Very fitting and appropriate.
Just so. Just right.
Jack and Jill would be the biggest thing since Kennedy, and that was more than thirty years ago. He was happy to be a part of it. Thrilled, actually. He felt honored.
For tonight performance, the part of Jack will be played by Kevin Hawkins.
Watch closely now, theater fans. This act will be unforgettable.
THE GRAND FOYER of the Kennedy Center was mobbed with uppity Washingtonian assholes. Theater people, Jesus. It was mostly an older crowd -- season subscribers. Tables were set up sellingjunky T-shirts and high- priced programs. A woman with a gaudy red umbrella was guiding a tour of high school kids through the intermission crowd.
There was a very nasty and difficult trick to this killing, Kevin Hawkins knew.
He had to get unbelievably close to the victim, physically close, before he actually committed the murder.
That bothered him a lot, but there was no way around it. He had to get right on top of the target, and he could not fail at this part of the job.
The photojournalist was thinking about it as he successfully blended into the noisily buzzing theater crowd.
He eventually spotted Supreme Court Justice Thomas Henry, Franklin. Franklin was the youngest member of the current Court. He was an African-American. He looked haughty, which fitted his reputation around Washington. He was not a likable man. Not that it mattered.
Snapshot Kevin Hawkins took a mind photo of Thomas Henry Franklin.
On the justice's left arm was a twenty-three-year-old woman.
Snapshot. Snapshot.
Hawkins had done his homework on Charlotte Kinsey, too. He knew her name, of course. He knew that she was a second-year law student at Georgetown. He knew other dark secrets about Charlotte Kinsey and Justice Franklin as well. He had watched the two of them together in bed.
He took another moment to observe Thomas Franklin and the college girl as they talked in the Grand Foyer. They were as animated and bubbly as any of the other couples there. Even more so. What great fun the theater could be!
He took several more mind photos. He would never forget the image of the two of them talking together like that. 5napshot. And that. Snapshot.
They laughed very naturally and spontaneously, and appeared to like each other's company Hawkins found himself frowning.
He had two nieces in Silver Spring. The thought of the young law student with this middle-aged phony irked the hell out of him!
The irony of his harsh judgment brought a sudden smile to his lips. The morality of a stone-cold killer -- how droll! How insane.
How very cool.
He watched the two of them move onto the large terrace off the lobby He followed several paces behind. The Potomac stretched out before them and was black as night. A dinner-cruise boat from Alexandria -- the Dandy -- was floating by The sheer curtains between the lobby and terrace flapped dramatically in the crisp river wind. Kevin Hawkins carefully moved toward the Supreme Court justice and his beautiful date. He took more mind photos of the two of them.
He noted that Justice Franklin's white shirt was a size too small, grabbing at his neck. The yellow silk tie was too loud for his subdued gray suit. Charlotte Kinsey had a quick, sweet smile that was irresistible. She had lovely rounded breasts. Her long black hair swirled in the river breeze.
He physically brushed against the two of them. Begot that close to Charlotte and Thomas. He actually touched the law student's long shiny hair. He could smell her perfume. Opium or Shalimar.
Snapshot.
He was right there. So close. He was practically on top of them, in every sense of the phrase.
His mind's eye continued to snap off photo after photo of the two of them. He would never forget any of this, not a single frame of the intimate murder scene.
He could see, hear, touch, smell; and yet he couldn't feel a thing.
Kevin Hawkins resisted all human impulses now. No pity No guilt. No shame. And no mercy The law student carried a leather bag on her left shoulder. It was slightly open, just a sliver, just enough. Ah, carefree, casual, careless youth.
The photojournalist was good with his hands. Still good. Still steady. Still very quick. Still one of the best.
He slid something into her bag. C'est ca. That was it! Success.
The first of the night.
Neither she nor Justice Franklin noticed the fleeting movement, or him, as he passed by in the crowd. He was the river breeze, the night, the light of the moon.
He felt incredible exhilaration at that special moment. There was nothing in the world like this. The power in taking, stealing, another human life was like nothing else in the full palette of human experiences.
The hard part was over, he knew. The close work. Now the simple act of murder.
