Contract Killer

The dark room, the eerie quiet, the light of the cigarette. In his hand a plastic bag for the ashes and bud. Ah-ah Mr. Officer, no evidence here. He marveled at the state of the room, a masterpiece.

The bookcase vandalized, books scattered on the floor. The cupboards ransacked, the wardrobe too. Even a few chairs turned around. The killer was looking for something, but what? No money was taken, the expensive watches intact. The only thing missing was the USB, could that be a clue? Of course, our killer was looking for nothing but his victim. Killed in his sleep, but that simply wouldn’t do.

The poor-rich man was carefully pulled out of his bed, a few scratches here and there, a few punches, a sign of a struggle. You’d think that there would be evidence that the marks were made after death. We said no evidence. A silk scarf was placed over the victims face, chloroform, still alive but not moving. When the horrific beating was over, a silencer did the trick.

The empty cartridge delicately removed. Not good enough. So he took a woodworker’s side float, enlarged the exit wound. He then lodged a .45 caliber bullet into the wall where the unfortunate was supposedly killed. Another puff of smoke enters the room.

As our assassin admired his work, he quickly checked his messages, the money was sent. In a week, it should be on his account. Last breath of his cigarette and he took out a small piece of marble. The perfect ashtray. The butt and marble placed in the bag. All done, the last piece of evidence is removed. Perfection.

He then slowly left the apartment, checking no one was around, he turned to the living room, shot one blank in the air, and walked away. As he exited the building, he smirked. What would they make out of it? A robbery? An enemy of the victim?  A secret love affair? Who knows.  Even if they figure out this was a contract killing, it would be way past the essential 48 hours. First they would have to realize that the evidence found on the scene was fake. Then they’d have to see the complexion of the whole setting. By then, our killer would have completed another job, removing evidence just as meticulously. But they won’t figure it out, he knows they won’t, he works with them every day.



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