2
before. My body felt suddenly cold and damp. The girl came around to the side of my desk, shoved the pistol into my face and pulled the trigger. A jet of lukewarm water splashed on my forehead and dribbled into my eyes. The girl made a noise; a foolish, school-girl giggle.
My fear had become unreasoning anger. I jerked the black water pistol out of her hand and broke it in two. I threw the shattered plastic into the wastebasket, twisted my hands into the lapels of the girl's gabardine raincoat and started shaking her. I shook her so hard her head whipped back and forth like a marionette's. When she started to cry I cooled off. I shoved her into a chair and sat down again in my own. My hands were trembling from the combination of fear, anger, and now sudden remorse for ill-treating the girl. I took a calmer look at her.
She seemed about fifteen years old. A mop of auburn poodle-cut curls topped a pretty, innocent, delicate face. She carried a small, black patent-leather handbag and her shoes were single-strap Mary Janes. She took a tiny handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed at her blue eyes.
"You hurt me." Her voice was a bubbling, light soprano.
"You scared me."
"I was just having a little fun."
"It wasn't funny!"
She giggled. "You should have seen your face!"
"What were you trying to prove, anyway?" I smiled in spite of myself.
"I'm waiting for my brother," she explained.
"I see. You thought I was your brother."
"No! Freddy's visiting Mr. Davis in his room and he told me to wait for him in the lobby."
"This is the mezzanine."
"I know that! But I've been waiting for over an hour, and I've been exploring sort of, to kill time. I saw your office, and I wondered what a private detective would do if someone tried to stick him up, and then I remembered I had my little brother's water pistol with me--"
"The brother Freddy, visiting Mr. Davis--"
"No! My little brother's water pistol! Freddy's my big brot