Messenger of Death by Alex Markman Read Free Book Online Page A

had never eaten anything
that tasty. The promised pay for his service added a sense of good
life to the conversation. Marcel picked up the napkin from his lap
and dabbed his lips. Claude swallowed, took his napkin in his fist,
and did the same.
    “Good,” said
Marcel. He did not specify to what he was referring: Claude’s
improving manners or his acceptance of the pay.
    “Do you have a
gun?” Marcel gave him an inquisitive look.
    “Not yet. But I
have someone who will sell one to me. No sweat.”
    “Don’t worry
about that. My people will give you a good one. You need a gun that
never fails.”
    “Cool.”
    “Now. When you
go, dress in a jogging suit. This way, nobody will recognize you by
your clothes. Take a ski mask with you. Do not put it on until you
decide to shoot. Nobody will remember your looks before the mask is
on. Clear?”
    “I know that
much,” grumbled Claude.
    “Of course. But
I want to make sure we are thinking alike. Drop the gun right after
the shoot. Remember to stick to the major rules. The most important
one is not to kill bystanders. We’ve had enough bad publicity
lately. Another one with innocent victims and all the newspapers
will scream and yell. Some bloody journalists are always on the
lookout for something resembling Hollywood-style murder.”
    “I know,”
agreed Claude. The thought of being such a hero made him smile.
    “Try to make it
quick, in a matter of seconds. Remember, if you do get caught, do
not even think about selling me out to the police.”
    “What are you
talking about?” Claude interrupted indignantly. He exchanged
menacing glances with Marcel. He did not give a shit for any
authority when his own reputation was questioned.
    “Devil’s
Knights will haunt you for the rest of your days,” Marcel said,
dismissing Claude’s reaction. “And I don’t think I need to mention
what would happen when they found you.”
    He paused.
Claude stopped chewing and stared at Marcel as if he wanted to hit
him.
    “Who are you
taking me for?” he asked, about to explode in a filthy outburst of
rage, but Marcel raised his hand as a warning sign.
    “Okay, okay. I
have to tell you that, you know. Don’t take it too personally.
Let’s get back to business. People arranging the deal will be in
contact with you over a pager. They will let you know when these
two are in the restaurant. All other planning, as well as execution
of the hit, will be up to you. I do trust you.”
    “I don’t have a
pager.”
    “I know. We
will provide you with one tomorrow.”
    “I like it.”
Claude uttered a short laugh, returning to a good mood. “Will do.
But would you promote me after that?”
    “Oh, yes,”
agreed Marcel hurriedly, as if he had forgotten an important thing.
“Sure. I’ll propose to give you ‘hangaround’ status. You are a good
chap. I like you.”
    Claude leaned
back in his chair and relaxed. He was pleased. This was a happy day
in his life. The leader of the Devil’s Knights had treated him to
lunch in the fanciest restaurant, talking to him like an equal.
Money, the most desirable thing in his life, would soon be in
abundance. And, also soon, maybe very soon, he would become a full
member of the Devil’s Knights motorcycle club.
     
    VI
     
    “I can’t
believe it,” Claude shouted, shifting his eyes from the sleek Honda
Civic to his friend’s smiling face. “This is jus’ three grand? Are
you sure, old buddy, that this is a clean car?”
    “I told you, I
know how to buy wheels.” Hans pointed his finger, like a barrel of
a gun, at Claude. He was swelling with pride. “The car is clean,
don’t you worry.”
    “Now we’ll make
tons of money,” Claude assured him, his eyes on the car. “Let’s
drive!”
    “When can you
give me the money for it?” Hans asked, taking the passenger
seat.
    “Right now. But
you have to help me, Hans.” Claude let the car leap forward, as if
they were on a racing track.
    “Cool down,”
Hans grumbled.
    “Will you