The Wizard of Death Read Free Page B

it’s pornographic I don’t want to see it,” Lyon said with an attempted laugh. “Unless she’s terrific.”
    â€œUh-huh,” Rocco replied as he bent to plug in the movie projector.
    â€œIf it’s a film monument to that great day you tagged fourteen cars for speeding on Route Sixty-six, I’m already bored.”
    Rocco reached over and snapped off the desk lamp and turned on the projector. “Debbie Williams took the film this afternoon at the green.”
    â€œShe’s only sixteen.”
    â€œI know, and the camera is one of those Kodak deals that sell for thirty or forty dollars. The state lab rushed a print for me.”
    They fell silent as Rocco adjusted the focus. As the film started, Lyon noticed that the camera wavered and frames blurred and sometimes slipped out of focus. He conjectured that the camera was a recent acquisition of the young girl’s and that perhaps the filming of the activities on the green was her cinematic baptism.
    â€œShe got it yesterday on her birthday,” Rocco said. “The camera, I mean.”
    â€œFigures,” Lyon replied.
    The camera panned to a beautiful, belligerent black face. “Hey, that’s Kimberly Ward,” Lyon said with delight. Kim lived in the apartment over the Wentworth garage with her teenage daughter. She was Bea’s administrative assistant, secretary and factotum for the Wentworths—when she wasn’t organizing protest marches. The camera moved from Kim’s face to the placard she was carrying. It paused there for a moment, and they could read the sign:
    â€œW ELFARE L AWS A RE U NFAIR ”
    â€œI get it,” Lyon said. “You’re arresting Kim for unlawful protest without a permit.”
    â€œNo. Just watch.”
    Spasmodic camera shots showed the green filling with people, the speakers arriving, and part of the speech given by the congressman. At one point the camera tilted in a skewed angle, swerved away from the speaker’s platform and slid along the green, showing Amsten House and the Congregational Church. Rocco stopped the projector. He reversed the machine for a moment and then started it forward. The shots of the house and church slid past. Rocco again stopped the machine and isolated the church.
    â€œWe were able to blow this frame up,” he said. “The astronomy department at the university isolated it and used a computer method developed for some of those space fly-bys. Look at the definition on the blowup.” He switched on the light and propped up a fifteen-by-fourteen picture of the church.
    â€œI can see him in there!” Lyon said. In the dark recess behind the belfry window, partway up the steeple, the definite image of a man holding a rifle could be discerned. “Too many shadows. You’ll never get an ID on that.”
    â€œI know, but I thought you might like to see it.”
    â€œHey, no kidding, Rocco. I’m not being coy. I really don’t want to get involved.”
    â€œThat’s not why I brought this stuff here. Keep watching.” He turned off the light and again started the projector. Bea was at the speaker’s podium making her introductory remarks for Randolph Llewyn. Even though Lyon knew what was coming, the muscles in his stomach tightened and he could feel the perspiration forming in the palms of his hands.
    As the introduction drew to a close, he could follow the movement of Bea’s lips. “The camera’s close in.”
    â€œFirst row,” Rocco mumbled.
    Lyon knew what Bea was saying: “A fine lawyer, dedicated family man, I give you the next governor of this state, Randolph Llewyn.”
    He saw his wife turn quickly and reach for Llewyn. Llewyn stood and was immediately flung backward by the impact of the bullet.
    The camera pointed to the sky, and then went dark. After the shots Debbie had probably flung herself to the ground as many others had.
    â€œI’m going