The goldfish bowl self-consciousness had long ago vanished so no-one on the trading floor noticed Jennifer emerge from the lift. Three did look up, curiously, at the noise she made tapping her knuckles against the glass as she walked towards her husband’s room. Her left hand was buried deeply into her large, shoulder-strapped handbag.
Lomax raised his head, surprised, as she entered. ‘Darling, I didn’t…’ he began.
‘ MURDERING BASTARD!’
The first, sweeping slash opened the left side of Gerald Lomax’s face, from ear to chin. He threw himself backwards so hard his chair overturned, crashing into the see-through wall, but every trader below was already staring, transfixed, attracted by the screaming accusation.
‘Jennifer… for God’s sake…!’
Lomax was on his hands and knees when she stabbed him twice, in the back. He clawed upwards, levering against the desk, and she stabbed him through the hand, actually embedding the knife in the wood and Lomax punched her in the side of the face, splitting her lip, as she wrestled the blade free, then grabbed out for it as she did so to drive it upwards into her free hand.
‘Jen…’ For a moment they clung together, in a frenzied dance, but he was already weak from the cuts and stabs and she was easily able to get the knife back. The next slash was across his nose, almost severing it. Lomax hit the wall again, although remaining upright, but his eyes were flooded by the slashing blow and he couldn’t see to protect himself any more.