An old couple stopped to wind down their window and ask him where they might find the nearest twenty-four-hour parking garage. He suggested they try taking a right turn, go three blocks, and try the high-rise apartment block on the corner of 5th avenue—he was always very polite and helpful.
A black limousine finally eased up the street. It stopped in front of the target's building and remained there. The assassin waited in the shadows across the street two buildings down, watching. There were two people in the backseat of the limo. One was the client and the other the target. The two of them talked a while, the limousine continued to idle. Then the driver got out and sauntered towards the rear passenger door, opening it. The target got out but continued to natter, she laughed, the kind of laugh that comes when people say spiteful things about people they are supposed to be kind to. Then the target stepped back and the limo driver shut the door. The driver got back in the long black car and the slayer watched it drive away.
The target headed toward the building, keys jangling. There was still enough time to work with.
"Excuse me ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you at this late hour, but I tried you earlier and you weren't home." The target looked the assassin up and down. "What seems to be the problem, officer?" "There was a brake in upstairs earlier this evening ma'am. The top floor apartment."
"Again?" She cursed under her breath. "I hate this city, I really do!"
"Yes ma'am, I can't say I blame you."
What did they take?" She asked him.
"Small things. Jewellery. Silver. A laptop computer. They were very professional. In and out again, they even locked up after themselves."
The target went inside, and started turning on lights. "Everything seems to be in order, officer. Looks like I was lucky." But she was wrong, she was not very luck at all. The killer moved quickly now, reaching for the standard issue billy club from the standard issue police belt. He raised his arm and brought it down with a blow of tremendous force on the back of the head. The sound of the billy club shattering her skull was like no other sound on earth. For him it was the most satisfying sound. Still he left no room for doubt. The billy club was raised and lowered three more times.
He stood in the entrance hall of the apartment block. No sounds, no witnesses, no more time. He left the apartment door open an inch and the front gate wide open. He stepped out on onto the midnight, mid-summer street. There was still more work to be done.
