I couldn’t help but like the man. When Callie put a bullet in Robbie, I finished him off , to end his suffering. Myron was suffering too, but—
“Killing you,” I said, “It doesn’t seem right, somehow.”
Myron laughed hard enough to start coughing, which caused him to hack up all sorts of disgusting elements.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“No offense, but you kill people for a living. Does that seem right?”
“The people I kill, they don’t have a choice. You do.”
“And I’ve made it. So which is the better kill?”
We went silent a minute, me thinking about it, him giving me time to do so.
“Put yourself in my shoes,” he said. “What would you do?”
I thought about my heart, wondered if there was any way to fulfill this contract without causing a relapse.
“You ever kill a man?” I said.
“Heavens no!”
“Ever cheat on your wife, beat your kids, anything along those lines?”
“No.” He saw where this was going. “I’ve yelled at my kids a lot, and scolded my dog.”
“Scolded your dog?”
“More than once.”
“You bastard!” I said.
He smiled.
I smiled.
Then I slit his throat.
Chapter 59
It was about four in the afternoon when the dry wall guys finished laying their last coat of mud. A bunch of them planned to meet up afterward at a nearby tavern, but I said they’d have to celebrate without me this time.
The temperature was mild, and several hours of daylight remained. I loitered around the lot of the newly- constructed 8,500 square-foot home, picking up trash until the last worker drove away. Then I set to work.
The house at 2010 Dunvegan sat on the cul-de-sac of a new development called Rock Hill Gardens. Several homes in the neighborhood had already made it to closing, but none were inhabited yet. When seeking an attic to live in I prefer high income spec homes like these in new, protected neighborhoods. I cordon off a cubicle in a strategic gable of a house like this and use it as a safe house. I had a number of these safe houses scattered in major cities throughout the country, but this would be my first in Atlanta.
This particular lot was just under an acre, and featured a steep, wooded fall-away that afforded me access to the rear of the house while being sheltered from the view of future neighbors. It would be ready for occupancy in a month, but probably wouldn’t sell as quickly as the others because it didn’t overlook the Rock Hill Country Club golf course.
I had come to Atlanta because the leaders of a local terror cell had been identified and needed killing. Before I’d had a chance to get them, our informant learned that my old nemesis, Abdulazi Fathi, was coming to town in two weeks to give his people final instructions and a proper sendoff. Reasoning that killing Fathi along with the others would deal a severe blow to al Qaida, Darwin decided to put my mission on hold until Fathi arrived. With two weeks to kill (pardon the pun), I decided I might as well establish a safe house, so I checked out the neighborhoods until I found an upscale one in the final stages of construction. Then I called the number on the builder’s sign in front of the house and got myself hired on his construction crew.
For days I’d been hiding tools and wire and dry wall under rolls of insulation stacked in the attic above the garage. In a few minutes I’d start walling off the interior gable above the guest bedroom. I’d lay wire for electricity to run my computer and keep my cell phone charged. Then I’d tap into an HVAC vent for heat and air to keep me comfortable, and splice a line into the highspeed internet signal. Thirty days from now, give or take, I’d be living in a mini mansion with all the comforts of home.
Dry walling a gable is a simple way to steal part of a family’s home without paying rent. All I need is a few square feet and a couple hours of uninterrupted time to nail it up. If the builder were to notice the dry wall in the attic, he’d just think his guys made a dumb mistake. But that hasn’t happened yet, because in these late stages of new home construction, no one ever looks into the far ends of the attic. In older homes there’s always a risk of
