Conspiracy

17

The shooter had had a clear, easy shot from the fourth-floor window. He’d have been able to see the senator’s car arrive and had a good angle as he walked up toward the door. The shooter would have been able to see the decoy as well, assuming he had walked in the middle of the sidewalk.

Charlie Dean knelt at the window, studying the view.

Eighty-five yards, with traffic, people, distractions — it wasn’t surprising that the shooter had missed. Forget the fact that the rifle and ammunition were off-the-shelf: adrenaline would have been the shooter’s real enemy. How many people could even learn to control their breath under stress? It wasn’t

easy. The instructors told Charlie he had a knack for it, but he didn’t think it was easy.

And yet the setup seemed perfect. The shot was clear; there was no trace of a bullet, no trace of anyone in the room.

That argued that the shooter was, if not a professional, someone who took extreme care, who’d thought about the setup a great deal.

“What did he use to steady the gun?” Dean said, stepping back. “If he didn’t shoot from the window ledge, what did he use? Did he have a tripod? No way he took an offhand shot.”

“He puts something on the radiator there,” said Lia, pointing. “Takes it with him when he’s gone.”

“Nobody sees him.”

Dean went back to the window and stared down. Maybe the guy was a pro, but one out of practice, a man who hadn’t killed in a long time. Someone like himself, who knew the theory but had lost the steps, who got too excited when the moment came. Who’d missed — just as Dean had when the lion charged.

“Charlie Dean, Charlie Dean — what are you thinking?” Lia asked.

“I don’t know,” said Dean as he rose.

He scanned the block, looking for anything that might have distracted the shooter. Then Dean did the same thing in the room. It was a high-ceilinged, empty office; the linoleum on the floor was stained but swept clean, the walls bare except for shadows where photos had once hung.

“So?” asked Lia.

“Let’s go see what the Secret Service people have to say.”