Fifth Ave 02 - Running of the Bulls by Christopher Smith Read Free Book Online

"You're not from the Times and you were never nominated for a Pulitzer.   I checked."   He folded his arms.   "Suppose you tell me what you want from me.   Suppose you tell me why you deliberately lied to me this morning and asked for this interview."
    It was exactly what Spocatti feared.  
    Carmen was searching for an answer when she noticed, on the sleeve of Hayes' maroon and white striped shirt, a tiny pinpoint of red light.   As she watched, the light moved up Hayes' arm to his shoulder, hesitating at the base of his neck before curling around his chin and stopping to dance on his right temple.   Spocatti , she thought.
    "Answer me," Hayes said.   "Tell me what you're doing here."
    The laser beam flashed across Hayes' face in a brilliant streak of scarlet.   Thrilled, Carmen watched it disappear into the man's hairline before darting out and appearing in the center of his forehead.   There, it wavered like a flame.  
    "Do you always betray your best friends, Mr. Hayes?"
    Hayes, who had been expecting an answer to his own question, looked at her as if he didn't understand.  
    Carmen opened her jacket, reached inside for her gun and stood.   She pointed it at him.   "Wolfhagen was one of your closest friends and you betrayed him," she said.   "You told all his secrets in court, you sent him to prison for three years and you've never regretted it.   Did you really think he’d let you get away with it forever?"
    Hayes straightened in his chair and stared at the gun.   He seemed neither frightened nor surprised.   "What do you think you're doing?"
    Carmen came around his desk and motioned for him to stand.
    But Hayes made no effort to rise.   He was twice her size and he knew it.
    "On your feet," she said firmly.  
    But Hayes didn't move.   He continued looking at the gun, his eyes narrowing, doubting she would shoot.   Carmen cocked the trigger and pressed the cool metal barrel hard against his temple.   "Move," she said.   "Or I'll blow your fucking head off."
    Hayes pushed back his chair and stood, rising to his full height of six feet four inches.   He was just drunk enough to believe he was invincible.   He looked down at her and said,   "You think you can come in here and threaten me?   You think you can intimidate me with a gun?"   His voice rose in anger.   "Your face is on every video camera in this building.   Touch me and your ass will be in jail for the rest of your life."
    Carmen leaned back against the edge of his desk.   Beside her was a heavy marble paperweight the size of a baseball.   She put her hand over it and said, "Mr. Hayes, I’ve killed drug lords, politicians and religious leaders.   I helped murder the Coles and Mark Andrews.   I’ve been doing this for seven years without fear or interruption.   Surely, I can do the same to an old man like you and get away with it."  
    She swung her arm around and threw the paperweight against the side of his head.   The blow took Hayes by surprise and he collapsed to the floor, his left temple crushed, his body jerking as though he had been electrocuted.   Blood vomited from his mouth in a brilliant fan of crimson.   His eyelids fluttered.   A sound came from his mouth that wasn't human.
    Carmen holstered the gun, stepped over his body and was happy to note that the building was so old, the windows opened.   And so she opened one.   The air was warm and humid and smelled faintly of salt.   She looked out but saw no traffic on Wall Street.   At night, lower Manhattan became a ghost town.
    She glanced over at the building facing her and saw only the cleaning woman pushing her vacuum, oblivious to the murder next door.
    But Carmen knew Spocatti was watching.
    She turned to Hayes and was startled to find him on his knees.   His mouth was open and working, dripping blood and saliva on the gleaming hardwood floor.   His eyes were bulging and he was breathing heavily.   The gurgling in his chest was growing deeper.   His