Brenda Novak - The Perfect Murder

“I wanna go home,” she repeated dully, and Sebastian wished, more than anything, that he could make it possible.

“Untie her. She has nothing to do with this, Malcolm. This is between you and me.”

“Throw down your gun and I will.”

Sebastian couldn’t do that. The second he did, he and Jane would both be at Malcolm’s mercy. “I won’t give up my gun.”

“Sebastian, get out of here.” Jane seemed to be regaining her faculties, but Sebastian ignored her. He couldn’t afford the distraction. Not right now.

“Cut her loose and let her walk out,” he told Malcolm.

“Are you kidding me? So she can help you? So she can call the police?”

Sebastian’s finger began to sweat on the trigger. He wasn’t getting out of this as quickly as he’d hoped. The police were probably on their way. Would they intervene before he could finish? Would the surprise cause Malcolm to fire? “This is your game, Officer Turner. What kind of play do you want to call?”

“That’s it. She’s dead.” Malcolm spoke as if he was tired of fooling around, as if killing Jane was his only way out. So this time when he put the gun to her head, Sebastian feared he’d really pull the trigger.

In a panic, he raised his own weapon to get off a shot he hoped would save her life. It was her only chance. But the blast that nearly blew out his eardrums told him Malcolm had fired first.

The noise took Malcolm by complete surprise. He’d been about to pull the trigger when someone fired at him from the other doorway. Who the hell was it? Had Sebastian called the police? Malcolm had been so caught up in his standoff with Sebastian, he hadn’t noticed any other movement, any other noise-but he hadn’t been listening for it, either.

Scrambling to take cover before he could be fired on from both directions, he managed to roll behind the couch, which effectively shielded him from both doorways. Jane was the only one out in the open. She was tied to that chair and couldn’t move, but Malcolm didn’t care about her. He thought it would be the greatest irony in the world if Sebastian shot her himself. Then maybe he’d rot in jail while Malcolm took off for the Bahamas or some other tropical paradise.

Another shot rang out. This one sounded as if it lodged in a wall. A third followed. Sebastian cried out to whoever it was to stop, but if this was a cop, he didn’t seem to realize that another person was at risk. He just kept firing.

Sebastian dashed in to save Jane-and took a bullet. Malcolm heard the shot and the resounding grunt. He’d been firing himself, had done so several times, but he didn’t think he’d hit anything.

In an instant, Sebastian toppled the chair and threw himself on top of Jane, protecting her with his body. Now that he was so low to the ground, Malcolm couldn’t hit him without standing up, and he knew the second he got up he’d be dead.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he cried out to the stranger.

“I want you,” came the response.

“Luther? Luther, stop!” It was Jane. She seemed to recognize the man’s voice, but Malcolm had never met a Luther. Who was this person and how had he found them? Why did he have a gun? He was quite obviously not the police.

And then it became clear.

“This one’s for Latisha,” the man yelled and fired again. “You will never touch my daughter, or any other man’s daughter, again.”

Malcolm became aware of Sebastian pulling Jane from the room. He wanted to stop them, but he couldn’t lift his head without the risk of having it blown off. It seemed the stupid son of a bitch who’d pinned him down from the opposite doorway was determined to keep shooting. But just as that thought went through his mind, the bullets stopped.

“Take her and get out of here,” Luther called in the ensuing silence, and it was only then that Malcolm realized his error. The bullet Sebastian had taken must’ve been his own because Luther hadn’t been shooting toward Jane. He’d been shooting away from them, giving Sebastian the cover he needed to get her to safety.

And now Latisha’s father was shooting to kill. There was nothing to stop him.

This was over. He had to get out, but how? The police were on their way. Even if he could make it to the door-and that seemed impossible-they’d be on top of him before he could get as far as the drive. And being captured would be worse than death. Then everyone he knew from before, his family, his neighbors, his friends on the force, they’d all know what he’d done.

The sirens were drawing close. Seconds later, he could hear the slam of car doors and the shouts of men he didn’t recognize. He had to make a decision. Dropping his gun, he lifted his hands and stepped in front of Latisha’s dad.

“Do it!” he yelled. “Do it now! I’m right here.”

His actions took the man by surprise. Seemingly determined to give Malcolm exactly what he’d asked for, he aimed. But then he lowered his weapon. “Hell, no. You ain’t worth it. I’d rather leave you to your own kind.” Then he fired a final shot into the ceiling and ran out the back.

The stampede of feet told Malcolm the police were coming through the front door. Scrambling for his gun, he reclaimed it and raised it, pointing at the entrance to the room. If he couldn’t get Latisha’s dad to shoot him, he’d provoke the first officer. But that officer didn’t fire. Instead he ducked behind the wall and yelled out, “Put down your weapon!”

“You’re not taking me in. I won’t go to prison,” Malcolm said. Then he turned the gun on himself. Squeezing his eyes closed, he swallowed hard and told himself to pull the trigger. One shot, and his brains would splatter on the wall. It would all be over. It was the only way left to win.

But he couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the guts.

Sagging to his knees, he let the gun fall as tears began to streak his face. Sebastian had won.

Jane couldn’t believe that Sebastian was safe. She saw the dent in the bulletproof vest he’d been wearing that showed where the bullet had gone. It had hit him hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He admitted that it hurt, said he’d have a bruise on his chest, but it hadn’t seriously harmed him. He was fine and, although she felt as if her head was about to explode from the beating, Jane knew she’d be okay, too. Once again, she’d survived.

“Where’s Kate?” she asked as Sebastian held her in the back of David’s car. David was inside now, but he’d called an ambulance, was insisting that both of them get medical help. Afterward, they’d have to answer a lot of questions. But that could wait. The police had more important things to do right now.

“At the Burkes’.”

“Does she know that I was in danger?”

“No. I didn’t tell her.”

“That’s good.” She closed her eyes until she felt Sebastian nudge her gently.

“Can you believe it’s over?” he murmured.

She gazed at the car that held Malcolm. He wasn’t looking at them. His head was bowed as if he knew he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

“He’s going to prison,” she said.

“He was a cop who murdered three people. They have irrefutable proof. I think he’ll get the death penalty.”

“Where do you suppose they’ll try him?”

“Here.”

“But he killed two people in New Jersey. They have the death penalty there, too, don’t they?”

“They do, but they haven’t had an execution since 1976.”

An officer crossed the lawn and strolled up, frowning over some notes he’d been taking on a clipboard. “When I got here, I heard two different kinds of gunshots. But you two were the only people I met coming out. Was there someone else inside the house, someone besides the two of you and Mr. Turner over there?”