Free The Two Timers by Bob Shaw Page B

Lieutenant Convery was in

charge of the investigations into his death." Kate looked somberly at

Breton. "Did you know you were seen that night?"

"I hadn't thought about it."

"You were. Half a dozen teenagers who must have been having a communal

roll in the grass told the police about seeing a man with a rifle who

materialized almost on top of them and vanished just as quickly. Naturally

enough, the description they were able to give fitted John. To be honest,

until last night I always had an illogical feeling it had been John --

although the investigation cleared him completely. Several of our neighbors

had seen him standing at the window, and his rifle was broken anyway."

Breton nodded thoughtfully, suddenly aware of how near he had come to

saving Kate and getting rid of the Time B Breton at one stroke. So the

police had tried to pin the shooting on John! What a pity the dictates

of chronomotive physics had caused the bullet which killed Spiedel to

snap back into Time A along with the rifle and the man who had fired

it. The rifling marks on it would have matched those produced by John

Breton's unfired and broken rifle -- which would have given the omnipotent

ballistics experts something to think about.

"I still don't see what you mean about Convery," he said aloud. "You

said John was cleared."

"He was, but Lieutenant Convery kept on coming around here. He still

calls when he's in the district, and drinks coffee and talks to John

about geology and fossils."

"Sounds harmless."

"Oh, it is. John likes him, but he reminds me of something I don't want

to remember."

Breton reached across the table and took Kate's hand. "What do I remind

you of?"

Kate moved uneasily, but kept her hand in his. "Something I do want to

remember, perhaps."

"You're my wife, Kate -- and I want you back." He felt her fingers

interlock with his then grow tighter and tighter as though in some

trial of strength. Her face was that of a woman in childbirth. They

sat that way, without speaking, until John Breton's footsteps sounded

outside the kitchen door. He came in, now wearing a gray business suit,

and went straight to the radio.

"I'll get the latest news, before I go."

"I'll tidy up here," Kate said. She began clearing the table.

Jack Breton stood up, aware of an overwhelming resentment at his other

self's presence in the house, and walked slowly through the house until

he was standing in the cool brown silence of the living room. Kate

had responded to him -- and that was important. It was why it had been

necessary for him to do it this way, to walk straight in on Kate and

John and explain everything to them.

A more logical and efficient method would have been to keep his presence

in the Time B world a secret; to murder John, dispose of the body

and quietly take over his life. But then he would have been burdened

with a sense of having cheated Kate, whereas now he had the ultimate

justification of knowing she preferred him to the man the Time B Breton

had come to be. That mattered very much, and now it was time to think

in detail about his next step -- the elimination of John Breton.

Frowning in concentration, Jack Breton moved about the living room,

absentmindedly lifting books and small ornaments, examining them and

carefully putting everything back in its original place. His attention

was caught by a sheaf of closely-written squares of white paper, the

top one of which had an intricate circular pattern on it. He lifted

the uppermost sheet and saw that what he had taken to be a pattern was

actually handwriting in a finely-executed spiral. Breton rotated the

paper and slowly read a fragment of poetry.

I have wished for you a thousand nights,

While the green-glow hour-hand slowly veers.

I could weep for the very need of you,

But you wouldn't taste my tears.

He had set the sheet down and was turning away from the table when the

significance of the lines speared into him. It took several