Prologue: A Fair Kill.

Prologue: A Fair Kill.

It was a cold night; a soft breeze blew through the streets, hinting of the coming blizzard.
James shivered and pulled his thick cloak closer about him. He stood in the narrow doorway, peering out into the deserted backstreet; he should be here by now!
Trash bins lay all about, heaped with stinking garbage, the asphalt street was dark and wet from the soft rain that had come early that afternoon. The light of the single street lamp glowed dimly, lighting a small circle of brick wall and trash cans.
There was a crash from the corner of the street opposite him and he started, staring into the gloom” Hey, you there?” He called.
There was no answer.
Carefully he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a long thin pistol with a heavy black silencer on the end of the barrel” Mr. Mason!” He called.
He edged toward the garbage bin where the sound had come from, keeping his gun ready, but not threatening.
The backstreets of Gotham where not safe in any way, even for criminals . . .
Especially for criminals!
A large dark shape moved in the shadows suddenly, and leveling his pistol, he was about to shoot when he heard soft footsteps behind him.
His heart beat fast as he spun around, coming face to face with a man. The light was behind him though, and he couldn’t see any features of his face” Mr. Mason?” He asked carefully, keeping his gun ready.
“Mr. Brandon.” The other man replied in a strange, slightly high pitched voice.
James lowered his gun, he recognized the voice easily.
Earlier that day he’d been in his office at the railroad station, trying to get through the passengers through as fast as he could, when the phone rang.
He’d picked it up.” Hello, Gotham Central Station.”
The voice on the other end of the line wasn’t what he had expected; it was the voice of the same man as the one who stood before him.” Mr. Brandon?”
He frowned” Yes, Mr. . . .?”
He didn’t recognize the voice.
“Mason. I have something I need done.” The voice said, strange with that high pitched edge.” And I hear you’re the best man for the job.”
His frown deepened, quickly becoming suspicious. He hadn’t always been a law abiding citizen of Gotham, and if anything, he didn’t want to go back.” What kind of job?”
“A well paid job.” The voice had answered.” I’ll give you 500 grand if you get it done for me, meet me behind () at eleven a-clock Monday if you’re interested.” The line had abruptly been cut.
500 hundred grand was a lot for anybody, and the temptation had been too much, I’ll at least see what it is, he had decided.
“What’s the job?” He asked, now certain that it was Mr. Mason standing before him.
“I need someone . . . taken care of.” Mr. Mason answered.
James frowned.” I’m not an assassin.” He said firmly.
“You used to be.”
“That was a long time ago.” He answered, not thoroughly suspicious.” I’ve become a straight man; I don’t want my past back in my life.”
The other man stared at him, his face invisible, though strangely pale. He didn’t answer.
James fingered his gun more readily.” Anyway, who told you?” He licked his lips nervously.
He could have sworn that the other man smiled” A friend of ours.”
“Look, Mr.” James growled.” I don’t want anything to do with you. My life changed for the better, and I don’t want, or have, to go back.”
He would have turned, but had a feeling this wouldn’t be a good idea.
“What about your family?” Chuckled Mr. Mason slowly, that high pitched edge in his voice making the words sound threatening.
James heart beat faster,” They’re not part of this!”
The other man chuckled cruelly” Really?” His voice sounded slightly insane.” Do this job and I’ll give you 500 grand.”
James sighed; his present job was terribly paid. But he had had to live with it, the people who’d given him the job hadn’t asked him any questions, and that had made him content. But his family practically lived in the slums . . . if he was careful no questions would be asked about how he got the money.” Make it 750 and I’ll do it. But on one condition!”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“Don’t make this a habit.” James growled.” I won’t be doing this twice! And forget you ever met me, got it!”
The other man nodded, it was pretty standard procedure.” I’ll give you two hundred and fifty now; and another five hundred when the job’s done.”
The man reached into his coat and pulled out a roll of bills, fresh and crisp.
James frowned and looked at them carefully; he didn’t want to be paid in marked or counterfeit bills.
But they were quite real, quickly he flipped through them. It was two hundred and fifty.
The other man glanced at him, his voice still strangely high pitched.” Don’t make a mess.”
“Who’s the guy?” James asked, nervously fiddling with the bills in one hand while his other held his pistol tightly.
“I want you to kill Bruce Wayne.”
James sighed.” He’s already dead? Remember, he –“
The other man cut him off.” He isn’t! Just do it.”
James shook his head, a small smile creasing his face. Slowly he leveled his pistol and pulled the trigger. There was a surprised cry, a splatter of blood on asphalt, and Mr. Mason fell on his face, with a bullet through his chest.
Quickly he searched the dead man’s jacket, and pulled out another two rolls of 250 thousand dollars each, then leaning over him, he started, the man wasn’t dead yet.” Why? Why did you do that . . . ?” He asked weakly.
James put the gun to the dying man’s temple.” See, I could have gotten that 750 grand by killing your guy, who I have nothing against. Or I could have just killed you, the real bad guy, and taken the money” He pulled the trigger for the second time.” Doing this, I do society a favor, and get paid for it.”
The man went still.
James glanced up and down the empty street. He saw a man a flash of movement and the dark shape of a man ran out from behind the trash cans, heading for the main street. He leveled his gun and pulled the trigger again. There was an empty echo up and down the street and the man fell on his face, dead.
James sighed; he’d promised his wife that he would never kill another man. That had been fifteen years ago, and he had kept up his promise . . . until now.
Slowly he turned, replaced his gun, and walked up the street and onto the highway; there he got in a taxi and drove away.
All he left behind was two dead men; and a spreading pool of blood on the asphalt road.

