Free The First Assassin by John J. Miller Page A

see,” said Bennett, “it lists all of my property and deeds virtually the entire estate to Mr. Hughes.”
    “That is indeed what it says here.”
    “I am an old man,” said Bennett. “It is doubtful that I will survive more than a few years.” He handed his guest another document. “This is an unsigned codicil. It was drafted the day I received the letter saying you would come for a meeting. It amends the will you have just read to provide half of my property to a person who completes a certain unnamed task to my satisfaction. if I am still living, or of Mr. Hughes, if I am not.”
    The visitor looked it over. “This does leave matters a bit open-ended,” he said. “But I think we can work with it.”
    “I figure a man in your line of work has the ability to enforce legitimate contracts if others do not,” said Bennett.
    “You need not worry about it coming to that, however. We are men of honor. Mr. Hughes has every incentive to make good on our promise. He wants the result it will obtain as much as I do.”
    “Then perhaps this is settled,” said the guest.
    “You find our terms acceptable?”
    “I do.”
    “Excellent,” said Bennett. “Now, in terms of the planning—”
    The visitor interrupted. “I will plan everything myself. In fact, you will not hear from me again until I have completed the assignment. I will not tell you where I am going or how I will accomplish it. But it will be done, and it will be done in a timely manner.”
    “How will we keep track of you?” asked Hughes, speaking for the first time.
    “You won’t.”
    “We won’t?”
    “No. There is nothing you can provide me.”
    “That may not be true,” said Bennett. “I have a friend in Washington who may be of some assistance. She is an ally to our cause, and she has resources you may find helpful. I won’t insist on it, but I believe it would be a mistake not to make use of her.”
    “Who is she?”
    “Her name is Violet Grenier. She is near the center of the city’s social life. She knows many things about many people. Some call her the most persuasive woman ever to live in Washington. She will almost certainly have intelligence you will want to know.”
    The visitor said nothing. Bennett took this as a sign to continue.
    “I have taken the liberty of writing her a letter of introduction,” he said, handing an envelope to his guest. “I suggest you give it to her and see what she can do for you.”
    The visitor studied the envelope. It was sealed. He turned it over in his hands several times before looking up.
    “Very well,” he said at last. “I will consider making contact with this woman. In the meantime, I believe this concludes our business. You will know when I have succeeded. Sometime after that, you will see me again.”
    He stood up to leave, but Hughes stepped into his view. “This may sound strange, but who are you?”
    The visitor shot a look at Bennett.
    “It may be best that you not know more than you already do,” said Bennett.
    “What is your name?” Hughes persisted. “What if we need to contact you through Mrs. Grenier? How are we to do that? There must be some name that we can use.”
    The visitor glared at Hughes, and it made the young man feel small. Hughes could see a vein in the guest’s forehead throbbing. He was suddenly afraid of this man.
    “You need not answer him,” said Bennett.
    The guest did not move. Hughes felt himself withering. Then the guest smiled, though not in a kindly way. His eyes seemed to threaten.
    “You may call me,” he said, pausing briefly, and then speaking with a full Spanish trill, “Mazorca.”
     
     
    The sky was overcast as Mazorca stepped off the porch of the Bennett house. He was satisfied with the arrangements made inside. It was quite a bit of land. When he completed the job, he would gain a small fortune. Mazorca had every intention of collecting.
    He walked toward the water, where a few people strolled around the Battery. Off in the