THE HUNDRED-AND-THIRD PAGE
Apparently, the gun package made a far larger stir in the office than the arrival of the knife, according to my spies. Because it was the second weapon to arrive in a less than a month it was probably deemed disturbing. Would a pattern similar to that of the old R.O.T.M Club be emerging?
There were a number of questions presented by the mailings. What was the purpose of the mailings? Everyone knew that the editor could barely sharpen his own pencils. It was still considered a miracle that he had learned some of the intricacies of computer life. How could he open the knife, which had a fierce button catch that held the blade in its sheath until it was needed? The notion of his buying and inserting bullets in the gun was a joke. And, why would he? Did the gift-giver think he would actually try to employ the weapons in the hope that they might backfire? Or was it the twisted joke of some lunatic who had the wrong number?
It was none of the above. If enough of these gifts arrived over a period of time, something would come of it. The staff would come to realize that My Editor had been or was consorting with the wrong crowd. He was not the kind of person they should be near, especially since he appeared to be in the thrall of a madman. How could he convince an assistant--and god knows, the turnover was swift there, even by industry standards-- that he was safe to work with?