Chapter 55 a cautious killer

Rossetti’s restaurant is located in a brownstone building on 46th Street in New York, not far from Park Avenue.One night in August, Lee Costa stood in front of the restaurant, watching the customers coming and going. He was a small man.Then, he walked through the door of the restaurant. He stood for a while in the aisle near the cloakroom when the head waiter came over. "I'm looking for Joe Rossetti," Costa said. "Who are you?" "Here comes the man who told him to sell insurance." "no name?" "Just tell him that. He'll understand."

"You can wait at the bar for a while if you want." Costa goes to the cloakroom and leaves his coat there.He was about to go to the bar when a burly waiter blocked his way. "Come on," he said, "I'll take you upstairs." He pointed his thumb towards an old elevator in the corner of the room. Rossetti's room was on the fourth floor, and he was the only occupant on that floor.As soon as the bellman rang the bell, the door opened.They entered a large living room, furnished simply and comfortably, with some antiques. A squat man stood in the hallway of the room, eyeing Costa suspiciously.

"I'm Joe Rossetti," he said, with an Italian accent.Instead of going over to shake Costa's hand, he just stood there watching him, his head slightly tilted to one side, frowning. "You're smaller than I thought," he said. "Come in. Sit. You sit too, Chigurh." He pushed open the door of the back room and let Costa and his guide in. "Fucking boy, meet Lee Costa," he said.A small woman across the room looked up into Costa's eyes, surveying his face.She sighed, a sound that was loud in the quiet room. "That's him?" she said.

Rossetti nodded. She gathered up her needlework and stared at Costa. "Father, please do your business. We'll have dinner after we're done." She walked out of the room. Chigurh stood up and looked down at Costa. "Has this fellow come to trouble you?" he asked Rossetti. Rossetti shook his head. Costa's cold blue eyes were suddenly alert. "What would you do if I came here for trouble?" "Then throw you out," the big guy said, taking a step toward him. Costa turns to Rossetti. "Better lock up your ape." He turned to Chigurh with a pleasing face. "Stand aside, fat man," he said quietly.

Ziggy reached out and rushed towards him, trying to grab his collar and grab him up.When Chigurh bent down, Costa's feet flew out and kicked him in the crotch, causing him to cry out in pain and bend over.Costa walked over and kicked him to the ground. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rossetti," Costa said. "It's his own." Rossetti leaned over the table and looked at the large figure writhing on the ground. "You move so fast," he said, "as fast as a snake." "You have your specialty, Monsieur Rossetti, and I have mine." "He'll kill you," Rossetti said.

Costa shook his head. "No, he won't, Mr. Rossetti. He'll go downstairs and make a drink, won't he, Chigurh?" Chigurh lay on the ground, gasping for breath, turning his head with effort like a turtle, looking at Costa's smiling face. "Next time, I'll be gentler with you," Costa said. Ziggy stood up unsteadily and walked out of the room. "Why Chigurh here, Mr. Rossetti?" asked Costa. "I am afraid." "Afraid of me? You don't have to. I'm a professional killer. I do what I'm paid to do, and I follow the rules of the business."

Rossetti nervously sat back in his chair. "Go ahead and tell me what's going on," Costa said. "Our mutual friend says you have a problem." "I have a trouble, and that's why I came to you." "Tell me his name, Mr. Rossetti." "His name is Baxter, Roy Baxter." "There is no other solution?" "I can pay him." "It's not generally useful against blackmailers," Costa said. "You already know about this?" "Our mutual friend told me a little bit. He said there's a guy trying to blackmail you."

Rossetti did not speak. "Speak, Mr. Rossetti. You can trust me." Rossetti looked away, his face was twitching. "A long time ago, I killed a man. Baxter found out about it.He wants money.I know him, and if I pay, he'll keep going.So I asked our friends for help.I've done him a great favor and he owes me a debt.Now he pays me back with you. " "Have you told your wife?" "She knows, but she won't tell." "Does anyone else know me?" "No. Just me, my wife and our friends." Rossetti reached into the drawer. "Here's the information about Baxter, his home address, his business, and a photograph."

Costa glanced at the files. "What does he do?" "He's a lawyer, or he says he is. I don't know how he makes his money. He should have his way of making money." "Then why would he blackmail you?" "I don't know, maybe he has high daily expenses and doesn't have enough money." "My fees are high, too," Costa said. "I know, I can afford it." Costa smiled at our friend who offered to give you the wholesale price. "Can you afford five thousand dollars?" "Affordable. It's a lot cheaper than Baxter's asking price."

"How long did he give you?" "He said he would give me two weeks to raise 25,000 yuan. If it doesn't work after the deadline, he will report to the police." Costa stood up, folded the papers, and put them in his pocket. "I'll scout the terrain and tell you the result." Rossetti looked at Costa, his hands were shaking. "Go ahead," he said. "I am a very cautious man, Mr. Rossetti. I will investigate carefully and tell you the result." Costa's eyes fell on a painting of a sea fish hanging over the fireplace. "You're nervous," he said. "Why don't you go fishing for a few days?"

