Jason Pinter - The Guilty

I waited for him to continue.

"So ballistics confirmed the same caliber shot was used to kill Athena Paradis and Joe Mauser."

"No big shock there," I said.

"No, we figured it was the same sick son of a bitch. But they were surprised to find out the caliber bullet our man used."

"Unusual?"

"I'd say. 44-40 magnum rounds." Curt waited a moment.

He expected my jaw to drop, but I must have slept through my NRA 101 course.

"Why's that surprise you?"

"Nobody uses. 44-40 ammunition these days. Just an impractical caliber to use, on both sides of the good guy/bad guy coin."

"Why's that?"

"Magnum rounds are large, man. Heavy velocity, heavy impact. The recoil on those things will knock you on your ass.

Forget everything Dirty Harry said, any cop who wants to be able to get off a second round in the same zip code would be an idiot to carry around a magnum. Only people who use it are idiot cons who think it looks pretty, but any perp who knows anything about weapons would prefer something lighter."

"Idiots don't kill women with a single shot from a hundred yards out," I said.

"No. That takes a different kind of mental defect."

"So what are magnum rounds used for?" I asked.

"Hunting, mostly," Sheffield said. "Got an uncle, lives out in Montana, goes big game hunting using magnum rounds.

Got a black bear head on his mantel used to scare the shit out of me and my sister growing up. It's a good caliber for up to a hundred and fifty yards, after that the bullet is too heavy to maintain its accuracy."

"The killer shot both Athena and Joe Mauser from within two hundred yards."

"Right."

"Further reduces his idiocy quotient. Obviously the killer is smart enough to know his range."

"Question is," Sheffield said, "why would anyone use magnum rounds for that kind of sniper shooting? Only an idiot would try to kill a person from far away using a magnum round. . 22s are lighter, faster and more accurate. Not to mention easier to get. I'm up there on the roof? I'm using. 22s."

"Unless there's a reason for using magnum rounds," I said.

"Whoever killed Mauser and Athena planned the murders out.

They knew Athena was going to be at the Kitten Club, and they knew the setup outside city hall well enough to position themselves for a shot. You don't go through that kind of trouble and then randomly pick a gun and bullet that might separate your shoulder with the recoil."

"It is sexy ammo," Curt said, rather offhandedly. "Magnum."

We continued walking, both processing the information.

Powerful, short range, heavy, high velocity. Sexy.

"Wait," I said. "What do you mean it's sexy?"

"Look, I'm not saying you'll find it at Victoria's Secret…"

"Come on. The killer chose this ammo for a reason. Why does someone choose magnum ammunition over something more practical? Especially when they have everything else planned to a T?"

"Well," Curtis said. "Dirty Harry made magnum ammo cool. Forget which one of the movies it was, but he used. 44 caliber special loads, which are lighter and don't have the same recoil. Funny thing is they didn't actually use a magnum while shooting the movie, they used-"

"Come on," I said, impatiently. "What else?"

"Well, magnum ammo is probably the one ammunition that's actually known in pop culture. Ever see that movie,

Winchester 73? " I shook my head. "Great flick. James

Stewart and Shelley Winters. Anyway, the Winchester is commonly referred to as 'The Gun that Won the West.' Most popular rifle, probably ever, kind of a folk legend. The Winchester uses. 44-40 magnum rounds."

"No shit," I said. "Winchester, huh?"

"Winchester."

"Think there's a chance our killer might have used a Winchester on Athena and Joe?"

"It's a possibility, man, but the Winchester plant shut down a few years ago. It's not even called Winchester these days, some conglomerate took it over. Probably called GunTex or something stupid. And trust me, nobody uses Winchester rifles anymore. They went out with the dodo and bellbottoms."

"Some people think bell-bottoms are hip," I said.

"Hey, what you and your girl do is between the two of y'all."

"Yeah, but maybe there's someone out there who thinks

Winchesters are the new black. Or at least has a reason for using one."

"Well, I can't imagine there are a whole lot of working ones left, so you got yourself a lead there, Maureen Dowd."

"And the note," I said. "You told me another note was left at the scene again."

"No, I didn't," Curt said.

"You did, asshole, give it."

Curt looked around, his eyes narrowing. "This is some creepy stuff, man. Hard to get something like that out of your head."

"Do you have a copy of it I could take?" I asked.

"Nah. I didn't need one. You don't forget something like that."

"What did the note say?"

Curt stopped, seemed to think for a moment, then carefully spoke.

"It said, 'People thought me bad before, but if ever I should get free, I'll let them know what bad means.'"

"I'll let them know what bad means," I repeated. "I didn't write that."

"He used a line from one of your articles after shooting

Athena, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Not exactly flattering. I was worried for a bit this guy had it out for me, but…guess he just liked my work."

"That make you feel better or worse?"

"Not sure," I said.

"Warm and fuzzy this guy is not."

I clapped Curt on the shoulder. "Listen, Curt, I really appreciate it."

"Just do me a favor, wait until Carruthers makes his statement before you use that quote. Do all the research you want, just don't jump the gun," Curt warned.

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours. So now it's back to protecting and serving and all that good stuff," I said.

"You mean posing with tourists and keeping the kids away from my Glock. And you go back to being all fair and balanced and stuff," Curt replied.

"All the news that's fit to print," I said.

Suddenly I heard a crackling sound. Curtis looked at me.

Both of our heads shot to his waistband where his walkietalkie was attached. A voice came over the speaker. I only made out two words, and my blood froze.

"Shots fired…"

Curtis grabbed the walkie-talkie off his belt. The voice crackled again.

"10-10, shots fired, repeat, 10-10, shots fired at the

Franklin-Rees building. All officers respond."

I looked at Curtis, saw a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes. "That's-"

"Four blocks from here."

Curtis turned and sprinted down the street, pedestrians parting, holding their children and backing against the wall.

I had no choice. I sprinted after him.

I followed Curt Sheffield like a running back wisely trailing a bruising fullback. Oxygen burned in my lungs, and I felt my side tickle right below the scar where one year ago my perforated lung had to be inflated. Fear gripped me, my heart hammering. Shots fired. Why the hell was I running toward the shots? I heard sirens in the distance. Screams loud enough to be heard over them. Men and women were running past me. We were swimming against a terrified tide. And I saw one man run by, blood staining his shirt.

The Franklin-Rees company published many of the country's most popular magazines. A multibillion-dollar corporation, its headquarters was a brilliant steel monstrosity with enough security measures inside to stop a tank. But as I got closer, I could tell that all the security inside the building was useless to prevent the horror of what happened just outside.

I saw a dozen officers, guns drawn, massing around the entrance to the Franklin-Rees building. Curt Sheffield was barking into a walkie-talkie. I heard sirens. Cop cars. An ambulance seemed to be drawing near. I stepped closer. And wondered why the ambulance was in such a rush.