Suicide, Inc

CHAPTER 27

Jennifer watched her husband walking toward them. “Benton, I don’t understand-”

“No doubt Smith does.”

Smith said, “All is better than a third.”

“Exactly,” said Arloff, smiling at them both.

“But we…love each other.”

“Later on, love, we can talk about it,” her husband said. “Right now, though, I’m going to deprive you of Smith’s company.”

“You didn’t kill Hal Larzon,” she said, unsure.

“I did, yes. And for the very reason your clever former beau mentioned.” He gestured at Smith with the kilgun. “I’ll have to take you someplace where I can persuade you to tell me where the others are.”

“I doubt you can accomplish that, Arloff.”

Arloff laughed. “Oh, there’s not a doubt in my mind,” he said. “After that, and after I’ve gathered in the last bits of the puzzle, then I’ll see about arranging some accidents and disappearances for you Horizon Kids.”

Jennifer said quietly, “You aren’t going to kill him, Benton.”

“You actually, darling, don’t have a hell of a lot of say in the matter.”

“Benton,” she said, even more quietly.

That made him turn toward her. “Really now, Jenny.”

She’d taken a small kilgun from the pocket of her jacket. It was aimed at her husband. “You’d just,” she said, “better go away from here.”

Laughing again, he started easing to her. “I know you, love,” he said. “You can’t shoot me, no matter what you think or feel.”

“I won’t let you kill Jared.”

“You will because…oof.”

Smith had leaped at the distracted Arloff.

The doves went flapping up into the darkness.

As the two men fell Smith got a grip on Arloff’s gun-wrist. They rolled and tumbled on the stone temple floor.

Grunting, Arloff tried to knee him in the groin. Smith twisted, avoided that.

The thickset man strained, struggling to regain control of the kilgun. Smith was forced to let go of his wrist for a second, then caught it again.

In that instant the gun went off, sending a thin line of crackling crimson light slicing across the night.

Arloff made a terrible keening sound when the beam touched him. His face began to smoke and go black. Stumbling back and away, Smith stood.

Arloff made three jerking movements, shoulders and arms shaking. Then he was dead, smoke rising up from his ruined head.

Bending, Smith picked up the kilgun. He held it gingerly, as though it were dirty.

“You killed him,” Jennifer said.

Smith, he had no idea why, grinned. “I wasn’t exactly planning to, but-”

“It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter.”

He crossed to her, reached out the hand that didn’t hold the kilgun. “Jennifer, there’s nothing-”

“It’s all right, Jared,” she said. “But, please, don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t follow me.” She left him there and went hurrying downhill through the night forest.

Saint rewound the plaid muffler around his neck. The fog was thick and prickly in the quirky lane. “A sad turn of events,” he remarked.

Cruz said, “He may not be in this public house either.”

“One hopes not, but judging from what Jennifer told us when we called at Horizon House in quest of him, I fear the worst.”

Cruz pushed open the sewdooak door of the Snerg & Racket with his metal hand. “I lose the bet, there’s Smith yonder.”

There were some twenty or so patrons in the snug room, most of them at the small tables ringing the deep blazing fireplace. Two played at airdarts in a far corner.

Smith sat at a table alone, both hands locked around a glass.

“Not that the chap doesn’t have a perfect right to backslide under the circumstances,” said Saint.

Cruz led the way to Smith. “How’re you faring, old chum?”

Smith looked up at him. “It was Arloff,” he said. “He’s dead, up at the temple ruins. We’ll have to notify the local law soon.”

Saint rubbed at his nose, frowning down at Smith. “Jove, you’re perfectly sober.”

“He’s drinking sparkling water,” said Cruz, seating himself opposite.

“No more binges,” said Smith. “That only happened in my youth. And that’s over.”

“Forgive me for having so little faith.” Saint dusted the third chair before sitting.

Smith nodded. “We’d better get back to the satellite,” he said, finishing his drink. “I just came in here to warm up. Seems damn chilly out tonight.”

“Deucedly so,” agreed Saint.