No one would find her for a day or so. He would help lead the investigation, vowing that the crime would face justice. Of course, he would find someone to pin it on. One of his lower assets would do. It would be easy to arrange a meeting that ended in a tragic shootout. Evidence would be planted. Emily would be given a hero’s funeral. There would be political giants in attendance, perhaps even The President himself. And the whole problem would go away.
He banished the thoughts as he leaned closer to the side of the bed. He could have his way with her if he wanted. She had always been an attractive woman, strong of will and of body. The thought lingered for a moment. Murderer, yes. But he was no rapist. His stable of prostitutes satisfied all of his carnal urges. Tonight he just had to finish this job. Maybe tomorrow night he would call up his escort connection. An evening of fun might be exactly what he needed after all the stress he’d experienced lately.
Very slowly, he held out the pillow and gently placed it on the outline of Emily’s head. He pressed the long barrel to the fabric and pulled the trigger three times. Feathers erupted from the pillow with the popping of the gun. He left the mangled cushion on the body and walked casually out of the room, never even glancing back. And all of his loose ends were tied up.
He felt good about himself as he descended the stairs. The air was brisk outside, chilly from a cold front that had come through, typical of that time of year.
The streets were empty save for a few cars several hundred yards away. They wouldn’t even notice him as he slipped into his own car around the corner and drove off.
The Prophet would be extremely pleased with his work. No doubt he would be well rewarded. He smiled at the thought of the things he could buy with the money he would receive. It would be significant which meant no more government salary. No more scraping by, dealing with the bureaucratic bull. He could retire to somewhere in the Caribbean, sipping Mai Thais and playing golf for the rest of his days.
I deserve it, he thought to himself as he got in his car and started the engine. Finally, Eric Jennings was going to get what he had coming to him.
Chapter 59
Hunter had driven to a spot about thirty minutes outside of the city. There, he’d turned off the main road in favor of an old dirt one that led through a field to a grove of trees at the foot of a hill.
Once he reached the patchwork forest he stopped and ordered both of his passengers to get out of the car slowly. He still held the gun firmly in his hand making sure the two men were aware that he had not wavered since exiting the city.
The rain had subsided on the drive out and now a cool breeze rolled across the meadow and through the treetops nearby.
After he made his way around the front of the vehicle, Hunter held out the wooden cylinder towards Schultz. “Open it,” he ordered, pointing the gun at Tommy’s chest.
He hesitated for a moment then reached out and took the object. Instead of obeying, he scanned the outside for a moment, again taking a look at the inscription that had been burned into the cap. Then, carefully, he raised the tube to his ear and tilted it back and forth slowly.
“What are you doing?” Hunter asked, shaking the weapon in Tommy’s direction.
Schultz gave him an indignant expression. “You don’t do a lot of this sort of thing, do you?” he asked, sarcasm lathering the question. “Sometimes these have a separate glass filament on the inside. Within that inner cylinder is acid and if opened incorrectly would destroy any paper contents immediately.”
Hunter frowned at this new information and lowered his weapon slightly.
“Fortunately,” Tommy continued as he lowered the container back to his waist, “this isn’t one of those.”
“How do you know?” Carlson looked skeptical.
Schultz sighed, obviously annoyed. “Because if it were one of those, I could hear the liquid sloshing around on the inside. And typically, those types of cylinders have a sort of combination lock to them. They’re called codices. This one,” he held up the container, “has nothing like that.” Satisfied he’d convinced Hunter it would be alright to proceed, Tommy squeezed the cap of the wooden object and started pulling and twisting.
Hunter tensed up for a second, not sure what was going to happen.
The lid popped off, sealed by a cork on the underside. Tommy peered in as Will watched with high interest.
Carlson observed carefully as Tommy turned the container upside down and a small scroll slid out. “What is it?” Carlson asked, impatiently.
Tommy was already unrolling the tiny scroll very slowly. “It’s vellum,” he said as he continued to work with the old piece. “Made from an animal skin. Whoever created this piece knew that it would stand a better chance against the elements and time than ordinary paper.” He turned towards the car and laid the scroll out flat on the hood. It had been dry for fifteen so minutes so he doubted it would hurt.
Carlson stepped close to get a better look and held up a small, key ring flashlight. The LED bulb illuminated the old writing surface, revealing a dull shine. What they saw was a very simple, crude drawing. There was a squiggly line that went from the top right of the writing surface to a point where it forked into two similar lines. At the point of the fork was a darkened circle. “What is that?” Hunter asked and pointed at the dot.
Tommy shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s no other information.” He picked up the map and turned it over, hoping to find another clue as to where they were supposed to go but there was nothing. Not even a hint as to who had drawn up the old piece.
Carlson stepped away from the vehicle. “Is this some kind of joke? There has to be more to it than just this.”
Tommy stared at the stranger. He had a tired and frustrated look in his eyes.
It was late and they were all tired. Maybe Tommy could use that to buy some time. “Look, it’s late. We’re exhausted. Let’s hole up somewhere and get some rest and maybe we can figure this out in the morning.” He tried not to sound like he was begging, but he had the feeling the man with the gun wasn’t buying it.
“You think I’m stupid?” Carlson answered. “Yeah, let’s all just take a nap and when I wake up you two will still be here.”
Will interrupted. “There’s rope in the back of the truck. Tie us up if you want.”
Tommy nodded in agreement. “Tomorrow morning we can drive to the next town and ask around about this drawing, see if it turns up any leads.”
To Hunter, their idea was starting to make a little sense. He was tired and they weren’t going to make any progress at that late an hour. He could tie them to a tree in the grove nearby and in the morning maybe he could find someone who could tell him the location of the circle on the map. “Ok,” he said after a few more moments of thought. “Get the rope out of the back. I don’t have to remind you of what will happen if you try anything. And I am a very light sleeper.” Part of him considered killing Will and dumping him on the side of the road. No one would know and he only needed Tommy. Hunter had learned, though, one could never have too much insurance. At the moment, he felt like he had all the poker chips at the table.
Adriana ran into the hotel after parking her motorcycle at the side of the building. She flashed by the concierge and up to the second floor room where she knew Sean would be.
Catching her breath for a second, she knocked on the door. She heard Sean tell her to come in from the other side so she obeyed.