Blindsight

The white mansion proved more difficult than the more modest stone house. The white mansion had several overlapping alarm systems that took Angelo some time to figure out as well as neutralize. It was a half hour before they broke out a whole sash in a window into a laundry room.

Angelo went in first to make sure there were no infrared detectors or lasers. When he determined the coast was clear, Tony climbed over the windowsill.

They stayed together and moved slowly through the kitchen, where they could hear a TV playing in a nearby room.

As carefully as possible they moved toward the sound. It was coming from a room off the front hall. Angelo went first and peered around the corner.

The room was a den with a wet bar built into one wall, a giant rear-projection TV in another. In front of the TV was a chintz-upholstered chesterfield. Asleep in the center of the couch was an enormously overweight man, dressed in a blue bathrobe. His stubby, surprisingly skinny legs stuck out from beneath the corpulent mass of his abdomen and were propped up on a hassock. On his feet were leather slippers.

Angelo pulled back to talk with Tony. “He’s asleep and alone. We’ll have to assume the wife, if there is one, is upstairs.”

“What are we going to do?” Tony questioned.

“You wanted to whack him,” Angelo said. “So go in and do it. Just do it right. Then we’ll check on the woman.”

Tony smiled and stepped beyond Angelo. His gun with the silencer in place was in his right hand.

Rounding the corner, Tony boldly strode into the den. He went directly up to the man on the couch. Pointing the gun at the man’s temple just above the ear, he purposefully bumped the man’s thigh with his leg.

The man sputtered as his heavily lidded eyes struggled up. “Gloria, dear?” he managed.

“No, honey, it’s me-Tony.”

The hissing thump knocked the man over onto his right side on the couch. Tony leaned over and placed the muzzle of his silencer at the base of the skull and fired again. The man didn’t move.

Tony straightened up and looked back at Angelo. Angelo waved for him to follow him. Together they went up the stairs. On the second floor they had to search through several rooms before finding Gloria. She was fast asleep with the lights on but with black eyeshades over her eyes and earplugs in her ears.

“Looks like she thinks she’s a movie star,” Tony said. “This is going to be a snap.”

“Let’s go,” Angelo said. He gave Tony’s arm a tug.

“Aw, come on,” Tony said. “She’s like a sitting duck.”

“I’m not going to argue,” Angelo snarled. “We’re getting out of here.”

Back in the car, Tony pouted while Angelo checked the fastest route to the next house. Angelo didn’t care how long Tony brooded. At least it kept him quiet.

The final house was a two-story row house with a metal awning forming a carport in front of the single-car garage. A small chain-link fence demarcated a postage-stamp-sized lawn that contained two pink flamingo statues.

“The man or the woman?” Tony asked, breaking his silence for the first time.

“The woman,” Angelo said. “And you can do her if you want.” He was feeling magnanimous with the evening’s work drawing to a close.

Breaking into the final house was a breeze. They did it from the alleyway, going through the back door. To their surprise they found the husband sleeping on the couch with an empty six-pack on the floor next to him.

Angelo told Tony to go upstairs by himself and that he’d keep his eye on the man. Angelo could see Tony’s eager smile in the half-light, and he thought the kid’s appetite for “whacking” was insatiable.

Several minutes later Angelo could barely hear the silenced report of Tony’s gun, followed quickly by another shot. At least the kid was thorough. A few minutes after that Tony reappeared.

“The guy move?” Tony asked.

Angelo shook his head and motioned for them to leave.

“Too bad,” Tony said. His eyes lingered a second on the sleeping man before he turned to follow Angelo out the door.

On the back stoop Angelo stretched and looked up at the brightening sky. “Here comes the sun,” he said. “How about some breakfast?”

“Sounds great,” Tony said. “What a night. It doesn’t get any better than this.” As he walked to the car he unscrewed his silencer from his gun.

7

7:45 a.m., Thursday

Manhattan

Although she hadn’t slept much thanks to her late-night call, Laurie made it a point to arrive at work a little early to compensate for having been late the day before. It was only seven forty-five as she mounted the steps to the medical examiner’s office.

Going directly to the ID office, she detected a mild electricity in the air. Several of the other associate medical examiners who usually didn’t come in until around eight-thirty were already on the job. Kevin Southgate and Arnold Besserman, two of the older examiners, were huddled around the coffeepot in heated debate. Kevin, a liberal, and Arnold, an arch-conservative, never agreed on anything.