She knew she was in trouble when her husbands best friend blew himself up at the airport.When they left her husbands decapitated head in her car she ran. Leaving no paper trail, she moved to a remote farmhouse. She did no know what woke her three months later. Without turning on the light, or moving the half open blinds, she scanned the dark fields right up to the tree line. A white smudge? she re-focused her night vision binoculars. On the edge of the tree line, standing still and smiling, was a clown. On its shoulder, catching the moonlight, was a long bright shiny sword