motherâher step mother, more likelyâdid, but didnât care. To her, this was simply what women did. I couldnât help notice what good legs Melusine had.
âThis will take a few minutes. While weâre waiting, I direct your attention to Chef Rupertâs excellent pastries.â
I faded back to polite applause, and began the round of table hopping. A joke here, a word of praise there. Itâs banana oil makes the world go round.
When I got to the de Chervilles, Hawkinsâ face was white.
âSir!â He shot to his feet. âA word with you.â
He almost dragged me away from the table.
When we were in private, he was so upset he was stuttering. âTh-that young woman, w-wants me t-to â¦â
âI know what she wants,â I said coolly. âSheâs of legal ageâmake your own decision.â
âYou donât understand! I canât possibly go back to that table.â Hawkins was genuinely anguished. I thought at first that heâd been hearing rumors, dark hints about his future career. Somehow, though, that didnât smell right. There was something else going on here.
âAll right,â I said. âSlip out now. But I donât like secrets. Record a full explanation and leave it in my office. No evasions, understand?â
âYes, sir.â A look of relief spread itself across his handsome young face. âThank you, sir.â
He started to leave.
âOh, and one more thing,â I said casually, hating myself. âDonât go anywhere near your tent until the fund-raiserâs broken up.â
The de Chervilles werenât exactly thrilled when I told them that Hawkins had fallen ill, and Iâd be taking his place. But then I took a tyrannosaur tooth from my pocket and gave it to Philippe. It was just a shedârexes drop a lot of teethâbut no need to mention that.
âIt looks sharp,â Mrs. de Cherville said, with a touch of alarm.
âSerrated, too. You might want to ask your mother if you can use it for a knife, next time you have steak,â I suggested.
Which won him over completely. Kids are fickle. Philippe immediately forgot all about Hawkins.
Melusine, however, did not. Eyes flashing with anger, she stood, throwing her napkin to the floor. âI want to know,â she began, âjust what you think youâreââ
Fortunately, that was when Satan arrived.
The tyrannosaur came running up the hillside at a speed youâd have to be an experienced paleontologist to know was less than optimal. Even a dying T. rex moves fast .
People gasped.
I took the microphone out of my pocket, and moved quickly to the front of the room. âFolks, we just got lucky. Iâd like to inform those of you with tables by the window that the glass is rated at twenty tons per square inch. Youâre in no danger whatsoever. But you are in for quite a show. Those who are in the rear might want to get a little closer.â
Young Philippe was off like a shot.
The creature was almost to us. âA tyrannosaur has a hyperacute sense of smell,â I reminded them. âWhen it scents blood, its brain is overwhelmed. It goes into a feeding frenzy.â
A few droplets of blood had spattered the window. Seeing us through the glass, Satan leaped and tried to smash through it.
Whoomp ! The glass boomed and shivered with the impact. There were shrieks and screams from the diners, and several people started to their feet.
At my signal, the string quartet took up their instruments again, and began to play while Satan leaped and tore and snarled, a perfect avatar of rage and fury. They chose the scherzo from Shostokovichâs piano quintet.
Scherzos are supposed to be funny, but most have a whirlwind, uninhibited quality that makes them particularly appropriate to nightmares and the madness of predatory dinosaurs.
Whoomp! That mighty head struck the window again and again and again. For a
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