“If something happens, I’m the one carrying the bag”, said Sam. “This thing is right next to my head. Right behind my heart come to that”. Sam imagined the bag becoming heavier, pressing against his back with intent.

Jack started to walk towards the road, then looked back. He held up the screwdriver, the sun glinting off the tip. “That’s what this is for”.

“The thought of you coming at me with that thing is not very comforting”, said Sam, slowly walking towards Jack.

“I have an excellent right arm. Your death will be swift, I promise”. He laughed, turning and walking briskly across the road. Sam felt the jar gurgle again. Fighting back a mental picture of the screwdriver being plunged through the jar, into his back and out through his chest, he reluctantly followed.

---

Detective Jacinta Portman knelt down behind the abandoned vehicle to examine the lock on the trunk. It was broken. Using her pen, she opened the trunk, expecting the worst. Nothing.

Nothing, but an odd smell.