Redemption by Richard Stephenson Read Free Book Online Page A

meal.  Regardless of the timeline, all had been done with an efficiency that guaranteed Charles would not be pursued by either the authorities or interested parties seeking revenge.  The world Charles operated in no longer had a criminal justice system that demanded prosecution for his crimes so that concern didn’t cross his mind.  Had he not planned for every contingency, Charles would have been concerned that the dead man’s partner and lover, Frank, would find out about Willie’s demise and come after him.  The assassin never left the slightest detail up to chance.  Frank would be disposed of before he knew what had happened to Willie.  Charles would deal with the final loose end in short time.
    Any rational person standing over their own murder victim would be alarmed by a knock at the door.  Charles was not.  He was not expecting a visitor but was not surprised by one either.   The old man took a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned Willie’s blood from his hands and forearms.  The odds of having to defend himself from the person behind the door were quite low in Charles’ assessment, but as always, every contingency must be planned for.
    The door was cracked ever so slightly.  The bartender was standing in the hall.  He looked over Charles’ shoulder and saw Willie on the floor.  “Holy shit, you really killed him, I can’t believe it.”
    “Let’s not discuss this in the hall.  Please, come in.”
    The bartender took a few steps into the room and looked at the body.  He gasped and brought his hand to his mouth.  “That’s so disgusting.”
    “I envy you, sir; I’ve been doing this far too long.  This sort of thing does not bother me in the slightest.”
    The bartender was disturbed by the old man’s honesty.  Only a psychopath could stab someone to death and feel nothing.  Such a statement made him fear for his own safety.  He nervously looked toward the door and thought about darting out.
    “Relax, Mr. Curry.”
    “What?  I’m, uh, I’m fine.”
    “You were just thinking that I might decide to kill you.”
    “Me?  Naw, I wasn’t thinking that.”
    “Yes you were.  I wouldn’t be proficient in my line of work if I couldn’t read human behavior.  It’s really quite easy, anyone can do it.  All one has to do is pay attention to the little things.  The human body will always betray what the mind is thinking.  I’ve become so talented at it I find most people can be read like a book.”
    The bartender laughed nervously, hoping to ease the tension. “You must make a fortune playing poker.”
    “Let’s just say I prefer the stakes to be much higher than money.  More fun that way.  You ever play a game with stakes that high?”  The smile left Charles’ face and he glared at the bartender with malice.
    The tension in the room was not eased in the slightest.  The bartender was now certain he would join Willie on the floor.  Charles pursed his lips and locked eyes with Mr. Curry.  The assassin found that direct confrontation resulted in a man’s true colors.  His intelligence, character, bravery, and his temperament could be sized up in mere seconds.
    Charles grinned from ear to ear and laughed.  “Mr. Curry, you really do need to relax!  If you can’t find humor in a brutal murder you haven’t lived!  I know you hated this man, celebrate!  Spit on his corpse or something.  Have some fun.”
    The bartender finally knew this madman wasn’t going to kill him but still found the enthusiastic charm he exuded very disturbing.  If the two men weren’t in the same room as a dead body, he could easily think that Charles was an evangelical preacher trying to bring him the good Word.
    “Mr. Curry, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask a favor of you.”
    The bartender knew he couldn’t refuse and dreaded the question.  “What do you need?”
    “Oh, before we get to that, I don’t believe I know your first name.”
    “Sebastian.”
    “Sebastian!