Hilary Connors was surprised by just how easy killing somebody
could be; like everything else in life, you just had to put your mind to
it. She crossed a disused railway line tugging her cream-coloured, baby
alpaca coat about her ankles. An East-Anglian sea breeze stung her face.
She huddled, pulling her chinchilla collar close around her neck and blew
into her hands. She couldn't feel her toes. Suddenly, there he was. He
didn't look all that bad for a murderer, perhaps a bit slim, but he had a
nice smile.
'You startled me,' she said.
'Force of habit,' he replied. 'People never hear me coming. I wouldn't live
long if they did. Now, can we get on with it?'
'Right, yes, sorry,' she said blushing. 'What do you want me to do?'
'First the money: Five thousand now. You got it with you?'
She nodded.
'Then ten thousand: You wait till I contact you. Then a further five
thousand. You never contact me, you can't. You pay what I say, how I say,
when I say. Nothing happens till I get the money. Got any problems with
that?'
She shook her head.
'Never be late. Don't even think about being late or missing a payment. If
you make that mistake, you'll never make another. Are we understanding each
other?'
She nodded.
'Photograph?'
She pulled the torn wedding photograph from her handbag. He smiled again,
running his fingers down the jagged edge of the fragmented image.
'I like that,' he said nodding. 'Have you got a whole photo?'
She shook her head, 'it's the only one. I burned the others, all of them. I
burned everything.'
'Where's the other half?'
'I don't know, I threw it away, I think.'
'Where?'
'I don't know, I don't know!'
'OK,' he said softly, 'it's OK.'
They sat for a minute in silence.
'You OK?'
She sniffed, 'yeah, never better.' She wiped her eyes with her wrist. After
a few minutes she asked, 'what do I do now?'
'You go home and wait. You'll never see me again. Have you told anyone else
about this?'
She shook her head.
'You're sure? No-one at all? Think carefully before you answer. If I have
to come back and clean up after your mistakes, it'll mean killing
everybody. Do you understand what I'm saying? I don't just mean him. I mean
you and whoever it is you told about this.'
Hilary didn't respond. The gunman raised his voice slightly to jog her back
to the matter in hand.
'You understand me, Mrs Connors?'
'Yes,' she whispered, 'yes, I understand, I told no-one, absolutely
no-one.'
'If I hear my name mentioned anywhere, I'll know it came from you, do you
understand what that means?'
She nodded.
'That's it then,' he said.
