Diary of an Assassin (17 page)

CHAPTER
45

Henri stood at the side of the road under the harsh light of the moon. He had his hands in the pockets of his jacket and could faintly see his own breath in the cold. Cars passed by and he watched them for a while before taking out his cell phone and opening a flashlight app. He scanned the ground when no cars were coming, the white light illuminating some marks. He looked at the landmarks around him, a billboard for a diet cola and a barn about thirty meters off the freeway, to make sure he was in the right place.

He bent down over the skid marks and snapped a couple of photos. They were in a long trail that snaked to the left and to the right. The car had
stopped abruptly. He stood by and watched a few more cars before getting into his rental and driving away.

The address he’d been given was a
fifteen-minute drive away. She had nearly been home. Henri drove through the winding streets and was impressed by how easy the address system was. Considering that in Paris sometimes all one had was the name of a street.

He parked at the curb in front of the little house and got out. A breeze was blowing now and it made the leaves of the trees around him shimmer under the moonlight
and clatter like a straw broom scraping over cement. He crossed the sidewalk and the grass to the porch. It was just past ten o’clock and he could hear music coming from inside. He knocked and took a step back before pulling out his badge.

A young
woman with short brunette hair and a red sweater answered. He showed her the badge, smiled, and said, “I’m looking for Billie Gell.”

“She’s not here. May I ask what this is about?”

“We believe she may have been the victim of a car…comment peut-on dire…a car theft.”

“Oh, wow. Her car got stolen?”

“Yes. Has she called you tonight?”

“No. I can call her
, though, hold on.” The girl went over to a table and snatched her cell phone. She dialed a number and then held it to her ear. After several seconds, she said, “It went to voicemail.”

He nodded. “Do you have a picture of Billie here?”

“Um, yeah, I think she’s got some in her room. You wanna look?”

“Please.” She let him in
. “Thank you.”

“Her room’s right over there.”

“Again, thank you.”

Henri walked on the hardwood floors to the small bedroom the girl had pointed to. He flipped on the light. The room was carpeted in
a white rug that had several noticeable stains. It smelled of incense and he saw a burner on the windowsill. The bed was messy and several posters were up on the walls. A small bookshelf hunkered in the corner. Henri walked to it, quickly glancing through the books: mostly classics. Very few contemporary works. He saw a bong on one of the shelves and next to that a glass pipe.

A
little shelf was bolted over the bed. It was cluttered but the item he was interested in was the photo. It was of a young girl and a man about her age. They were on a mountaintop and it appeared like they had taken the photo themselves on a phone. Henri took the picture and went out into the living room where he saw two girls and two young men sitting on the couch. They smiled but didn’t say anything and he could smell the scent of burnt marijuana.

“Is this her?”

“Yeah,” the brunette said.

“I’m going to take this with me for right now. I will return it when we find her.”

“Okay, that’s fine.”

“Thank you for your help.”

Henri showed himself out and stood on the porch for several seconds, staring at the photo. He tapped the photo against his palm and then walked back to his car.

CHAPTER 46

Billie was woken by the sound of the door opening. The man stepped over her and urinated into the toilet. She felt droplets hit her face and she recoil
ed. When he was done, he bent down and untied her. She slipped off the gag, not saying a word, as he walked out into the room.

“We’re leaving. Wash your face.”

She did as she was told, pulling her hair back and holding it in place with a rubber band she had in her pocket. He took her arm like he had done yesterday and led her out of the room and down the hallway. She could see breakfast being served and she said, “I’m hungry.”

He stopped and looked at her. Though it terrified her to her core, she didn’t avert his gaze. He led her into the small dining area and sat her down. He
fetched cereal, a bagel, orange juice, and some scrambled eggs before coming back and taking a seat.

“I don’t have a fork,” she said.

He rose without a word and got one for her. She thought about sprinting away, but something held her back. A feeling. She felt like this man would shoot her in front of as many witnesses as there happened to be around.

