Honorable Assassin (33 page)

The .45 Smith and Wesson vomited fire and
lead. The German Shepherd yelped once as the bullet destroyed its
hips. It released Henry’s hand as it collapsed and Henry shot it
again. The lead constable got off another shot from his Glock and
this time the .40 caliber round creased Henry’s right arm deeply,
near the shoulder. The impact jerked his arm back and the .45 went
off involuntarily. It blew a hole in the constable’s chest a man
could put his fist though. Then the most damning of the recovered
footage was recorded. Henry Cuthbert methodically shot each
constable and the dog once each, in the head. He closed the trunk
and got back into his car. Then he drove away leaving a recording
of his black deed still running on the dashboard camera and three
victims behind.

Henry was not feeling his best. His left
hand was chewed and torn by the dog. His right shoulder was
bleeding badly where the constable’s bullet had passed through it.
He was driving a car that was already called in and had two bullet
holes in the trunk lid. It was not until he was a couple of
kilometers from the scene that he realized he had left his driver’s
license and registration in the police vehicle.

“This is kind of a cozy setup. I like the
idea and it practically guarantees privacy.” Gordon MacMaster was
chewing on a cigar but did not light it.

“All you need is two rooms. I can trust the
tart to keep her mouth shut for a while, but if the questions get
asked she’ll fold like the wilted rose she is.” Terry was smoking a
cigarette, listening to the water running in the shower.

“So you’ve approached the Dark Knight
President and proposed that he take over the Sydney Mafia?”

“I wouldn’t call it Mafia. That’s an
Italian… Sicilian term. It doesn’t really apply.”

“Let us not mince words here. We are playing
a game that has too many consequences to be concerned about what
name it holds. You have gotten off very lucky so far. Nobody has
killed you. The reason you are still alive is that nobody knew what
you are up to. Now you have invited a group of savages to join you
in your endeavor and opened the can for all the world to see. It
was a bad move and it could get you killed.”

“I have been very discreet and frankly, I
hadn’t heard from you in months. I thought you took the money and
ran.”

“You don’t get it, do you? If I had taken
the money, I would have left your corpse behind. I don’t leave
witnesses. Haven't you learned that?”

“But you have. The Troy brothers saw you, I
assume. I know Henry Cuthbert saw you.”

“Those are not witnesses, they are
employers. They have as much to lose by fingering me as I do. You
are a witness. We are speaking together because you are on the
inside and I am on the outside. You feed me the information and I
pull the deal. Our last operation was a resounding success,
yes?”

“Yes, except I thought…”

“You thought I deserted you. You thought
that I was a man with no honor. I can see you still have much to
learn about those around you. When honor is present, trust follows.
I can see your trust is not easily bought, nor should it be.”

“Speaking of bought…”

“Your part is in your little apartment in
Orange. If you can call it that. It’s not very secure.”

“You broke in my room?”

“Yes. I needed to provide you with your cut.
You have some impressive weapons in that room but it is not very
secure. A good dead bolt lock on the door would help. I practically
walked in.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Think nothing of it.”

The water stopped running in the shower and
they could hear the girl moving around in the bathroom. The hair
dryer whirred up.

“So, what is our next target?”

“I need to assess how much damage you’ve
done by talking to this Saxon creature. We may need to back off
entirely. You may have little regard for your life but I prize mine
highly. I will get back with you. Remember, if you can get
information that nobody knows you have, that makes the best target.
If they can’t trace it to you they will blame someone else.”

“I’ll see what I can get.”

“What about this woman? Is she going to
compromise us?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve known her a very
long time now.” Terry didn’t mention that she had been his first,
the woman that had completed his transformation to manhood after
his first kill.

“You know, this Saxon is no match for the
Troy brothers.”

“I know.”

“Then you also know that even if we put him
in power he won’t be able to hold it.” MacMaster was punctuating
his comments with his cigar.

“Yes, I know. I think they call it mutually
assured destruction.”

“You had best have a plan for stepping out
of the way when the ‘mutually assured destruction’ starts flying.
I’ve seen many men caught in a vortex they created only to have it
suck them in.”

“Noted. I was thinking we could leave the
country at that point. I will have done everything I set out to do
by then.”

It was on the news the next morning. Henry
Cuthbert was a fugitive from justice, wanted in connection with a
triple homicide. The fact that the third victim was a dog did not
matter. “Buttons” was a registered constable who had been killed in
the line of duty. Every officer in New South Wales was looking for
Henry.

“Jerry, please I have nowhere else to
go.”

“Go back to your gangster friends. They were
always more family to you than I.”

“No, Jerry it’s not true. Remember when you
had that crop failure a few years back and you needed a new tractor
at the same time. Who came up with that John Deere? And the hose
for the irrigation system, who brought that in?”

“Oh, aye. You did me some favors over the
years, but it won’t take long before they’re on to ye. Bloody hell,
Henry, you shot three constables. What on earth were ye
thinking?”

“They were setting me up. There was nothing
in the trunk. I never carry anything in the trunk. They towed my
car a week ago. I know they put something in the trunk then, or
they had a key made. I had nothing in the trunk. I never do.”

“Get the car in the barn. Then come inside.
Beth has a stew on, and we’ll get you some new clothes. You’ll be
wanting some iodine on those cuts, too.”

The next day Jerry was digging a big hole
with his back hoe. Henry’s car went into the hole and the dirt was
plowed over it. The cabin was not so much a summer getaway; it was
more of a hunting lodge type of structure. The amenities were
Spartan, as it was not designed for the long term. Nor was it on
the beaten path. Of course, Jerry’s sons knew where it was but his
wife could probably not have found it right away.

Henry was temporarily hidden from the
world.

