Free Revenge of the Assassin (Assassin Series 2) by Russell Blake Page A

over Gustavo.
    “Isn’t he ex-military?” Starone countered.
    “Mmm, I don’t think so. He’s an economist. Economic reforms are the basis of his government, and he pissed-off a lot of the country’s creditors when he declared the national debt invalid due to having been accrued due to corruption. Argentina could learn from that and take a page from his playbook,” Antonio fired back.
    Apparently satisfied, Starone closed his little book and gave a smile that was more a grimace. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your friend, Gustavo? The reason I ask is because in our routine discussions with the neighbors this morning, one thought she saw a younger man with longish hair. Very much like yours. Do you know anyone like that?” Starone delivered the body blow with quiet sincerity.
    Antonio’s mind raced, but he didn’t even blink. The cop was probably bluffing, doing some fishing, otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything. He was almost sure of it. Almost.
    “Everyone seemed to like him, but as I said, I didn’t know him beyond playing some chess a few times a month. But I hope you get the bastard who killed him. Too bad this haircut is so popular – that description only narrows it down to a third of the males in Mendoza. But if I think of anything, I will absolutely give you a call. Do you have a card?” he replied.
    The detective’s eyes narrowed, just a little, and he fished a business card out of his pocket and put it on the counter as he looked around the small shop. “What do you sell the most of?” he asked conversationally.
    “The steak knives are very popular, as well as the leather goods. But it’s a tough time of year. Nothing’s moving as much as I’d like,” Antonio lamented.
    “Well, you’re not alone in that. Please do call if you think of anything.” Starone appraised him. “Have a nice day.”
    The two policemen shuffled to the door and disappeared into the fray. Antonio considered the discussion and felt a tingle of alarm. He didn’t think the taller detective had bought his story, or rather, the cop seemed to sense something off about him. That might have been stylistic – a technique to make potential suspects squirm – but it hadn’t had any visible effect on ‘Antonio’. Still, a small part of him elevated his threat level assessment up a notch. He hadn’t anticipated a visit in Gustavo’s killing. That was stupid, and lazy.
    His brief days of relaxed, worry-free existence were officially over, all thanks to the meddling old man. It wasn’t a crisis yet, but if they really did have a witness, it could be difficult. He hadn’t worn his glasses that night, and his clothes had been unremarkable, but it was an unknown, and he didn’t like unknowns.
    Perhaps it was time to move on to somewhere even more remote than Mendoza. A pity, but things changed, and a smart man changed with them.
     

Chapter 6
     
     
    When El Rey closed up that night he took his laptop with him in its shoulder bag, along with a few items from the store that might come in handy. He wasn’t sure he’d ever see it again; he was back to his old self now, no longer Antonio – and El Rey always expected the worst, and planned for it.
    Reality was that he’d been borderline delusional believing he could ever live normally – whatever that meant. Like a shark, he needed to keep moving, or he’d die. There was no point in wasting any time wishing things were different – his life to date had been extraordinary, and he’d just need to continue down whatever path he found himself on. Gustavo had set a course in motion, and he’d reacted in the only way that made sense – he’d neutralized the threat. Now the police were sniffing around, and while there probably wasn’t anything to worry about, probably wasn’t good enough. Probably got you caught, or killed. Probably was for others.
    As El Rey pulled down the steel grid security door he surreptitiously scanned his surroundings. He