Jack Jenkins, Sue's son, was a lost soul. He had failed his A-levels, sohadn't gone to uni. This was down to a lack of drive and not knowing whatto do...with himself rather than lack of intelligence. He'd been unable tofind much work. A bit of driving or shelf stacking, but most employersrealised he was too clever to want to stay and moved him on after a fewweeks. He loved his mother, father, and older sister Emily, and they wereconcerned for his career.One thing Jack was good at was cycling, he. ? The scale read only 40 kilos.? Martha and Valerie heaved him up onto thetable where he flopped limply onto his back, head back and arms and legsoutstretched.? His body cavity was slitopen from groin to chin.? He had beencleanly gutted. Valerie prepared to cut off his head.? Loss of his head would largely sever hisremaining resemblance to a human form.?The bridge of his nose was crushed where the arrow had passed betweenhis eyes.? Valerie noticed a brown smearnext to his mouth, and rubbed it. There was an urgency, a passion to the playing that was quite different from the eloquent restraint of expression that the Italian pianist demonstrated. Perhaps it was the fact that it was live, but Richard felt like he understood his teacher much more for having heard this old reel-to-reel tape. None of her other commercial recordings, though superb in their own right, had connected with him so deeply like this one just had.Richard made his decision. The analysis of subdominant chords could. "That'll do, pull over to that corner." They had been driving for about a half an hour.He pulled up just beyond the corner, away from the street light, which yellowed the sooty walls of the last row of tenement houses. They sat there for awhile and waited, but Jimmy didn't have enough nerve to ask why. He was content to let things take their course.In a few minutes, the occupants of the van skidded round a corner at the opposite end of the street, saw them and turned down an alleyway, going up.