'My… God…' Lex answered feebly. The last thing he felt was the deadly blade slicing into his throat, slashing through tissue and muscle. Air burst from the gaping wound and showered blood as it hissed from his lungs. With demonic glee, the assassin kept striking over and over and over in the darkness of the room.
When the deadly work was done, the executioner dipped a finger in the widening pool of blood and, lifting the hair on the back of the victims head, printed, R4.1102.'
The red rays of dawn filtered through the wooden slats of the shutters, casting long, harsh shadows across the hardwood floors. Vail lay on his back and stared up at the pickled-blonde cathedral ceiling, softly crimson in the floor's reflection of morning light. Vail turned his head. Jane lay on her side, her forehead resting against his arm. He pulled the feather comforter up over her naked shoulders and slid out of her bed, gathering up his clothes and shoes from where they were strung out across the floor.
'Whew!' he said to himself, remembering how they had got there.
Tudor Manor was one of an ensemble of mansions built in the mid-Twenties and modelled after the Tudor mansions of England. From the outside they seemed strangely incongruous with the more midwestern architecture of Rogers Park. Each building (there were four in what was collectively known as Tudor Estates) had sweeping projecting gables decorated with gargoyles and crenellations, a slate roof, ornamental chimney pots, and towering casement windows.
Inside, Venable had turned her apartment into a bright, cheery place. Its walls were painted in soft pastels, the woodwork and cabinets were pickled-white oak. There was a large living room with casement windows facing Indian Bounty Park, fifty yards away. The rear wall of the room faced a hedged courtyard and was divided by a bullet-shaped copper-and-glass atrium, which towered up to the bedroom above. Two tall ficus trees dominated its core and climbing plants adorned its glass walls. Begonias, narcissi, and impatiens wove colourful patterns between and around the two trees. There was a guest bedroom and a formal dining room and a kitchen that looked like a chef's dream.
He found filters and a pound of coffee in the freezer and started the coffee before heading into the guest bath. Thirty minutes later, dressed in the previous night's wrinkled suit and shirt, he poured two cups of coffee and took one back up the stairs to the bedroom.
He placed her cup on the night table, leaned over the bed, and kissed her on the cheek. She stirred for a moment and reached out for him. Her arm fell across the empty sheet. She opened one eye and squinted up at him.
'You're due in court in three hours,' said Vail. 'Pryor won't be happy if you're late. If you'd like to hustle, you can join me at Butterfly's for breakfast.'
She rolled over onto her back.
'I'll be busy for the next three hours,' she said sleepily.
'You got something up your sleeve, Lawyer Venable?'
She pulled the comforter slowly down until it was two inches below her navel, held her arms towards the ceiling, and wiggled them slowly.
'No sleeves,' she said.
'You're gonna catch cold.'
'I always wake up this way,' she said. 'It's too chilly to fall back to sleep. And I wouldn't dare set foot in Butterfly's this soon. It's your turf. They'd probably lynch me.'
'I thought we were putting all that behind us.'
'After Stoddard.'
'That's Shana's problem.'
'We'll see where we stand after the bail hearing.'
He leaned over her, supporting himself on both arms, and kissed her on the mouth. 'Great,' he said.
'See you in court.'
On the way out, he picked up the downstairs phone and dialled Stenner's car phone.
Stenner answered on the first ring. 'Where are you? I'm parked in front. Been calling you for fifteen minutes.'
'Pick me up on the Estes-Rockwell corner of Indian Bounty Park,' Vail said.
'What are you doing out there?'
'Jogging. I ran out of breath.'
'Damn it, what do you mean standing on a street corner in
