Forty-seven
Orville Kahl stood before the largest residential
picture window in the nation and heard the crackling echo of an explosion
in the valley. The illegal weaponry hadn't come cheap, but the rumble
brought a smile to his thin lips. It hadn't occurred to him to ride with
the helicopter and perhaps even fire one of the air-to-ground missiles
himself. He regretted the oversight.
Black smoke drifted into the pristine summer sky.
Behind him, the click of Silverstone's heels echoed in the quiet room and
broke his concentration. He had ordered the servant to install the metal
tips to his toes and heel to avoid being startled by an unexpected
approach.
"Callavier is here to see you, sir."
"Show him in."
The clicking of Silverstone's heel receded.
Callavier's longer stride could be heard, stopping just inside the den
behind him.
"Yakamura is on his way, sir."
Kahl closed his eyes and rode out a moment of
grinding anxiety. Yakamura was the lethal arm of the particular group of
the Japanese Yakuza he was dealing with. "Did you tell him that we have
the situation under control?"
"They know the situation is not under control.
Yakamura's spies have told him as much."
"It's that madman John Hartman. I thought I told you
to kill him."
"Sir, we're trying our damnedest to kill the
bastard. The man won't hold still for a clean shot."
"Lucas Chambers assured me that he would have the job
finished by dawn this morning."
"Lucas Chambers made some kind of deal with Hartman.
He and Neal Blackburn are gone."
"Bastards."
"Yes, sir, indeed."
"Do you know what happens if Yakamura is dissatisfied
with our security performance, Mr. Callavier?"
"Yes, sir, I do," Callavier said quietly. "If we
don't live up to expectations, we're fucked."
Kahl sighed. Maybe the man did understand after
all. "Can you complete your operation to my satisfaction by the time
Yakamura arrives?"
"Sir, we've got Hartman surrounded and we're
squeezing our perimeter. It's going to cost us, but he can't get out.
It's not humanly possible."
"It wasn't humanly possible for John Hartman to have
defeated our security and gain access to my very home. He could have
killed me."
"Yes, sir."
Kahl gritted his teeth. "Kill him before Yakamura
arrives. When you do, I want to see his corpse after Yakamura leaves.
During Yakamura's visit, I want the grounds quiet, and I want to see no
visible evidence of any of the problems we've been having."
"Yes, sir."
"One more thing." Kahl turned to face the man. "I
don't think Sheriff Gene Packerson has cooperated with us. If we are
forced to defend ourselves within the legal system, the sheriff may prove
a nuisance. He knows too much. I want him eliminated."
"That's not at all advisable at this time," Callavier
said in a firm tone of voice.
"I didn't ask for your evaluation of my directive. I
told you what I want done."
Callavier hesitated before responding. "Yes, sir."
"Have you found Kiki?"
"No, sir. She hasn't been seen."
"Has she escaped? Did John Hartman abduct her while
he was on the premises?"
"She was seen here in the house following that
incident, sir. She disappeared shortly thereafter."
"She could not have just got up and walked out," Kahl
said in growing anger.
"Sir, Kiki was seriously messed over. She didn't go
anywhere on her own."
"You may leave," Kahl said irritably. The boots
Callavier wore invariably left black marks on his white tile.
He had gone a little too far. He had left bruises on
Kiki's body and he left a little too much heroin on hand for Kiki to use
to dull the discomfort. It had cost ten thousand dollars to fly in his
own doctor from Portland. The doctor had spoken of suppressed
respiration, oxygen depletion, and probably neurological damage. He had
arranged to have her spirited off in the middle of the night for a quiet
disappearance. Two of his guards had offered to perform the service free
of charge, just for the fun of it.
He couldn't afford to have her show up in Eagle
Junction to be pointing an accusing finger. Now she was gone and he
couldn't imagine how she had gotten away.
He paced the length of the window and back. The
earth for as far as he could see belonged to him. He would build a city
in the valley. He didn't like the idea of sharing his domain with
foreigners, but they would bring their endless supply of money with them.
He would sit upon their throne and feign respectability.
He caught a glimpse of bright red from the corner of
his eye.
"Kiki?"
He roared. "Kiki! Come here this instant!"
He rushed from the den and down a connecting hall to
the bedrooms wild with worry. Things had been slipping away from his
control of late. The child of his own flesh and blood had been taken from
him. The humiliation was more than he could bear. And then Hartman had
attacked him almost before he had prepared his defenses. He should never
have used Jacqueline as an excuse to go after the man. There had been
quieter, subtler means to that end. They should have been employed years
ago.
And now even Kiki had turned against him.
He yanked open the door to Kiki's palatial bedroom.
He scanned the room from left to right. Nothing moved.
"Kiki. I saw you, woman. You can't hide from me."
Something stirred beneath the covers of her bed.
Kahl let a cold smile turn the corners of his thin lips. Shapely pink body
parts peeked from beneath the bed cowers.
Kiki was trying to hide from him.
Kahl stepped inside the room and closed the door
behind him. Tension had built to unbearable levels during the course of
the day. Kiki was good at dissipating tension. It was her specialty. It
was, in fact, her only purpose in life.
Kahl approached the bed in a crouch, prepared to
spring should she try to evade him. "Come out, come out, wherever you
are. Naughty little girl. Orville spanks naughty little girls until they
scream."
He reached for a corner of the bedspread and sheet
and threw it aside in a flourish.
A putrid odor struck him with almost physical
impact. The deafening drone of ten thousand flies burst forth. The rotting corpse sprawled naked upon Kiki's bed writhed with the
blind energy of a million maggots infesting the moist caverns of
decomposing flesh. They churned in glistening masses where tissue had
ruptured. They boiled in eye sockets and dribbled from ears, nostrils and
quivering lips.
It was not Kiki. Rather, it was Audrey, his wife,
all two-hundred and fifty putrefying pounds of her.
The fabric of Orville Kahl sanity tore in that
instant. He shrieked. He turned to flee for his life. His soul,
however, had already been lost.
Ten-year-old Jackie Kahl blocked his way. "You told
me my mother didn't like me any more!" she screamed. "You said I was a
stupid, ugly child just like her. But you lied! You killed her!"
His daughter vanished as suddenly as she had
appeared.
"Sir? Is there something wrong?"
Only his eyes dared move. He glanced at Silverstone
standing in the door. Silverstone's gaze did not waver. Was he blind?
Slowly, Kahl looked around and saw nothing in Kiki's bed but undisturbed
bedclothing and two pillows.
"Where did she go?" he said, his voice roughened by
the violence of his scream.
"Where did who go, sir?"
"Kiki. I saw Kiki come in here."
"Sir, she's not in the house, I'm certain. I've seen
nothing of her."
"I just saw her!"
"Yes, sir. I heard you talking to someone."
Silverstone looked about the empty room in growing confusion.
"Get out of here."
Silverstone bowed respectfully and backed from the
room.
The stench hit him a second time, and the vibrant
whine of the flies. Kahl's guts convulsed. He spewed vomit two yards
across the rug and clutched at his knotted stomach.
"You killed my mommy!"
Jackie Kahl screamed in a rage from hell itself. And
then the room was again empty.