Murderers Mask.

Riiiiiiing, Riiiiiiing, Riiiiiing –
Janz rolled over and grabbed the telephone.
“Hello?” He asked sleepily.
“Detective McAnic?!” Demanded the caller’s voice.
“Me.”
“You’re needed right away at Central Park East, behind the Theater.” Said the man, who Janz now knew was one of the men behind the desk at the police station.
“I’m on my way.” He answered grumpily, hanging up.
Fifteen minutes later he pulled his car around the curb and went down the tiny back street that went behind the Theater.
He brushed his long greying hair out of his eyes and frowned, the street up ahead was blocked, three NYCPD cars were sitting idle, and a white and red ambulance was parked opposite them.
There were no onlookers, thank goodness for that. Janz hated to be watched while he worked.
He pulled his car up behind a stack of silver trash cans, and jumped out.
He paced quickly forward, nodding to the police officers surrounding the scene.
“What this time?” He asked one of them.
“A double murder” The tall, grizzled officer replied frankly, his face empty of emotion.
Janz elbowed his way past the man and stepped over to the scene. The road was dark and sticky from blood surrounding the two bodies; quickly his professional mind began to build a story out of what he saw.
Carefully he knelt down and examined one body, the coat was thrown back and he saw a pistol hidden there” Hmmm?” He wondered, he rolled the man over, ignoring the annoyed looks from the two medics standing helplessly nearby” Officer!”
The police man stepped over.” What can you see?”
Janz nodded.” This man, he was shot in the chest. He was probably standing. He fell easily, didn’t hit the pavement hard. That didn’t kill him though, so he was shot again, in the side of the head.” He grimaced.” The first shot wasn’t meant to kill, and the second was perfectly placed. See how his coat is thrown back and there’s an empty wallet there.”
The police officer shrugged.” So? We get murders for wallets every day here.”
Janz held up a finger.” Look at this wallet, I have a feeling it wasn’t carrying nickels and dimes.”
The police officer carefully picked up the wallet and nodded, it was heavy and thick; quickly he flipped through it.” No ID”.
“Go check the houses along here, find out if anybody was seen here at about midnight last night. Tell me if they heard three gun shots last.” Janz ordered.
The police officer nodded, and taking three men set out promptly to do as the detective told him to do. Not that the Janz was particularly higher ranking than the man, he was just very well respected for his experience in the Department.
Janz stepped over to the other man, shot right at the base of his skull from behind; he hit the asphalt pretty hard. He probably had been running when he was hit. Slowly he visualized what had happened. His experience paid off and he was certain that what he assumed was correct.
Something was nagging at the back of his mind though; he stood waiting for the officer to get back.
He nodded to the medics.” Bring them to the morgue.” Quickly he pulled out a slip of paper and wrote down a quick note.” Give them this.”
The medics quickly picked up the bodies and left, but Janz had a feeling the morgue wasn’t going to find any finger prints. But they would be able find out who the men where.
The officer came back ten minutes later.” Four people where right up above this, they were awake up to midnight, but none of them heard a thing.”
Janz gulped.” Good work officer.”
The man carefully watched Janz.” What do you think?”
Janz shook his head” I can’t be sure yet . . . “He paused.” But I think we may have a professional on our hands. These shots . . . the placing. I’d be willing to bet he used a silencer, and pretty heave caliber too.” He sighed.” I just wonder . . . how did it all happen? And why?”
The officer shrugged, he didn’t see much strange about it. So what? The man used a silencer. Most of the organized crime in the city was well equipped. So what? He shot some rich man and robbed him as he came out of the Theater. There where cases like this every day.
But Janz wasn’t one of the best detectives in the corps for no reason. He asked questions of scenes that nobody else even considered. He hunted for clues that seemed pointless. No criminal he had ever latched onto had ever escaped.
“Get a cleaning team out here.” He ordered the officer. It wasn’t good for people’s morale to see sticky blood all over the pavement behind their home.
