Diary of an Assassin

by Methos, Victor

  “Suzie, this is Henri. He’s with the French police and needs to take a quick peek at the bodies.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She walked over to a wall, which had several metal squares with handles over them, appearing almost like ovens. She opened two of them and pulled out metal platforms with bodies on top. They were nude and Henri noticed Tom suddenly grow uncomfortable.

  “There they are, in their birthday suits. Have at it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Henri examined the first body. It had the Y shape of an autopsy and the skin was white, the face frozen in an expression he couldn’t identify. Three holes about four centimeters in diameter perforated his chest. All of them were over the heart: one in the left ventricle and two in the right. Another hole was in the forehead. Henri took out his phone and looked at the picture of Isaac Rhett he had been sent. It was him.

  He turned to the other body. A beautiful young woman, whose radiance even death hadn’t taken away. She had a single gunshot wound to the back of the skull and Henri could only see it by bending down and looking directly at it. Small caliber. Enough velocity to enter but not to exit. Henri felt ashamed for her that he was allowed to stare at her nakedness and it dawned on him why Tom had looked away.

  “Thank you,” Henri said to the woman in the lab coat.

  He turned away and walked with Tom, who thanked the woman as well, saying something about seeing her at church on Sunday. They walked outside and Henri looked up to the moon, which was shining brightly in the night sky.

  “Helluva thing. We don’t get many murders up here. Last one was some odd ten years ago. Two teenagers out in the swamps. They were shooting bottles and got into a tussle over somethin’ and one shot the other one with a twenty-two rifle. Wouldn’t have killed him if it hit him anywhere but the liver, but it did and he died in the hospital.” He shook his head. “Now we got two of them right here.”

  “Where did you find their bodies?”

  “Swampland about thirty minutes from here. Some kids found him, and she floated up when we were out there for him. Helluva thing. And on top of that, we had a carjacking too.”

  “Carjacking?”

  “Yeah, car robbery. Right there on the freeway about an hour from here. See our county’s pretty big; we don’t have a big population but the county’s big. And we picked that one up too.”

  “What happened?”

  “One witness said he was driving by and he saw a man step out onto the freeway and just stand there. Didn’t move or anything, just stood there. A car had to stop so as not to hit him, and when it did, he got into the driver’s side. We know it was a carjacking ’cause the witness saw a gun. Well he says he saw a gun.”

  “Sheriff, can you forward me the make and model of the car and the registered owner’s information?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Well, come on, I’ll give you a lift back to your car.”

  “I appreciate it but I feel like walking. I could use the air.”

  “Okay. Lemme know if you need anything else.”

  “Thank you. And, Sheriff, if you see this man, or capture him or think you have captured him, please know that he has killed several people in a few days for nothing more than pleasure. He will do the same to you if he is given the opportunity. Do not take any risks.”

  Tom looked to him but didn’t say anything. He just turned away and got in his car and drove off. Henri watched him go and then glanced back to the hospital. He had seen Gustav put many people in morgues just like this and each time felt like the first.

  He sighed and walked away, keeping his head down to the ground, lost in thought.

  CHAPTER 44

  The motel was old but clean, and the clerk behind the counter smiled and spoke softly. Billie Gell felt the man’s hand on her bicep, and as he was paying for a room, he signed everything with his left hand. She didn’t know why she made a note of that, but she did.

  After he was given the room key, he walked her down the hall and her heart dropped. She was frightened he would rape her. She didn’t know how she would react. Her friend had been raped at a frat party once and she said she was so drunk she didn’t fight. She had just lain there. Billie didn’t see herself doing that. She thought that even if he killed her, she would fight.

  At the room’s door, he unlocked it and pushed her inside. He looked down both sides of the hallway and then followed her in, locking the door behind them. He quickly checked the bathroom and underneath the beds and then out the window. Billie stood against the wall, staring at the door. No, she wouldn’t have the chance to escape. He would just fire into her back.

  He looked to her as he turned from the windows and then kicked off his shoes before sitting on the first bed. Pill bottle in hand, he swallowed two white pills without water and lay back on the bed. He reached over to turn off the light, the pistol lying across his chest. She stood silently a long time before slowly walking to the bed and sitting down. She kept looking at the door.

  “You could try,” a voice said from the dark, “but you wouldn’t make it.”

  “Why don’t you just let me go? I’m no use to you.”

  “Even sharks have pilot fish to keep them company.”

  “Is that what this is about? You just want company?”

  There was no response.

  She sat silently for a long time. Eventually she lay back on the bed. Sleep was going to be impossible, so she just thought about being back home in her apartment, in her bed. Her two roommates were probably drinking and having guys over right now. They wouldn’t even notice that she wasn’t there for at least a couple of days. They may call the police then. But a couple of days seemed like an eternity. She was on her own.

  Billie looked over to the man. He wasn’t snoring but she could hear his breathing. He took long, deep breaths and then let them out slowly through his nose. Neither of his hands were on the pistol, which moved up and down with his breaths.

