Death's Door Read Free Page A

house.
    There was no answer.
    â€œSomebody’s got to be in there,” he said to himself. “I know you’re in there. Come on out.”
    He peered through the gun sight at the windows of the house, one by one. If he saw the guy in the window—and if he had on the hat—he could take him out there.
    The gunman sighed. There was no movement.
    He punched in another number.
    â€œYeah,” he said into the phone, “I’m in place. I been here over an hour.”
    He glanced around. I’m in an old office building. Condemned. Third Floor. Corner window. I got a perfect shot at anyone going in or out of the house. I can even see the backyard, though it wouldn’t be as easy a shot.“
    â€œNo cat in the hat?”
    â€œNot yet. A guy come out about a hour ago and crossed the street—went in some private detective’s house. Didn’t have on any hat though.”
    â€œBareheaded?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œThen that wasn’t him. This guy never goes out without that hat.”
    â€œI remembered you saying that. That’s why I didn’t take him out. I had a gut feeling he was the right one, though. He had a scared look like he knew somebody was after him.”
    â€œWell, somebody is.”
    â€œAin’t it the truth.” The gunman paused and then said, “I just had a thought. What if he was going over to the detective’s because he just remembered what he saw?”
    â€œIt’s possible.”
    â€œI can take out the detective too—for a price.”
    â€œLet’s talk about that later.”
    â€œI’m always open to suggestions.”
    â€œYeah. Give me a call when it’s done.”
    â€œMy pleasure.”
    At that moment, two people came around the corner at the end of the street. One was a girl with a lot of hair. She was laughing. The man in the hat was beside her. He wasn’t laughing.
    â€œAh, the cat in the hat,” he said with a smile of anticipation.
    Then he spoke into the phone: “I got him.”
    He dropped the phone and threw his cigarette aside. His look sharpened as he picked up his gun and slid the barrel through the open window. He pointed his gun at the couple.
    He went down on one knee in a practiced move. He braced the M 16 on the windowsill. His eyes gleamed reddish in the dusty sunlight.
    The target was still too far away for a shot, but he was coming closer with every step. The gunman waited tensely, his eye never leaving the gun sight.
    The girl was looking at the cat in the hat, laughing, saying something that caused the man to attempt to quiet her. The cat in the hat glanced across the street.
    â€œNo, you’re looking in the wrong place, pal,” the gunman said. “I’m up here.”
    A car came around the corner and pulled up to the curb. The Bull let out his breath in a snort of impatience. He watched as the girl bent down to speak to someone in the car. The man was momentarily blocked from the gunman’s view.
    â€œGet outta there. Get outta there,” the gunman said between his teeth.
    The girl glanced up and pointed as if she were giving directions.
    Focused on the hat he did not notice that the girl had stopped pointing, that she had drawn back a step, that she had lifted binoculars to her face, that the binoculars were trained on him.
    The car moved and once again the cat in the hat came into view.
    â€œRight there,” the gunman said. “That’s perfect. Now don’t move. Just keep talking to the pretty girl. It won’t be so bad, pal. The last thing you’ll see in this life will be a pretty girl.”
    He remembered the man who had hired him saying, “Take him out through the feather.” He remembered saying, “I aim to please.”
    The gunman smiled.
    His finger tightened on the trigger.

5
    GUNFIRE
    â€œZone Three Police Department. Sergeant Mallory.”
    â€œSergeant, this is Mim