He didn’t even bother to look for other clues, such as bullet shells, or anything the killer may have dropped, he was fairly certain that whoever it was must be a professional and that they would never had been so careless as to leave such a clue.
He was curious as to why the Department had called him out here. Usually the lower ranking detectives went for things like this, and the better detectives like himself where sent after the bigger deals.
His last job had only been finished last night.
He glanced up at the sky and smiled, the day was overcast, and he knew they would have a blizzard in by nightfall. He loved the snow.
He nodded to the police officer.” Go back to the station; I’ll take care of this.”
The man nodded and he and his men got in their cars and left. Janz sighed in satisfaction. He preferred to work alone.
First question: Who were the men who had been shot?
Janz wasn’t a great detective because he came up with random spouts of brilliancy. He was methodical, and determined in everything he did, he didn’t let anything stop him.
He knew the Captain at the station wouldn’t mind him taking on the case; there was no need to even discuss it with him. They were old friends, and he probably knew that Janz had wanted a break on something easier than usual for a while.
Getting back into his car, Janz pulled his NYPD detective’s coat over his normal leather jacket, and pinned his badge to it.
It was a short drive and he pulled into the morgue only a half an hour later.
They let him in instantly on sight of his badge, detectives usually had unopposed access to morgues, hospitals, and the like.
Stepping up to the receptionist he asked where the two men had been taken.
He turned and headed down the perfectly washed, shining white hallway with the room number burned into his mind, D-21.
He reached the D hallway and turned down it, counting the blue doors as he passed them.
19 . . . 20 . . . 21!
He pulled the door open and looked around; two men in white coats were standing over a body in the middle of the room. One of them looked up as he entered and he recognized Doctor Roth, an old friend of his.
“Ah, Janz” Called the thin, bald man, stepping forward and embracing him.” I was half hoping you’d be the one assigned to this one!”
Janz grinned and winced for the thousandth time at Jenner Roth’s thick Russian accent.” I’m glad to see you, it’s been a while.”
“Yes, it has.” The small man led him over to the body.
“What have you found?” Janz asked curiously.
“Ah” Jenner raised a finger, a puzzled look on his face.” It was actually rather strange, you see.”
He pulled back the white sheet on the one man’s body, the one who had been shot twice.” We searched the records using finger prints! Found nothing. I just sent off a DNA test to see if we can at least find his relatives.” Jenner shook his head.” No ID on him, nothing. I’d also be willing to bet he was shot by a professional too!”
Janz couldn’t help but chuckle, though it was rather subdued.” I guessed the same thing.” He frowned.” So . . . no fingerprint matches?”
Jenner shook his head.” None at all, usually at least one or two matches will come up on the system, but with him. Nothing”
Suddenly Jenner threw up his hands and ran off to the side, his feet pattering unevenly.” I forgot!” He called back.” I did find something else.”
He trotted back, holding a small white box.” The other man was a pizza delivery man Jonathan . . . uhm, ah, I forget his name!” He turned to the other doctor.” Robert, what was the other man’s name?”
The other doctor, Robert, looked up.” You said it was Rendall, remember?”
Janner nodded.” Ah yes, Rendall, poor fellow. Probably was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he had this on him!”
He handed Janz the box. Janz frowned and opened it” A camera!” He exclaimed.
Jenner nodded enthusiastically.” Yes! I haven’t checked it for pictures, so don’t get your hopes up.”
Janz quickly turned on the camera, it was rare that this kind of thing came along with a case, and he was hoping that he would find some pictures and be able to find out who the man was. Slowly he clicked through the recent pictures. The first one he saw made his heart beat fast.
It was the street, two men facing each other, one with a gun; and one holding a roll of bills. The man with the guns face was clear and vivid, as though he had been waiting there for his picture to be taken.
The second one he saw almost made his heart stop.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 09.03.2013

Alle Rechte vorbehalten