Robert Ferrigno - Sins of the Assassin

“I heard you’re a stubborn old Catholic who almost got himself taken into custody at the I-90 site.”

“I found something there, something State Security missed.”

“I didn’t hear that. What did-”

“An ear.”

“How nice for you.”

“Yeah, it was,” said Colarusso, annoyed. “The shape and whorls of an ear are as good as fingerprints for making an ID. The bodyguard was exFedayeen, every hair on his head’s in the files. The ear’s not his. The surveillance footage from the shop gave us a good view of al-Faisal’s ears-”

“So was it his ear or not?”

Colarusso shrugged. “The ear was in pretty bad shape. Forensics said it was an unlikely match, but that was as far as they would go.”

“What did State Security say when you told them that?”

“I didn’t bother. I think al-Faisal is alive and well, that’s all that matters.” Colarusso handed her a thumb drive. “I’ve got all my files here. Full photo array. I wanted you to walk the scene, look around, see if you spot something I missed.” He nodded at her. “Redbeard’s niece…between the two of us, something’s got to pop.”

Sarah slowly circled the room. Bins of electronic components, laser-etching tools, high-magnification glasses, nanocircuit boards, all of it neatly organized. One side of the room was filled with children’s toys-antique mechanical cars and airplanes, an Etch A Sketch, new handheld games, and zero-grav dioramas. She picked up a faceted Fly’s-eye viewer, looked through it. The whole room was broken into a thousand identical pieces. Colarusso waved at her, his face upside down and right-side up and all around. She put the viewer aside.

“All I know for sure was that it would have to take something big to get al-Faisal up here,” said Colarusso. “It’s just too risky for him.”

Sarah walked over to one of the identical nonconductive metal tables that lined the walls. “Is this Eagleton’s main work area?”

“Yeah. How did-”

She pointed to the floor. “More scuff marks here than by the others.” She sat down in the elevated chair, fitted her hands into the remote-control gloves Eagleton had used to manipulate minute objects-a good glove stud could tie a double-loop bowline hitch in an eyelash. She removed her hands, wiped them on her pants. “Was this the height the chair was set at?”

“Yeah.”

She swiveled the chair from side to side. Redbeard always said if you wanted to know what a man was thinking, check the view from his favorite spot. The facing wall was covered with images: sexy, pretty girls, sexy, pretty boys, sleek Japanese electronic gear, Italian sports cars. A publicity photo of a Russian astronaut who had died last year, hit by a tiny piece of debris while on a space walk. A postcard from a surfing beach in South Africa.

“Had he visited South Africa recently?” said Sarah.

“Not according to the State Department or Border Control. It was evidently a fantasy of his, according to the bartender at the Kitchy Koo. He was going to emigrate, surf all day, and live on coconuts.”

“There’re no coconuts in South Africa.”

“He didn’t surf either. I guess that’s why it was a fantasy.”

She removed the photos and postcards. Nothing on the back. She tilted each one in the light. No bumps. No microdots. Nothing. She replaced them exactly where they had been. Then she turned to the one untouched card, a five-by-seven holographic display card placed in the upper-right-hand quadrant of the wall. Key spot, according to Redbeard. The place where the eyes wandered during a pleasurable reverie. Most men would have put up a photo of their wife or sweetheart there, maybe their kids or a sports figure. Eagleton had a pornographic image of himself with his penis jammed deep into a woman’s mouth. Eagleton’s back was arched, his head turned to the camera. Leering.

Colarusso cleared his throat. “Yeah, that…that one’s a real prize.”

A very expensive holo, the image amazingly crisp. Flawless. She took it down from the wall, touched the controls on the side: 360-degree view and every inch of it high-definition. So clear she could see the reflection in the young woman’s eye. She zoomed in on the reflection, hoping to see something…

“That thing’s been checked out by experts,” said Colarusso. “Experts and nonexperts. Everybody wanted to take a peek.”

The reflection filled the screen…a small, half-lit room, night sky visible through the window.

Colarusso looked at the screen. “Never saw that before.”

Sarah rotated the image, zoomed farther in, trying to see what was out the window of the room. Just lights…a line of yellow lights. Freeway…or airport runway maybe. She zoomed back out to the main image, aware of Colarusso shifting from one foot to the other beside her. She looked past Eagleton’s triumphant expression, stared at the young woman’s face. Noted a small blemish on her cheek, pushed out from the pressure of Eagleton’s penis. She touched a tab, sent the image into full motion, Eagleton grinding slowly away for the camera, holding the young woman’s head in place with both hands.

“I seen enough,” said Colarusso.

Sarah kept her eyes on the screen. “I met him once. Did I tell you that?”

“Eagleton?” Colarusso looked shocked. “No…”

“I was seventeen or eighteen. The Zone was exciting and nasty, and I wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near it.” She watched as Eagleton wiggled his scrawny hips, tiny black hairs covering his thighs. “I went to his storefront to buy a satellite descrambler. He had the best, that’s what my girlfriends said. I was the only customer that day. He didn’t know who I was, of course. I remember…I remember him showing me how to install the descrambler, standing right behind me, and I suddenly realized he had his penis out and was rubbing his erection against me. I slapped him so hard my whole arm went numb, ran out the door. I remember looking back at him, and he was watching me like nothing had happened, just stroking himself and smiling.”

“You never told anybody?”

Sarah shook her head. Switched off the full-motion mode.

“No offense, but you might have gotten off easy,” said Colarusso. “Cops working the Zone told me this perv was as sick as they come.”

“He needed to be one up on everyone.” Sarah swiveled back and forth in the chair. “That was his real perversion. Fooling me into thinking he was helping me…that’s what really got him off.”

“Didn’t stop the Black Robes from coming to him for help when they wanted something,” said Colarusso. “Guardians of public morality-”

“You take photos of everything on this wall?”

“They’re in the thumb drive.”

“I’m going to take this holo home with me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I do.” Sarah touched the desk. “Where’s the computer console? Had to be one here.”

Colarusso grimaced. “Eagleton had it booby-trapped with magnesium switches. Soon as our techs attempted a download, the whole thing went up. Almost burned the police lab down.”

The Old One dismissed his acolyte with a wave of his hand, stared out through the observation deck of the Star of the Sea. Better to watch the approaching storm than another pink-cheeked novice back away, head bowed, eager to impress him with his piety and manners. The Old One distrusted piety in the young and was bored to his very bones with proper manners. Times like this he missed Darwin. The assassin reeked of death, reveled in his bloody impulses, but he was a man. No excuses. No regrets. No fear. Contemptuous of everyone, regardless of status or station, Darwin wore his insolence like a badge of honor, a mark of his rejection of good and evil. No God, no devil…just death and Darwin as far as the eye could see.