Chapter 87 professional assassin

"Who do you want to kill?" I asked. "Myself," Mitchell said. Another one of those guys. I said, "I don't need to know why you died, but maybe you can satisfy my curiosity." "I owe a lot of debt, and I can only pay it off with insurance premiums. The rest of the money can allow my wife and two children to live a good life." "Are you sure it's the only way?" He nodded.Mitchell is a man in his early thirties."Are you a good shooter?" he asked. "The best." "I want you to shoot me through the heart."

"A smart choice," I said. "There is no pain, and it will not cause suspicion. Most people like to open the coffin for people to pay their respects. If the coffin is closed, it may arouse people's suspicion and fantasy. When do you think is the best time?" "Twelve to one noon is ideal," he further explained. "I'm the accountant of the Gulf Savings Bank. We eat lunch at twelve o'clock, except on Fridays. On Fridays, I'm in charge of the counter. It's just me and a young lady in the office at that time." "You want that girl as a witness?"

"Yes, I feel that if no one saw me being shot, my death might raise suspicions and then compensation would be troublesome." "Friday, at exactly twelve-thirty, I walked into the business hall and shot you?" "Through the heart," he said again. "I think we can make the whole thing look like a robbery." "There's also the issue of compensation." "Of course, how much will it cost?" I tried to open an amount: "10,000 yuan." He frowned and thought for a while, then said, "I'll pay five thousand yuan in advance, and the rest will be done afterwards—" He stopped.

I smiled slightly: "Obviously, there is no afterthought." He relented, but he wasn't the type to pay the full amount upfront. "Let's do this, I'll pay you five thousand yuan now, and I'll put the rest in an envelope. Put it on the counter in the business hall. After you kill me, you can take the envelope away. " "How can I be sure it wasn't newspaper or something in the envelope?" "You can look at the contents of the envelope before killing me." This seems reasonable. "From your situation, you are almost bankrupt. Where are you going to get 10,000 yuan?"

"I've embezzled from the company for the past two months," he said, eyeing me. "Tell me, do you often have customers like me?" "Not often." In fact, in my career, I've dealt with things like Mitchell, and there are three that I've done with great satisfaction. The exception is Piro. Pirro is a mathematics teacher in a middle school in the city. He is deeply in love with a lady who teaches family economic history. Unfortunately, the lady doesn't like him and marries a member of the school board. Pirro bravely attended the church wedding, but immediately after the wedding he strolled to a bar on the waterfront, where he met Fran, one of my surrogates.After four glasses of whiskey, Pirro told Fren that he didn't want to live, but he didn't have the guts to commit suicide.

Fran introduced him to me. "I guess there are people like that, after they hired you, they changed their minds and didn't want to die, did they?" Mitchell asked. "yes." "But once you take money from people to kill, you can't stop, no matter how much they beg, can you?" I smile slightly. "I'm not going to ask you to spare your life," Mitchell said firmly. "But will you run away?" "No, I won't run away." However, Pirro escaped, and I still regret that the work was not done. Mitchell took out a thick envelope from his pocket, counted out five thousand dollars, and said, "Driving to the business office, shooting me, and driving away, it will take less than ten minutes. Remember, it must penetrate the heart !"

After he left, I locked the door, went to the next suite, and opened the door. When I meet with clients, I always have two connecting rooms or suites in case someone is waiting to follow me. Once inside the second house, I remove the fake mustache, dark glasses and light blonde wig. I tuck those into my golf bag, along with the shirt and blazer. I put on a sweatshirt, a baseball cap, a golf bag, and when I leave, I'm a golfer out there. When I arrived at the hotel parking lot, I saw Mitchell driving away in a light blue sedan, and I silently noted his license plate number. I drove to the Compass Bar on Casey Street, where I asked Fran to meet.

I have many agents - I like to call them association members. They are distributed all over the country.When they found a customer, they placed an ad for the loss in the local paper: "Lost Tan and White Shepherd Dog Named Violet, Prize for Return," followed by a phone number. My members and I have had a great time working with me over the years, with the only minor hiccup being that we had to find homes for our thirteen collies named Violet. Outwardly, at least, I am no different from my neighbors, except that I have sixteen subscriptions to American and two Canadian newspapers.

With a big beard and calm eyes, Fran always wore a pale green jacket and a captain's cap.Some people may think that he has spent most of his life at sea, but in fact, he is a retired accountant for the Social Security Administration. He lives in the suburbs, but every day after lunch, he puts on his uniform and drives into the city or to the beach. He spends most of his time by the seaside and in bars, listening to people talk about the sea, and occasionally treats.He was very much looking forward to a career at sea, which he gave up because of his early marriage and five children.Before dark, he returned to his son-in-law's house.

