True Conviction by James P. Sumner Read Free Book Online Page B

hanging on both sides of the corridor. Nothing I recognize—probably local artists keen for some cheap advertising, or someone dead who is so obscure, it’s now deemed fashionable to have their work up on display.
    I check the brass plaques to see which direction my room is before turning right and heading down the corridor.
    There’s no sign of life anywhere. It’s too late in the day for the maids to still be clearing out the rooms of the people who left earlier this morning. I imagine most rooms on the floor will be empty during the day… although, I say that, two people are having uncomfortably loud sex in the room on my left that I’m passing right now. The woman’s putting too much effort into the vocals, if you ask me, so I suspect she’s faking it. But judging by the occasional grunt that I can hear from the guy, I don’t think he cares all that much. Possibly a couple having a torrid affair or something.
    I smile to myself and walk on, soon drawing level with my door on the right. I take a deep breath, calming myself for what lies ahead. I press my keycard against the lock pad just above the handle. It beeps once and I hear the lock slide back. I open the door and step inside, closing it gently behind me.
    I walk through the room and place my briefcase on the bed. I remove my tie and roll my shirtsleeves up. After all these years, I still get a buzz of adrenaline when I’m on a job. It’s weird to admit, I know, but I love what I do for a living. In a perfectly normal, non-psychopathic kind of way, obviously.
    I don’t pay much attention to the room itself—to me, if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. I just walk over to the TV, turn it on, and scroll through the channels until I find some music. I find VH1, which is in the middle of showing a classic rock Top 100 show. Thin Lizzy are belting out The Boys Are Back In Town , which is a fantastic song! I turn the volume up, smile to myself for a moment and then move back over to the bed and open my briefcase.
    I take out my Bluetooth headset and place it on my ear. I then dial Josh, who answers as I’m singing.
    “The jukebox in the corner blasting out my favorite song... The nights are gettin’ warmer it, won’t be long...”
    To his credit, he responds immediately. “Won’t be long ‘til summer comes... Now that the boys are here again...”
    All together now...
    “The boys are back in town, the boys are back in town!”
    We laugh.
    Nothing ruins a job more than tension and hesitation. The best bit of advice I can give any budding assassin is to relax, clear your head and just do it. Not methodically, but instinctively. Let your hands and your mind and your eyes just do what they know they need to. Go with the flow, as the saying goes.
    “I see preparations are going well,” Josh says, still laughing.
    “As always,” I reply. “Jackson’s directly above me now. Is everything in place with the hotel?”
    “Sure is. If you ring room service in… four minutes, their afternoon shift will have started. The guy who brings you your food will be roughly your height and build.”
    “Excellent. And the drill?”
    “Should be under your bed, near the window.”
    “Josh, for all of your annoying habits, you are an absolute genius. How do you do it?”
    “C’mon, Adrian, you know a magician never reveals how he does his tricks.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m not paying a magician, I’m paying you. Take the compliment and spill.”
    He sighs. “Fine. Well, you know the guy on the front desk?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You’re also paying him.”
    “Am I?”
    “Yeah.”
    “How many more people do I pay that I don’t know about?”
    “Now that would be telling,” he says, with a knowing smile that I can feel down the phone.
    “I think I need to hire an independent accountant—it seems you're spending my fortune on all kinds of things...”
    “Adrian, if I was going to screw you out of any money, I’d have done it and gone a long time