A Reason to Kill

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Authors: Michael Kerr
it was his idea in the first place.”
    “This shooter should be easy to find,” Matt said, not wanting to waste time discussing a superintendent who he thought was little more than dead weight. “We have every reason to believe he’s local. And he self mutilates. This is a head case that may have a history of mental illness, a criminal record, or both.”
    Tom agreed. “I’ll have a couple of the squad run what we’ve got through the computer. His face might come up. Even if it doesn’t, someone out there will recognise him when this hits the front pages. And the scarred wrists will confirm his ID to anyone who knows him.”
    Matt frowned. “We could scare him off, Tom. He isn’t stupid. When the media run with this, he’ll more than likely go to ground. He’s a pro, which means he’ll have made contingency plans for if ever the shit hits his personal fan.”
    “Maybe not. If he’s a nutter, being caught might not be something he would ever contemplate.”
    “He’s sharp, Tom. This was a well-planned hit. If Santini uses him, then he must come highly recommended with a good track record. Ballistics should be able to run a check on the slugs. He may have used the same handgun before.”
    “I’ll see if they can find a match. Although that won’t help us nail him. Do you think he might have altered his appearance? You know, worn contact lenses and stuff.”
    “No. He didn’t plan on anybody being left alive to finger him.”
    “What do you suggest?”
    “Get Dick Curtis to work up another sketch with Penny. She said he had receding hair. That’ll make a difference. Then hold it back while we show it around on the street. We want this guy feeling safe, Tom. He can help us bury Santini.”
    “Santini might not even know who he is.”
    “No, but the shooter will know who he’s capping people for.”
    Tom lifted his cup, found it empty, got up and went to get them both a refill.
    While Tom queued behind a group of nurses, Matt reviewed what they had. It was known what the killer looked like, and that he had distinguishing marks in the form of scars on both of his wrists. He was most likely based in the London area, and may have done time, or received treatment for mental illness. They had leads to follow and every chance of coming up with a name.
    “There you go,” Tom said, placing a fresh brew in front of Matt. “I’m beginning to feel like a bloody manservant. The sooner you get that pot off your leg, the happier I’ll be.”
    “You and me both,” Matt said. “And Tom, don’t mention the sketches to McClane. Let’s keep that card close to our chests. With a little luck, we can cold-cock the bastard and lift him like a sleeping baby.”
    “I don’t like it, Matt. If we don’t splash his face all over the tabloids, you and Penny Page are still loose ends.”
    “I know. I’ll be ready for him. But you’ll have to put Penny under tighter wraps. Move her and the baby, and don’t even let her parents know where she is.”
    “She might not go for it.”
    “She will. Did you see the look on her face when you showed her the sketch? She’ll do anything to guarantee not meeting up with this flake again.”
    “We can’t give her any guarantees, Matt. I’ll put the description on hold for another forty-eight hours. But if we’re still drawing a blank, it goes out.”
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER NINE

 
    SHE couldn’t wait. The next scheduled meeting was only days away, but she wanted to be with him. Every hour was an eternity, and her resolve to take it softly-softly went by the board. Just the thought of them fucking was driving her crazy. She had been able to somehow suppress the built-up frustration that had been like a mild itch; one that she had been able to relieve herself of when need be. But now it was as if an internal dam had overflowed and could not be held back. She had picked up the phone three times and put it back down, but was only fending off the inevitable and torturing

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