Anna swallowed briefly, but she kept her hands still in her lap—quiet and unmoving. “She was shivering so much I really didn’t notice her shirt, but now that you mention it, she didn’t have much blood on her. Of course, it did depend on where she was standing,” Anna finished quickly, obviously having thought of something Bib hadn’t.
“Come again?”
“The angle of trajectory,” Anna said with self-effacing simplicity. Bib realized that she realized that he should have thought of this himself, long ago.
“If she was standing out of the path of the blood flow, especially near his neck, the spray might not have hit her. But the blood tests on her shirt would show that, wouldn’t they? I mean,” she went on when Bib sat silent, “her arms and face were bleeding, so it had to be on her shirt. When th