It did not take the Provincial Police long
to show up on Jerry Cuthbert’s doorstep, looking for Henry. Jerry
told them his brother and he had limited contact since Henry had
moved to Sydney, that he had not seen him and that they would do
better to look in the city. The neighbors were interviewed as well
but the distances between people here precluded anyone having seen
anything. Henry’s car was nothing special, nothing to cause notice
anywhere there were roads.

Senior Sergeant Randolph Black had not
ruined his career in that he had not been drummed out of the
service of the state. He could never look forward to a promotion,
however. Senior Sergeant was the best he could expect in his life
and while it was not a bad position, it did not carry the perks of
an inspector’s position. It was the spot where the rank changed
from chevrons to pips, the equivalent of an enlisted man’s highest
ranking. Once surpassing that, the perks and the pay were much
better.

“Didn’t you tell the officers what they
would be dealing with?”

“This was not the team that was supposed to
do it and they were not supposed to do it during the day. The night
shift was instructed to do the deed that night but the instructions
were not public. The day crew weren’t rookies, either. They were
seasoned officers with years on the street. Cuthbert got the jump
on them. I can’t be sure how he knew but we have the footage of
what he did. He shot both men and the dog. Not before the dog took
a bite out of him and we know he was shot as well. He never showed
up at a hospital, but he left some blood at the scene.”

“That’s hardly a bloody consolation then is
it, Sergeant? I think it would be in your best interest to remember
that if word of your little operation gets out, I might be forced
to retire, but you will be incarcerated with the very same men you
have been arresting your entire career. I think that would be
sufficient motivation for you to find and silence this man.”
Superintendent Barlow had a reputation for being cool under fire.
He seldom showed his fangs in his advancing years. The Sergeant
noticed that this Saturday, it was not just that he was not invited
to have a drink, there was no bottle in evidence at all.

“Yes, sir. We have checked out his regular
spots, the places he does business, he hasn’t been there. His
regular associates haven't seen him. We checked out his brother’s
farm, no luck. His face has been on the telly. I would have
expected someone to have recognized him by now and given us a call.
We have advertised a reward and gotten the usual jokers calling in
but nothing of substance. I would think some clerk in a petrol
station would pick him up somewhere.”

“What’s next?”

“Well, I think we need to expand our search.
He’s on the run or he went to ground. On the run we’ll get someone
eyeballing him getting petrol or a quick bite. If he’s hiding in
the city somebody is supplying him and we have everybody on
alert.”

“It’s not enough. I want the men who
reported to him brought in. Anyone you think had any ties to him
needs to be brought in and questioned. Squeeze their heads and see
who sweats about it.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get on it right away.”

“You’re damned right you will. If you fuck
this up again there’s gonna be hell to pay. And I want to know why
the day crew took the initiative on this. Seasoned veterans my ass.
I saw the footage. Both of them staring into the trunk like little
boys with Cuthbert free to clobber them. Dismissed.”

Sergeant Black was glad to leave the office
and get back to the men who reported to him. Superintendent Barlow
had looked like he was going to take a bite out of him if he made a
move.

Black went to work on the list of Cuthbert’s
potential subordinates. The details on the list were from direct
observation and surveillance. They had known of Henry’s nefarious
associations, but they had not yet made a move on him. They lacked
good evidence previously. Now they had more than they needed and
knew everybody to question.

When the operation began it was no long-term
affair. The constables moved in like cowboys on a herd of cattle,
rounding them into pens made for criminals.

When Henry had gone on the run, everybody
who reported to him had been ordered to hold their post and
continue as if nothing had happened. Some of them did. The more
experienced men took a little dodge to the side to get out of the
immediate spotlight. Terry Kingston left the city entirely. He
could smell the operation before it was formed. He knew the moment
was on hand. Before the Olympics they had rounded up a lot of men
just to get them off the streets so there would be a smooth and
memorable event. This was not such a benign operation. The men were
being interrogated by teams for hours. Some of them talked but it
was all about old infractions, stuff that had been done years ago.
As hard as they squeezed, nobody knew where Henry Cuthbert had
gone.

“Welcome back, Terry. We haven't seen you
for quite a long time. Where have you been?”

“James, Billy, how have you been?”

“You know, not much happens out here in farm
country to get our attention. I imagine your life has been much
more interesting, living in the city.”

“Oh, not really. Orange is no teeming
metropolis, you know. I’ve just been taking care of the agency and
laying low. It’s good to get back to the farm.”

As was his habit, Terry had left the Holden
in Orange and taken the company van back to the farm. The two local
constables had seen the van in the driveway and stopped in to talk
for lack of anything better to do. Terry invited them in for a beer
but they declined, since they were on duty. They left quickly after
taking a couple of dozen eggs that Ginger insisted they accept.

Terry was quick to outline what had happened
since they had been in touch and Ginger listened intently. He had
not gotten a letter since they had last spoken and was concerned
about his nephew’s state of mind. Living a double life had tripped
up more than one man and unbalanced more than one mind. He approved
of the plan that Terry outlined for him, but it was laid out
according to Terry’s perspective and Ginger could not see the
entire layout. He was too far removed from it.

Jerry Junior stopped by the next day for a
chat and a beer. One beer let to another and soon enough Jerry
Junior and Terry were potted. As is so often done when men drink
together, plans were made. The two of them committed to hunting the
following day. Terry wanted to hunt his uncle’s land since he knew
it so well, but Junior was quick to tell him of the rabbit problem
that his father’s land was prone to. The fox population had been
taken care of but once the foxes were killed, the rabbits came back
in force. The two of them decided that they would hunt the Cuthbert
land instead. Junior told Terry about the American company he sold
the fox tails to. They supplied fly fishermen with various furs and
feathers so they could tie their own flies. Terry promised to bring
him some in the morning.