I found him sitting at a painted table, drinking a beer. "How much do you get?" he asked. "Did you bring it?" "He paid five thousand yuan in advance," I opened the envelope under the table and counted out two thousand. I pay my agents 40% commission, which I think some people think is overpaid, however, I feel like my members do as much as I do and their expectations are as high as I do. Fran is my new member, and he has only introduced me to two people so far: Pirro and now Mitchell. He folded the bill and put it in the pocket of his pale green jacket. "How did you find out about Mitchell?" I asked.

"Actually, he found me. While I was sitting here reading the afternoon paper, he came in, ordered a glass of beer from the bar, and sat down on the chair next to me. After he finished drinking the beer, he looked at me, Say, "What would you like to drink? 'I say beer.He ordered two glasses and sat down at my table.It didn't take long for him to tell me his troubles and his thoughts. " "Does he know your name?" "I don't know, I never tell anyone." "But he came to you, and almost immediately talked to you about his troubles." Fren nodded slowly and said, "Thinking about it now, it was he who proposed it first." We thought about it for a long time, and then I said, "Are you sure you never told anyone about your relationship with me?" "I swear," said Fren affirmatively, "a captain swears, no one in the world knows about our relationship, except, of course, Pirro." Piro?Could Mitchell have come from Pirro? My members never tell customers their real names or addresses, but Pirro still might have a way of helping Mitchell find Fren. Fren's uniform, his beard, and his constant presence at the seaside—and, I'm only now noticing, Fren has a star-shaped scar on his right eyebrow. Yes, it's not hard to find Fren. What does it matter, I thought, if Mitchell got the news from Pirro? "Fren," I said. "I think you'd better not use that money now, at least not until I tell you." He seemed to understand what I meant. "You think maybe the bill is marked, or the police have a number?" He smiled faintly. "I hope we don't have to throw it away." I hope so too. The next day, I drove to the small town where Mitchell lived.It's two hundred miles away.I got there after two o'clock. The town is like a village, with most of the business on one main street.There is a sign on the town boundary that says: Entrance 2314. I stop the car, walk into a pharmacy, enter a public phone booth, and look through the town phone. There are twenty-two shops in town, three doctors, and a masseur. , two dentists, six restaurants, four churches, a savings bank and national law firm. I noticed that one of the four lawyers was named Mitchell.I thought about it. Mitchell once said that he was the accountant of the savings bank. Is he a lawyer and accountant? Looking through the residential section again, I didn't find the name Piro. I left the pharmacy and wandered down Main Street, where I stopped at a barbershop to look at election posters. Judging from the poster, Mitchell is also the prosecutor of the local district court. Sighing, I wandered past the Bay Savings Office, where there were three or four clerks and six or seven customers, without seeing Mitchell.However, he may be in the office inside. I turned into the nearest bar.It's very quiet inside.Two men in overalls sat at one end of the bar, drinking and chatting. After they finished drinking, they left. "The bartender wiped down the bar and came up to me, ready to chat. "Just got here?" I thought it was impossible for him to know the 2,314 people here, but he thought I was a stranger.Maybe it's because I'm too conspicuous like this. Over three beers, I found out that Mitchell, a bachelor with no family, was running for prosecutor in the local courthouse, but it was difficult because he wasn't from here and voters tended to pick their hometown people.I also found out that Sheriff Martin's wife was Mitchell's older sister, who had just married a middle school math teacher. What's the name of that math teacher? His name is Molo. At a quarter to three, I left the bar and walked back to my car on foot.I quickly found Bay Middle School and parked outside. There was a row of school buses waiting for the students to leave school. At ten past three, the school bell rang, and thirty seconds later, students swarmed out, most of them rushing for the school bus. By the time the first teachers started leaving, most of the school buses were already full and driving. I waited and finally saw Pirro - now called Molo.He was a tall, stooped man in his late thirties. I watched him walk to his car, and if he noticed me, that's okay, we only met once, and that time I was wearing a fake beard, sunglasses and a wig. Pirro advanced three thousand dollars, a lot of money for a teacher. Regarding his death, he did not propose the exact time, he was unwilling to know the exact time, and only limited it to be completed within one week. When I went to find him three days later, he was missing. I later learned that within twenty-four hours of meeting me, Pirro decided that life was too precious to die. He hurried to the hotel where I met him, but of course I was long gone. He rushed to the bar where he met Fren for the first time, but Fren was away to see his grandson that day, and he was not there.Terrified, Pirro packed his bags and fled. Now, I watched Molo—that is, Piro—get into the car and drive off. I followed closely. After walking six