. "I'm going to turn your head to one side. Be as still as you can."
"Okay."
Nick moved her head, very gently, until her cheek was almost resting on the carpet. "Hurt?"
"Yes," Dinah whispered. "Hot. Hurts to... breathe." Her whispery voice had taken on a hoarse, cracked quality. A thin stream of blood ran from her mouth and pooled on the carpet less than ten feet from the place where Craig Toomy's blood was drying.
From outside came the sudden high-pressure whine of aircraft engines starting. Don, Rudy, and Albert looked in that direction. Nick never looked away from the girl. He spoke gently. "Do you feel like coughing, Dinah?"
"Yes... no... don't know."
"It's better if you don't," he said. "If you get that tickly feeling, try to ignore it. And don't talk anymore, right?"
"Don't... hurt... Mr Toomy." Her words, whispered though they were, conveyed great emphasis, great urgency.
"No, love, wouldn't think of it. Take it from me."
"... don't... trust... you..."
He bent, kissed her cheek, and whispered in her ear: "But you can, you know - trust me, I mean. For now, all you've got to do is lie still and