  Putting the toe of one shoe on the heel of the other, she slipped off her shoes, making sure to do it close enough to the floor that they wouldn’t make noise when they fell. She used her hands to push herself up, closing her eyes tightly as if that would prevent any noise. Getting to an upright position, she gently slid off the bed until her feet touched the carpet.

  Billie looked to the door and then back to the pistol. The door had a chain and a lock. He would certainly hear her, fire into her back. The pistol had a silencer and, though she’d never heard one outside of the movies, she guessed it would be quiet enough that none of the neighbors would be alerted. And even if they were, so what? She’d already be shot. But if she could get the gun…

  She rose as gingerly as she could, stopping every second to try to prevent the old mattress from creaking. It creaked twice and both times she froze and looked over to the man before continuing.

  Now on her feet, she felt an overwhelming urge to run to the door and go screaming down the hallway. She had to take slow, deep breaths to calm herself. She felt like crying but kept telling herself she could be frightened later…she would be frightened later. There wasn’t time now.

  The first step toward his bed was the most terrifying, but the second and third were easier. She walked between the two mattresses, the only thing she could hear a rhythmic pounding of her heart. She briefly thought about grabbing the nightstand’s lamp and hitting him over the head with it. But she’d never seen it done in person, only in the movies. What if it didn’t do anything but piss him off?

  She was less than a foot away from him now. She swallowed and held her breath as her arm gradually reached for the gun.

  Billie stopped right above the weapon. Her hand was trembling in the moonlight creeping in through the thin openings in the curtains. Gently, she lowered her hand until she was touching the warm steel of the gun. She felt the ridges of the handle and tenderly wrapped her fingers around them as she began to lift it off the
man.

  Pain shot through her wrist.

  The man’s arm had come up like lightning and was tightly wrapped around the bones of her arm. She tried to pull away but couldn’t. She screamed and he grabbed her and flung her on the bed, twisting around on top of her as his hand clamped over her mouth and muffled her.

  “Brave girl,” he said. He lifted the weapon, the muzzle against her chest, pressing against her pounding heart.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks and the man sat watching her. A long moment stretched by. He lowered the weapon. Lifting her up by her arms, he dragged her into the bathroom. He ripped the wire out of the back of a lamp and hogtied her, forcing her arms behind her back and tying them to her ankles. He tore a long piece of cloth from a sheet and tied it around her mouth.

  Leaving her crying, he shut the door, and she was enveloped in the dark.

  CHAPTER 45

  Henri stood at the side of the road under the harsh light of the moon. He had his hands in the pockets of his jacket and could faintly see his own breath in the cold. Cars passed by and he watched them for a while before taking out his cell phone and opening a flashlight app. He scanned the ground when no cars were coming, the white light illuminating some marks. He looked at the landmarks around him, a billboard for a diet cola and a barn about thirty meters off the freeway, to make sure he was in the right place.

  He bent down over the skid marks and snapped a couple of photos. They were in a long trail that snaked to the left and to the right. The car had stopped abruptly. He stood by and watched a few more cars before getting into his rental and driving away.

  The address he’d been given was a fifteen-minute drive away. She had nearly been home. Henri drove through the winding streets and was impressed by how easy the address system was. Considering that in Paris sometimes all one had was the name of a street.

  He parked at the curb in front of the little house and got out. A breeze was blowing now and it made the leaves of the trees around him shimmer under the moonlight and clatter like a straw broom scraping over cement. He crossed the sidewalk and the grass to the porch. It was just past ten o’clock and he could hear music coming from inside. He knocked and took a step back before pulling out his badge.

  A young woman with short brunette hair and a red sweater answered. He showed her the badge, smiled, and said, “I’m looking for Billie Gell.”

  “She’s not here. May I ask what this is about?”

  “We believe she may have been the victim of a car…comment peut-on dire…a car theft.”

  “Oh, wow. Her car got stolen?”

  “Yes. Has she called you tonight?”

  “No. I can call her, though, hold on.” The girl went over to a table and snatched her cell phone. She dialed a number and then held it to her ear. After several seconds, she said, “It went to voicemail.”

  He nodded. “Do you have a picture of Billie here?”

  “Um, yeah, I think she’s got some in her room. You wanna look?”

  “Please.” She let him in. “Thank you.”

  “Her room’s right over there.”

  “Again, thank you.”

  Henri walked on the hardwood floors to the small bedroom the girl had pointed to. He flipped on the light. The room was carpeted in a white rug that had several noticeable stains. It smelled of incense and he saw a burner on the windowsill. The bed was messy and several posters were up on the walls. A small bookshelf hunkered in the corner. Henri walked to it, quickly glancing through the books: mostly classics. Very few contemporary works. He saw a bong on one of the shelves and next to that a glass pipe.

  A little shelf was bolted over the bed. It was cluttered but the item he was interested in was the photo. It was of a young girl and a man about her age. They were on a mountaintop and it appeared like they had taken the photo themselves on a phone. Henri took the picture and went out into the living room where he saw two girls and two young men sitting on the couch. They smiled but didn’t say anything and he could smell the scent of burnt marijuana.