blocks, he stopped in front of a tall Victorian house.Get out of the car and get into the building. As I drove past, I also noticed that Mitchell's pale blue sedan was parked in front of Pirro's car. This reminds me of Mitchell again. He lied to me that he was married and had two children.What does that mean?To make his suicide motive more believable? What is his real intention? I went back down the main street, parked behind the only hotel in town, checked in, and went to my room with my suitcase and golf bag. The next day, Friday, I had a late breakfast and strolled down the main street again. I met a fat policeman who I guessed from his age and demeanor to be Sergeant Martin. I walked up the steps and into the town library.I found a book and sat down at a table near the window, which looked out on the main street, from which I had a good view of the Bay Savings Bank. At ten past eleven I saw Inspector Martin walking into the savings office. I am waiting. He didn't leave. At half past eleven, at twelve, at half past twelve, he still didn't come out. At one o'clock, Mitchell came out of the savings bank. He looked at both sides of the street, looked at his watch, and went back inside. I'm still waiting, curious about Martin Cao Chang, will he come out? At a quarter to two, I gave up.It's time to leave town.I put the book back on the shelf and walked back to the hotel. When I opened the door, Sergeant Martin was waiting for me with a pistol. He smiled and said, "So, you decided not to show up at the savings bank?" I pretended to be innocent and said, "Appearance? What appearance?" He walked up to me and searched me, but found no weapons. I noticed he searched my trunk and golf bags.My fake beard, sunglasses and wig are all on the bed. He put the pistol back. "When you didn't show up on time, I was surprised. There were five thousand yuan waiting for you to pick it up, but you didn't come. Why?" I didn't speak. "You suspect my arrangement?" He grinned. "Mitchell was wearing a bulletproof vest. After you shot him, he pretended to be dead on the ground. Then, I came out of the hiding place and ordered you to throw away the pistol. Otherwise, your head will explode." So to speak, is a trap! Cao Chang continued: "This incident started with Molo, maybe I should call him Piro. One night a month ago, Piro, Mitchell and I were drinking together. Got drunk and told about him hiring you to kill him. He thinks you might still be after him." Sheriff Martin smiled again: "Mitchell had an idea. He is running for the District Attorney, and he needs to win votes. He estimated that if he risked his life to crack the underworld organization, he could win the trust of voters. So he thought This little trick came out." Sergeant Martin took a cigar from the inside pocket of his uniform. "Yes, as I said, when I was waiting at the savings office, I thought to myself, Maybe you doubted and gave up. But what caused you to doubt? Did you come in first and find out something? up? Maybe you're still here to see if it's a trap? " Sheriff Martin lit his cigar. "I picked up the phone and found Hill, the hotel accountant, and asked him if anyone was staying. He mentioned you and said that you hadn't paid the bill. So I left the savings office through the back door and went to the hotel to check." The thing which the golf bag took out. "I thought, if you put those things on, you'd be exactly what Mitchell described to me." I sighed, am I going to jail for the murderer?No, possibly jail time, but not for homicide. The reason is simple: my association and I are fake, we have never killed anyone, no matter where or when. We do take other people's money, but afterwards, we always disappear without a trace.However, it will not be forgotten to send an anonymous letter to the victim, telling him that there are people who are eager to see him die, and name them. This can at least make victims more vigilant. We also sent a letter to the police with the same news.This won't necessarily make the police arrest my customer due to lack of solid evidence, but I believe it will at least deter the police from further murderous plans when they question my customer. In short, we are saving people, and at the same time making some money. We never heard any complaints from customers. After all, customers who hired people to kill people would not call the police because we did not perform their contracts.In the case of suicides like Piro's, I always go to them after a few days. I always find that they've changed their minds, so I'll "allow" them to live, and for that alone they'll be grateful, and no one will ask for their advance payment back. I didn't come here to shoot Mitchell and take the five thousand dollars. I came here because I suspected that Pirro might be here, and I was going to find him. Tell him I have given up my intention to kill him. The police chief puffed out his cigarette slowly, and said, "Yes, sir, I thought about it carefully while I was waiting." He looked at me for thirty seconds. "Nobody knew I was here," he said. "Mitchell doesn't know either." I frowned, wondering why. Another thirty seconds passed. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind.He said, "It's my damn wife, I can't stand living with her, and she won't divorce me." He leaned forward. "I have 4,000 yuan in the bank, and I am willing to give it to anyone, as long as he can solve my problems for me." I stared at him, and then, I breathed a sigh of relief. I have another customer.