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The Uninvited

The Uninvited

The Uninvited

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out on the table and spread it out in frontof her so she can see it properly. But shedoesn’t look. She needs to. She should.‘He’s so clever with his hands,’ she’ssaying. <strong>The</strong>n she stops and sees what I’mshowing her. ‘What’s that?’ She lookspuzzled. ‘How – did Freddy draw it?’ Shepicks it up. ‘But it’s ink. Freddy doesn’tuse ink, does he? And this hand-print here,how could he—’‘Freddy didn’t do it. Do you rememberSunny Chen?’‘<strong>The</strong> Taiwan whistle-blower.’‘He left this for his wife before hekilled himself.’ <strong>The</strong> sheet starts tremblingin her hand. With care, she sets it down onthe table between us and shifts back in herseat, as though the paper is contaminated.‘His wife insisted he couldn’t have done

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