She began to eat. Though she wasn’t
actually hungry, she didn’t want to leave with him and so she feigned gusto as she shoved eggs in her mouth and drank down the juice.

“Your accent
’s French, right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you from France?”

“No.”

“Where are you from?” she said with a mouthful of bagel.

“I’m from Corsica.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s an island, off the coast of Italy.”

“I thought you said you were French?”

“It is a French island.”

“What’s it like?”

He leaned back in his chair and glanced around. “It is the most beautiful place in the world. The water is as blue as crystal and the weather is always sunny and warm.”

“Do you have family there?”

“I think that is enough questions for now. Let’s go.”

“I’m not done.”

“Yes you are.”

He took her arm and led her out of the motel and through the parking lot. They got to the car before she tried to pull away.

“I’m not going,” she said.

He brought her close and without her even seeing him pull it out, she felt the pistol against her side.

“If I fire a single shot into your liver
, you will die. No amount of surgery can save you.”

“Why are you doing this?” she said, panic in her voice. “Just let me go.”

He opened the passenger side door and shoved her in. She opened the door as soon as he went around to the driver’s side, and he ran back, pushing her into the backseat as he climbed into the driver’s seat and locked the doors.

“Please,” she said, crying now, “just let me go.”

He pulled out of the stall and onto the road, melting into the traffic.

CHAPTER 47

Vanessa ran on the treadmill until she nearly collapsed. The gym was empty this early in the morning and she had requested they turn off every television in order to hear only the hammering of her feet against the machine.

When she was through, she toweled off and drank water out of a neon green bottle
. She headed for the locker room. Not one to even consider showering in public, she gathered her things and left the gym.

The clouds had cleared and the sun was out, the sky a light blue. She flipped on her sunglasses before walking down the sidewalk when she noticed somebody leaned against the glass
doors of a coffee shop entrance.

“Henri, what a pleasant surprise.”

“You know, my grandfather used to say that working out is like masturbation.”

“Okay, so now you’ve grossed me out. What is it I can do for you?”

“We need to talk. Can I buy you a coffee?”

“No, but you can buy me a nonfat latte.”

He nodded and held the door open for her. Inside was busy and they took a table by the windows after standing in line and placing their orders. Henri got a muffin and a small coffee, which he stirred with a spoon he had in a little carrying case in his pocket.

“You carry your own spoon?” she asked.

“I worked as a dishwasher in many restaurants. I don’t trust restaurants as a consequence.”

“From dishwasher to Interpol detective. That’s gotta be an interesting story.”

“Not really.” He took a sip of the coffee. “I haven’t seen you since the United Nations conference. You look the same. Some people, time does not affect.”

“I try. How’s Collette?”

“Good. She wanted me to say hello if I happened to see you. I don’t know why she would think that. She just heard I was coming to America and you are the only American she knows.”

“She’s sweet. Too young and pretty for you, old man, but sweet.”

He grinned. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky. What about you? No marriage plans?”

“Nothing yet,” she said. “M
y work sees to that.”

He nodded. “Perhaps you should find different work.”

“No, I love what I do.”

“You’re an idealist.”

“You’re not?”

He took another sip of coffee. “I was
in Mexico once, following a heroin ring that had set up their shop in Bordeaux of all places. They were going to use it as a distribution center for all of Europe. I followed them to Mexico and tracked down the man I was looking for, the kingpin I guess you would call him. It took ten Interpol agents and the Mexican army to bring him down, but we did. He was charged with fifty-two counts of murder and hundreds of counts of narcotics and arms smuggling, human trafficking…the list went on and on.”

“That had to have been a good bust. What happened?”

“He was released in one day. I didn’t have enough power to hold him for even twenty-four hours. Interpol said he was working as an informant and let him go, but that was bullshit. The Mexican government collects taxes from the drug lords. They don’t want drugs to stop and they don’t want them to be legal. They make too much money. Too many people with their hands in the purse. So they put pressure on Interpol.” He took a bite of his muffin and then pushed it away. “I’ve never chased anyone overseas since that day. Until now.”

