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The two men’s gazes remained locked. Qui
The killer said, “I think I’ll save Fatso for last, then strike out for new methods and arousals.”
Turning to see the effects of his words on Castle, the killer instead stood shocked.
The paunchy, terrified man apparently hadn’t been as paralyzed as he’d appeared. He’d managed to escape silently into the garden’s hedge maze.
Qui
The killer had spent hours memorizing the maze from a high window across the street. But he wasn’t sure he would know the maze’s mysteries better than the man who’d possibly designed them.
Another possibility: Was Qui
Either way, he was surely free of the maze by now.
As if to confirm the killer’s thoughts, there were sounds of activity from out in the street, beyond the garden and maze.
Then, yes, the fat man’s voice. Almost surely.
The killer, his gaze and guns still fixed on Qui
Qui
Traffic beyond the garden. But not enough. So quiet . . .
The killer understood what the silence meant. Others who hunted him were arriving, arranging themselves strategically. Positioning and preparing.
But they wouldn’t be prepared quite yet. Wouldn’t be in place.
Opportunity. Limited, but exactly what the killer wanted.
Without warning, he sprinted to the hedge maze’s dark entrance.
Qui
Into blackness almost complete.
And isolation.
The only sound was the faint brushing of legs and shoulders against the hedges, both men moving fast, each knowing the other’s mind. It was like a dance where neither partner could see the other.
Both knew where the maze would lead.
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Qui
He could hear D.O.A. crashing along on the other side of the hedgerow to his right. It sounded as if the killer was directly opposite him, only five or six feet away. But Qui
Qui
But not so close as to chance taking a shot.
Luck. Good for me, bad for the killer. He’ll run out of hedgerows eventually.
Then Qui
But the killer didn’t seem to have gained ground.
Wrong. Something was wrong.
Qui
Short of breath, his legs and lungs aching, Qui
He wanted to be sure that Qui
The game that meant everything. Qui
Timing was so important.
Both men broke from the hedge maze at almost the same moment, simultaneous to an armada of police and emergency vehicles arriving at the scene. And there were plenty of news media representatives. Vans with tower aerials mounted on their roofs, media wolves already dismounted and on foot, units of camera and lighting professionals, and well-coifed media stars, all ru
The killer felt his heart swell. This was what he wanted, even better than he’d anticipated. Here was a drama that would dominate every news outlet, every Internet scan, and hold the population in thrall. The finale of the hunt, with the hunted and hunter locked in deadly combat.
Qui
Let the fools of the world think what they may. Qui
And the world will be watching.
Qui
The killer thought his bulletproof vest would keep him alive at least as long as Qui
Qui
The killer seemed invulnerable in his bulky vest. He was smiling as he leveled the Kalashnikov at Qui
That was when one of Qui
Still without a clear shot, the Tactical Unit held its fire.
Wounded in the same leg that had been shot years before, Qui
As Qui
Qui
The killer hesitated, savoring the moment.
Steadied his aim.
Pearl shot him.
The heavy Glock round slammed into the killer’s head, just behind his right ear.
As he lay dying, the killer stared up at the night sky and knew he’d be huge in tomorrow’s papers. Where he’d always wanted to be. Above the fold.
Qui