I decided to wander around the corner where there was this funky, littleused bookstore with a clangy old bell on the door. It was piled highwith old ...ooks and no one there seemed to care about organizing theplace, although I have a feeling there was some logic to the madness.At the front of the store was an old wooden desk. There was a salesgirl sitting there reading Jung. She had on glasses and her hair wascompletely frizzy. She smelled like patchouli, too. It was a damnedshame, because. On a late September morning, there should have been no one about; certainly there was nobody on the quay that could stop her. I watched as the woman climbed the safety barrier and stood on the edge of the quay at the harbour entrance seemingly still making up her mind. Although I was still some distance from her, in the floodlights along the harbour wall her white mackintosh showed clearly. "Whether she jumps or not, you've still got to do something about her, Mick," I told myself. "If she. More

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