Rossetti smiled wryly. "Me?" he said. "I went fishing every weekend, all summer, with my wife. We had a small boat. We lived peacefully, opened restaurants, fished. All of a sudden, I got a call from that Baxter. I stopped fishing. , I don’t care about the restaurant, I’m anxious all day.” "I'll do my best, Mr. Rossetti. Maybe you'll be fishing again soon." Costa left the back room.He nodded cheerfully to Mrs. Rossetti as he passed the drawing room.She raised her head and looked at him sadly. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked. "not yet." "Come downstairs and eat with us," she said, walking to the door of the back room. "Father, let's go have dinner together?" he comes out. "Go ahead and eat," he said, "I'm going to sleep for a while." "Put the quilt back on, baby's father," she said. They sat in a carriage in the restaurant, and the little woman said only a few words as they ate.Finally, when the coffee was served, she looked up at him. It's a sad thing, she said, "and the boy's father is terrified." "Are you scared?" Costa asked. "Me? No, I'm not afraid. This kind of thing is inevitable. A person's life is always a constant battle. I understand this." "Don't worry. I'll be very careful." "Yes, you should be careful. I am also very careful. You must be careful." "Don't worry, Mrs. Rossetti." He stood up, ready to leave. "Do you have a coat?" "Yes, in the cloakroom." "Wear thicker," she said, "don't catch a cold." Her dark eyes stayed on him as he left. The next morning he went to scout the terrain.Baxter's office is in a building on 56th Street.Costa got there just before nine and entered the building among the commuters until he came to the end of the corridor on the eleventh floor, from which he could see Baxter's office. There are people coming and going here, and there is an elevator driver in every elevator, so it is difficult to carry out assassination. Baxter came into his office at nine-thirty, a dumpy man with a cigar in his mouth. Costa waited another fifteen minutes in the corridor.Then he went into the office and handed Baxter's secretary a business card that said he was a salesman for the office supply company.The secretary said that Mr. Baxter was satisfied with his existing office equipment and did not want to purchase new ones. Costa thanked the secretary politely and left. In that short time, he had seen clearly the The layout, as he took the elevator downstairs, shook his head disapprovingly. That afternoon, he was driving a rental car to Connecticut, where he stopped by a real estate agency close to Baxter's home.Company employees drove him through the area, talking about the benefits of living in Connecticut.Coincidentally, there was a vacant house for sale just next to Baxter's house, and he showed great interest in the vacant house, and at his request, the company clerk led him across the street , he took the opportunity to look carefully at Baxter's house.There were six houses in that row, and Baxter was the one at the top, surrounded by a high brick wall.Costa stopped and looked at the house carefully.There is an iron gate at the door, and a sign is hung on it, which reads: "Beware of dog bites".There is a big dog in the yard that barks when it sees them approaching. For the rest of the afternoon, Costa told the brokerage clerk that his name was Xavier, he was moving here from Ohio, and that his wife would be coming soon, and that he and her would come and buy the building. house.During the conversation, he learned about other residents, including Baxter.Baxter, he learned, was a widower who lived alone in the house and was taken care of during the day by a Swiss couple who did not spend the night there. At six o'clock he returned to Rossetti's and sat in their drawing room.Rossetti sat in a chair behind his desk, and his wife sat knitting at the other end of the living room. Costa looks at the woman, then at Rossetti. "I want to talk to you both," he said. "Assassination can be done. There's only one thing I'm worried about." "What are you worried about?" "I need a little reassurance," Costa said. Rossetti leaned forward, "You mean you don't want to do it anymore?" "I mean, if I can't get help, then I won't do it. I need your help." Mrs. Rossetti folded her hands on her knees. "You speak clearly," she said. "I don't want to do it in his office, it's crowded. I want to do it at his house. And I don't want to drive there." He paused. "Then what?" said Rossetti. "We're going fishing this weekend. The three of us are going together. I'm going to kill him while we're there. That way you two get involved too, and we can't give each other out in the future." Rossetti turned to his wife. "How's the motherfucker?" he said. She stared at Costa for a moment, then sighed and nodded slowly. "I think it's good, the baby's father," she said. "We have no choice. It's totally understandable that he's being cautious." Rossetti turned to Costa. "Just do it," he said. "We have no choice." "That's a deal," Costa said. "How do we do it?" Rossetti asked. “Pick me up at the City Island pier on Saturday morning. Fill up the boat there and I’ll be on board while it’s refueling.” Costa stood up, ready to leave. "I'll tell you where to go when you get on the boat. Leave the rest to me." "Wear thickly," said Mrs. Rossetti, "to avoid catching cold." On Saturday morning, Costa arrived at the pier and waited unobtrusively among the crowd.He watched silently as Rossetti drove a motor boat towards the pier. Then he made his way through the crowd, onto the boat, and into the wheelhouse.A few minutes later, they headed for the Connecticut coast.Rossetti sails, Costa stands beside him, and Mrs. Rossetti sits on a wicker chair