  “Is this her?”

  “Yeah,” the brunette said.

  “I’m going to take this with me for right now. I will return it when we find her.”

  “Okay, that’s fine.”

  “Thank you for your help.”

  Henri showed himself out and stood on the porch for several seconds, staring at the photo. He tapped the photo against his palm and then walked back to his car.

  CHAPTER 46

  Billie was woken by the sound of the door opening. The man stepped over her and urinated into the toilet. She felt droplets hit her face and she recoiled. When he was done, he bent down and untied her. She slipped off the gag, not saying a word, as he walked out into the room.

  “We’re leaving. Wash your face.”

  She did as she was told, pulling her hair back and holding it in place with a rubber band she had in her pocket. He took her arm like he had done yesterday and led her out of the room and down the hallway. She could see breakfast being served and she said, “I’m hungry.”

  He stopped and looked at her. Though it terrified her to her core, she didn’t avert his gaze. He led her into the small dining area and sat her down. He fetched cereal, a bagel, orange juice, and some scrambled eggs before coming back and taking a seat.

  “I don’t have a fork,” she said.

  He rose without a word and got one for her. She thought about sprinting away, but something held her back. A feeling. She felt like this man would shoot her in front of as many witnesses as there happened to be around.

  She began to eat. Though she wasn’t actually hungry, she didn’t want to leave with him and so she feigned gusto as she shoved eggs in her mouth and drank down the juice.

  “Your accent’s French, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you from France?”

  “No.”

  “Where are you from?” she said with a mouthful of bagel.

  “I’m from Corsica.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “It’s an island, off the coast of Italy.”

  “I thought you said you were French?”

  “It is a French island.”

  “What’s it like?”

  He leaned back in his chair and glanced around. “It is the most beautiful place in the world. The water is as blue as crystal and the weather is always sunny and warm.”

  “Do you have family there?”

  “I think that is enough questions for now. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not done.”

  “Yes you are.”

  He took her arm and led her out of the motel and through the parking lot. They got to the car before she tried to pull away.

  “I’m not going,” she said.

  He brought her close and without her even seeing him pull it out, she felt the pistol against her side.

  “If I fire a single shot into your liver, you will die. No amount of surgery can save you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she said, panic in her voice. “Just let me go.”

  He opened the passenger side door and shoved her in. She opened the door as soon as he went around to the driver’s side, and he ran back, pushing her into the backseat as he climbed into the driver’s seat and locked the doors.

  “Please,” she said, crying now, “just let me go.”

  He pulled out of the stall and onto the road, melting into the traffic.

  CHAPTER 47

  Vanessa ran on the treadmill until she nearly collapsed. The gym was empty this early in the morning and she had requested they turn off every television in order to hear only the hammering of her feet against the machine.

  When she was through, she toweled off and drank water out of a neon green bottle. She headed for the locker room. Not one to even consider showering in public, she gathered her things and left the gym.

  The clouds had cleared and the sun was out, the sky a light blue. She flipped on her sunglasses before walking down the sidewalk when she
noticed somebody leaned against the glass doors of a coffee shop entrance.

  “Henri, what a pleasant surprise.”

  “You know, my grandfather used to say that working out is like masturbation.”

  “Okay, so now you’ve grossed me out. What is it I can do for you?”

  “We need to talk. Can I buy you a coffee?”

  “No, but you can buy me a nonfat latte.”

  He nodded and held the door open for her. Inside was busy and they took a table by the windows after standing in line and placing their orders. Henri got a muffin and a small coffee, which he stirred with a spoon he had in a little carrying case in his pocket.

  “You carry your own spoon?” she asked.

  “I worked as a dishwasher in many restaurants. I don’t trust restaurants as a consequence.”

  “From dishwasher to Interpol detective. That’s gotta be an interesting story.”

  “Not really.” He took a sip of the coffee. “I haven’t seen you since the United Nations conference. You look the same. Some people, time does not affect.”

  “I try. How’s Collette?”

  “Good. She wanted me to say hello if I happened to see you. I don’t know why she would think that. She just heard I was coming to America and you are the only American she knows.”

  “She’s sweet. Too young and pretty for you, old man, but sweet.”

  He grinned. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky. What about you? No marriage plans?”

  “Nothing yet,” she said. “My work sees to that.”

  He nodded. “Perhaps you should find different work.”

  “No, I love what I do.”

  “You’re an idealist.”

  “You’re not?”

  He took another sip of coffee. “I was in Mexico once, following a heroin ring that had set up their shop in Bordeaux of all places. They were going to use it as a distribution center for all of Europe. I followed them to Mexico and tracked down the man I was looking for, the kingpin I guess you would call him. It took ten Interpol agents and the Mexican army to bring him down, but we did. He was charged with fifty-two counts of murder and hundreds of counts of narcotics and arms smuggling, human trafficking…the list went on and on.”