Finally, standing beside him with a scissors-katar in one long, blood-rubied hand and her glass in the other, she said, “Your shop is wonderful, Mr. Timuroff. You choose your things so well. I’d really miss you if you went out of business.”
Timuroff smiled at her again. “I’ve no intention of it, I assure you. I’ve prospered here, and built up a good stock.”
Her fingers closed and opened, working the three blades of the scissors-katar so that the two outer ones opened with a dry, harsh, shearing sound to reveal the third. “The Indians were so imaginative,” she said. “I’ll have to buy this too.” She looked around the room again, “Your inventory must be quite valuable,” she commented. “Isn’t there a high risk involved? I mean, burglary?”
“Well, actually the rarer and older your weapons are
