Robin Cook - Blindsight

Loud snores came from the bed against the far wall. Angelo wasn’t sure who was snoring, but once he was convinced both were still sound asleep, he motioned for Tony to follow him. Together they advanced to the bed.

It was a king-sized bed covered with a down-filled comforter. In the bed were a man and a woman of late middle age. They were both on their backs, their arms at their sides.

Angelo veered to the right to be on the same side as the woman. Tony went to the opposite side. The victims did not stir. Angelo motioned for Tony’s attention, pointing toward his Walther in the half-light of the bedroom, indicating that he was about to dispatch the woman and that Tony should keep his eye on the man.

Tony nodded. And as Angelo brought up his gun to bear on the sleeping, female head, Tony did the same across the bed. Angelo advanced the gun to the point where he’d be unable to miss, aiming at the temple, just above and in front of the ear. He wanted the bullet to penetrate into the base of the brain, approximately where it would end up if he were able to shoot her from behind.

The report was loud in relation to the silence that prevailed in the room, but when compared with normal noise, it was a soft, hissing thump, like a fist striking a pillow.

Hardly had Angelo recovered from the wince he made after pulling the trigger when there was another similar hissing thump. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the man’s head rebound off the pillow, then settle back. A dark stain that looked black in the half-light began to spread.

“I couldn’t help it,” Tony said. “I heard you shoot and I couldn’t help pulling the trigger myself. I like it. It gives me such a rush.”

“You’re a goddamn psychopath,” Angelo said angrily. “You weren’t supposed to shoot the guy unless he moved. That was the plan.”

“What the hell difference does it make?” Tony said.

“The difference is that you have to learn to follow orders,” Angelo snapped.

“All right already,” Tony said. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Next time I’ll play exactly how you say.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Angelo said. He started toward the door.

“How about looking around for some cash or valuables?” Tony asked. “After all, we’re here.”

“I don’t want to take the time,” Angelo said. At the door to the hall he turned. “Come on, Tony! We’re not here to turn a profit. Cerino’s already paying us enough.”

“But what Cerino doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Tony said. He picked up a wallet on the night-table along with a Rolex watch. “How about I take a souvenir?”

“Fine,” Angelo said. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Three minutes later they were speeding away.

“Holy crap!” Tony exclaimed.

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s over five hundred big ones in here,” Tony said, waving the bills in the air. He already had the gold Rolex watch on his wrist. “Add that to what Cerino is paying us and we’re doing okay.”

“Just be sure to get rid of that wallet,” Angelo said. “It could finger us for sure.”

“No problem,” Tony said. “I’ll drop it in the incinerator.”

Angelo pulled up to the curb and put the car in park.

“Now what?” asked Tony.

Angelo leaned over and took the list out of the glove compartment. “I want to see if there’s anybody else in this area,” he said. “Bingo,” Angelo said after a brief perusal.

“Here’s two in Forest Hills. That’s right around the corner. We can do both before dawn no problem. I’d say that’d make it a pretty good night.”

“I’d say it’d make it a fabulous night,” Tony said. “I’ve never made this kind of money.”

“All right!” Angelo said, studying a map. “I know where both of these houses are.

Expensive part of town.” He placed the map and the list down on the center console, put the car in gear, and drove off.

It took less than half an hour for Angelo to cruise past the first house. It was a large white mansion set far back from the street. Angelo guessed the house sat on at least two acres. Several leafless elms lined a long, curving driveway.

“Which one this time?” Tony asked as he gazed up at the big house.

“The man,” Angelo said. He was trying to decide where to leave the car. In such a ritzy part of town there weren’t many vehicles parked on the street. In the end, he decided to drive right up the driveway since it looped behind the house. He could park so that the car wasn’t visible from the street. He turned his lights off as he came up the drive, hoping the darkened car wouldn’t attract any attention.

“Now remember,” Tony said as they prepared to move in. “This time it’s my turn.”

Angelo looked to the heavens as if to say, “Why me, God?” Then he nodded and the two went to the house.

The white mansion proved more difficult than the more modest stone house. The white mansion had several overlapping alarm systems that took Angelo some time to figure out as well as neutralize. It was a half hour before they broke out a whole sash in a window into a laundry room.

Angelo went in first to make sure there were no infrared detectors or lasers. When he determined the coast was clear, Tony climbed over the windowsill.

They stayed together and moved slowly through the kitchen, where they could hear a TV playing in a nearby room.

As carefully as possible they moved toward the sound. It was coming from a room off the front hall. Angelo went first and peered around the corner.

The room was a den with a wet bar built into one wall, a giant rear-projection TV in another. In front of the TV was a chintz-upholstered chesterfield. Asleep in the center of the couch was an enormously overweight man, dressed in a blue bathrobe. His stubby, surprisingly skinny legs stuck out from beneath the corpulent mass of his abdomen and were propped up on a hassock. On his feet were leather slippers.

Angelo pulled back to talk with Tony. “He’s asleep and alone. We’ll have to assume the wife, if there is one, is upstairs.”

“What are we going to do?” Tony questioned.

“You wanted to whack him,” Angelo said. “So go in and do it. Just do it right. Then we’ll check on the woman.”

Tony smiled and stepped beyond Angelo. His gun with the silencer in place was in his right hand.

Rounding the corner, Tony boldly strode into the den. He went directly up to the man on the couch. Pointing the gun at the man’s temple just above the ear, he purposefully bumped the man’s thigh with his leg.

The man sputtered as his heavily lidded eyes struggled up. “Gloria, dear?” he managed.

“No, honey, it’s me-Tony.”

The hissing thump knocked the man over onto his right side on the couch. Tony leaned over and placed the muzzle of his silencer at the base of the skull and fired again. The man didn’t move.

Tony straightened up and looked back at Angelo. Angelo waved for him to follow him. Together they went up the stairs. On the second floor they had to search through several rooms before finding Gloria. She was fast asleep with the lights on but with black eyeshades over her eyes and earplugs in her ears.

“Looks like she thinks she’s a movie star,” Tony said. “This is going to be a snap.”

“Let’s go,” Angelo said. He gave Tony’s arm a tug.

“Aw, come on,” Tony said. “She’s like a sitting duck.”

“I’m not going to argue,” Angelo snarled. “We’re getting out of here.”

Back in the car, Tony pouted while Angelo checked the fastest route to the next house. Angelo didn’t care how long Tony brooded. At least it kept him quiet.

The final house was a two-story row house with a metal awning forming a carport in front of the single-car garage. A small chain-link fence demarcated a postage-stamp-sized lawn that contained two pink flamingo statues.