President's assassin

She was right, of course. Though it didn't really matter. I said, "So we're at the point where the HRT guys are crashing into the room, lusting for blood, you're right behind them… and you… Well, there sat the final loose end, poor Jason Barnes."

Je

I nodded.

"Thank you for pointing that out. They exonerate me. In fact, I'll suggest to my lawyer to make sure it's entered as evidence."

We stared at each other a moment. Clearly I was losing this battle of wits and wills. She knew it and I knew it. From that very first murder scene at Belknap's house, I now knew, Je

Recalling the look on her face at the instant before she blew Jason's brains out of his head, I was sure she toyed with the idea of popping us both. Had she thought she could fabricate an excuse, had she thought she could get away with it, I wouldn't be in this prison yard, I'd be a chalk outline. She was now settling that belated score by letting me know she was smarter than me, she would get away with these murders, she would win.

In fact, Je

"No… they never did."

"Nor can you prove that I met Clyde, or that I ever called him."

"There are no surviving witnesses."

"I've already offered perfectly plausible explanations for the evidence you have, haven't I?"

"Plausible enough."

She nodded. "You don't see the fatal problem with your fantasy, Sean?"

"Tell me."

"They never mentioned my name because I wasn't their source. There are no witnesses… there is no evidence, because it wasn't me." She sounded sincere, without a wrinkle of dishonesty on her face or even a hint of insincerity in her blue eyes. In fact she was so utterly convincing, no jury in the world would disbelieve her. She stepped toward me and took my hands. She smiled. "I'm afraid you're going to make a lousy witness."

"Am I?"

"Were you falling for me, Sean?"

I wasn't going to answer that.

Of course she already knew the answer. "Because you're obviously brokenhearted and embittered. You're allowing your hurt and anger to cloud your judgment."

"Is that right?"

"Look, it's time to be honest with yourself. You were a decent partner and mildly entertaining company, Sean. That's all there ever was. I'm sorry if you thought there was more." She squeezed my hand and added, "There wasn't."

"I know."

"I hope you do know." We stared at each other for a long moment. Endgame. She had gloated at her victory and was administering her coup de grace. She looked at me long enough to be sure I knew she had won before she glanced at her watch and said, "Oh my, look how the time flies. My exercise period starts in only two minutes. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all."

I turned and started to walk away. About ten feet from Je

She shrugged, a gesture of complete neutrality. Yet, given the nature of the question, anything but neutral. In that moment Je

I informed her, "Not killing me was the one mistake you made."

"And why would that be, Sean?"

"Because yesterday I remembered something. The Bureau was so focused on the killings up here, it's the one thing they… actually, the one lead we all overlooked."

Though she clearly knew this was not going to be good news, she did not bat an eye. "Go on."

"I asked Eric Ta

"Found what?"

"Knowing Clyde, as you surely do, he had a great fondness for weapons. Apparently, the idea of discarding one-even one he used for murder-It was simply too much for him. A military surplus M14 rifle with a long-range scope was found behind that wall. The ballistics match with the bullet that killed John Fisk was made this morning."

For the briefest instant, Je

Also, Je

The matrons appeared confused and looked to Larry for guidance. He signaled with his arm for them to release her.

Then Je

I knew Je

I was certain they were wrong. And I was certain it no longer mattered.

I watched the door close behind her.

Larry watched, too, then said to me, "Great job, Drummond. You really rattled her."

"But she never confessed," I pointed out.

"She didn't have to. The rifle is the prybar. We'd get it out of her."

Since I was sure he was wrong, I offered no reply.

He looked at me and said, "You okay?"

"No. I'm not."

"Forget about her. She was bad news, Drummond."

"She was beyond bad news, Larry." After a moment I asked him, "What's your best federal prison?"

"I don't… Well, I guess… probably Leavenworth."

"Put her there. Give Je

"If she ever did, I wouldn't want to be you."

I did not respond because Larry's observation required no response.

The kiss-it is the most universal gesture and, thereby, easily the most misread. In America it signifies affection, or lust, or even love, whereas in other cultures, and in other societies, its meaning can stretch from a modest greeting to a fraternal gesture, to a mark of revenge or even a promise of death.

Je