She was silent a moment. “I know what you’re going to say and it’s taken care of.”

“He killed four people and kidnapped a young woman. Two of them were just bystanders, people that had nothing to do with anything. Did you know that?”

“Not
about the kidnapping, no.”

He nodded.
“I know everything about Starlight and about your little projects. Don’t forget that our two countries began the project.”

“I haven’t forgotten and I haven’t forgotten your role in that either.” Vanessa was accusing him of something but didn’t know what. She had been involved with Starlight after its formation but Henri had helped form it as a liaison with the
Central Directorate of Interior Intelligence in France. By right, it was more his than hers.

“I know,” he said. “I am just as responsible for this abomination as you are. But you were not there when we found
ed it. It was meant as a counter-terrorism agency. One that would work outside of each nation’s laws and chase terrorists and war criminals down wherever they were. We were so patriotic then. We thought we had found the solution to the world’s problems, and instead we created a Frankenstein.”

“Frankenstein? Excuse me? Do you have any idea how much evil has been taken out of the world by this one organization? We have, what, about fifty employees and we do more good than any agency in the world.”

“Hm, you would be surprised how your perspective will change with age. It is a monster, and we are all responsible. But we’re not paying for it. These poor bastards caught in the middle are.”

“I already told you, it’s taken care of.”

“I deal with people lying to me all day, Vanessa. I can smell bullshit.”

She folded her arms. “Well what do you want to hear?”

“Why did you release him?”

“I needed the best and he’s the best.”

“He was taken out of rotation for a reason. Do you know why he was in La Santé? Did you bother to ask?”

“Enlighten me.”

“He was in a bar fight. A simple bar fight. A man gently bumped into his arm. Witnesses told me he apologized. Before the apology was out of his mouth, Gustav was on top of him. He bit off his nose and his lips, pulling out one of his eyes before the patrons tackled him from behind. It took seven men to hold him down until police arrived. He is severely unstable, and you released him, gave him weapons and money…”

“And I told you it was taken care of.”

“How? By sending another psychopath after him? That is a fool’s plan.”

“What would you suggest?”

“Help me find him.”

“You?” she said with a chuckle. “You’re too old, Henri. And you were never that good at this.”

“I was his commanding officer at DIIF. I may still be able to speak to him. But I may not, I don’t know. You know it used to be that our biggest concerns were the communists. I miss the communists. They were one enemy that we could focus on and try to understand. And they weren’t that difficult to understand. But now…I don’t know. I had to arrest a twelve-year-old boy last year for murdering his parents. They grounded him and he stabbed them to death in their sleep. He made his younger siblings clean up the blood. That type of thing didn’t exist when I was younger.”

“Or maybe it did and you weren’t paying attention.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

She exhaled. “I’ll help you find him.”

He nodded. “I think I know where he will go, but it might be too late for that girl by the time I get there.”

“Where’s he going?”

“There’s a place in Algeria. It holds a lot of memories for him. And for me. I don’t believe he will attempt to take this girl on the plane with him. He will kill her first.” He glanced around the coffee shop and then back to her. “Can the Messenger help us?”

She shook her head. “I’m not his favorite person right now.” She leaned forward on her elbows. “Do you know who he is, Henri? I’ve never asked you.”

“Yes, I know who he is. He was there at the beginning.”

“Why don’t you ask him for help yourself then?”

“I think you should come with me.”

“Why?”

“He and I…have a, what is it you Americans say? A checker’s past?”

“Checkered past. Yeah. Okay, let me go home and take a shower. I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”

As she left, excitement tingled her belly: she was going to meet the Messenger. Out of her entire organization, only two people ever met him face-to-face. She wondered briefly if seeing who he was would be a good thing or a bad…