knitting. In the afternoon they docked at a secluded spot at the head of the peninsula on which Baxter's house was located. "What should we do now?" Rossetti asked nervously. "Eat, fish, have fun," Costa said. "Are you hungry?" asked Mrs. Rossetti. "kind of." "Okay, I'll cook, and you and the kid's father can go fishing." At six o'clock she called them from the cab door below. "Come down," she said, "dinner is served." Rossetti was very nervous during the meal and looked at Costa from time to time. His wife was busy serving them food without saying a word. After the meal, Costa slept in the cabin for half an hour. When he woke up, he found Rossetti looking at him questioningly. "I'm going to swim," he said. Mrs. Rossetti patted his arm with her little hand. "Be careful," she said. He lowered his head and smiled slightly at her. "I've always been careful," he said, "I'm a cautious person." He stepped into the cab and, a few minutes later, emerged in his bathing suit and snorkeling equipment in hand.Standing at the stern of the boat, with a black rubber hood on his head, flippers on his feet, diving goggles and straws on, he jumped gently into the water.He checked a small plastic bag tied to his body, touched the rubber gloves tied around his waist, and slowly swam towards the shore.The diving gear allowed him to swim effortlessly, lightly through the black water. Half an hour later, he stopped a few feet from the Baxters' pier and drifted slowly over until his feet touched the ground.He reached for the small plastic bag and opened it. Take a piece of meat out of it, being careful not to get any water on it.He whistled lowly, and then he heard the sound of a dog running towards him.Dogs barked, breaking the tranquility of the coast.He tossed the meat at the dog's feet, then dived back into the deep water, breathing through a straw, not at all visible from the shore.The barking of the dog became louder and louder. A moment later, Baxter emerges in his nightgown, flashlight in his hand.He inspected the yard carefully, then ordered the dog to stop barking. Costa waited. When Baxter was back in his room, the dog sniffed around the pier, then turned its attention to the piece of meat.Costa could see the dog pick up the piece of meat. Eat it crunchily.Then he heard the dog whimpering in pain, scratching the ground with its paws.When the sound stopped, Costa floated over and whistled again lowly.The dog didn't respond, and Costa looked up cautiously.The dog was lying by the pier. Costa took off his goggles and flippers and dragged the dog's body into the shadows.There was still a small piece of meat on the pier, and he picked it up carefully and threw it into the sea, and then he went back to the shadows and waited patiently for half an hour, watching the servants go out the back door and get into a car.After they drove out, the gate closed automatically.Costa waited until the sound of the cars died down completely, then took off his diving gear and crept over to the porch railing.He scrambled over the railing without making a sound and lay motionless on the porch floor for ten minutes before moving on again.He put on his gloves and crawled under the shutter.The windows are open.Two minutes later, he stood in front of the sleeping Roy Baxter's bed.Costa stood on his feet and put his hands around Baxter's throat.Costa choked for a long time, then took off his gloves and felt the pulse of the corpse on the bed.Finding to his satisfaction that Baxter was indeed dead, he put on his gloves again and backed out the way he had come. On the pier, he put on his scuba gear again, dragged the dog's body over and threw it into the water.He estimated the direction of Rossetti's boat, and swam across with ease.As he got closer to the boat, he could see the Rossettis sitting in the stern. "Is it Costa?" Rossetti called. "It was me," Costa replied.He handed them the flippers and diving goggles and climbed up the stern, landing right at the Rossettis' feet. "It's done," he said. Mrs. Rossetti watched him, her dark eyes unreadable in the dim light. "No trouble?" "No trouble." "Take off these wet clothes and you will freeze to death." Costa went into the cabin, took off his rubber jacket, dried his hair, put on his trousers and jacket, and went back to the Rossettis. Mrs. Rossetti sat in a chair, her hands knitting again.Rossetti brought a bottle of wine from somewhere. "Come on, let's celebrate," he said to Costa, pouring three glasses of wine. They toasted.For a long time Mrs. Rossetti gazed at Costa's face. "Everything is going well, isn't it?" she says. "It went very well," Costa said. "Nobody saw me, nobody knew I was here, nobody knew what happened, except you and me." "You shot him?" Rossetti asked. "I don't use a gun," Costa said. "That's enough," he held up a hand, pointing to the hard edge of his palm. Rossetti stood up and walked to the cabin door. "I'm tired, motherfucker." She looked at him with concern on her face. "Take the quilt up, daddy. Get a good night's sleep." She turned to Costa. "Mr. Costa, go and have a good sleep too." Costa stood up, stretched, and walked to the side of the boat. "Nice night, eh?" He smiled at her. "Yes," she said, drawing a small pistol from under her sweater. "A very good night." She shot him twice in the heart.Costa's body was beaten over the railing and fell into the water.Mrs. Rossetti, gun in hand, leaned against the railing and looked down, and saw the body slowly being carried away by the tide. "What do we do now, mother?" Rossetti poked his head out of the cabin door. She turned around gravely. "Nothing," she said, throwing the pistol into the water. "Cover the quilt, the child's father, don't catch a cold."