"
Rand nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe so. And suppose Rivers found out about
it, and tried to declare himself in on it. That stuff would be worth at
least ten thousand; I doubt if whoever bought it paid Walters more than
two. In the Umholtz-Rivers income bracket, the difference might be worth
killing for."
"That's right. And Umholtz was in the infantry, in the other war; he
served in the Twenty-eighth Division. He was trained to use a bayonet.
And he'd pick that short Mauser; it has about the same weight and balance
as a 1903 Springfield."
"Well, you know, the killer wouldn't need to have been trained to use a
bayonet," Rand pointed out. "Mick McKenna made that point, this
afternoon. There have been a lot of war-movies that showed bayonet
fighting; pretty nearly everybody knows about the technique that was
used. And against an unarmed and probably unsuspecting victim like
Rivers, a great deal of proficiency wouldn't be needed." He slowed the
car. "Up this road?" he asked.
"Yes. That's my place, over there."
Pierre pointed to a white-walled, red-roofed house that lay against a
hillside, about a mile ahead, making a vivid spot in the dull grays and
greens of the early April landscape. It consisted of a square two-story
block, with one-story wings projecting to give it an L-shaped floorplan.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196