Dog Tags

CHAPTER 83

ALAN LANDON WAS ALREADY WAITING IN THE DESERTED BUILDING WHEN CHAPLIN ARRIVED.

Chaplin was surprised when he saw him, because Landon’s car was not there. Perhaps a limo dropped him off and would come back for him; nothing that people with this kind of money did surprised Chaplin.

“Sorry if I’m late,” Chaplin said, though he knew that he wasn’t.

Landon looked at his watch. “You’re not late. Thanks for coming. Sorry I can’t offer you anything to drink.”

“No problem.”

“This situation has the potential to become a bit of a mess,” Landon said.

“There’s no way Carpenter can prove anything. These are foreign companies, fully insulated. No one can tie you to them, and all I’m doing is executing trades for a client.” Chaplin believed what he was saying; he’d had time to think it through, and his confidence increased in the process.

“I’m not sure I agree,” Landon said.

“Why not?”

“Because there are people who know the truth, and people have a tendency to talk.”

“Who are you talking about?” Chaplin asks.

“Well, for instance, you.”

A quick flash of panic hit Chaplin, but he recovered quickly. “I’m certainly not going to say anything; I’d wind up going to jail.”

“Unless you got immunity in return for turning me in.”

“Come on, Alan. I would never do that.”

“Do you believe him?” Landon asked.

Chaplin was confused. “Do I believe who?”

“Not for me to say.” The voice was coming from behind Chaplin, and he whirled to see who it was. It was M, and though Chaplin had never met him, he was scared to death. The gun in M’s hand told him all he needed to know.

Chaplin turned back to Landon. “Alan, please…”

“I’m sorry, Jonathan. When it comes to money, I’m a risk taker. But in things like this, I don’t take chances.”

“But I swear I won’t say anything. Please, Alan, I’m begging you.”

“Don’t, Jonathan, it’s unseemly. M…”

M didn’t hesitate; he fired three shots. All three hit Alan Landon directly in the chest, a grouping separated by no more than a few centimeters. Landon was blown back against the wall, dead long before he hit the ground. And long before he had time to realize what had happened.

It took Chaplin a moment to process what he had just witnessed, to try and understand why Landon was dead and he was still alive. It did not give him a feeling of safety; his instinct was that M was there to kill both of them.

He started to move toward the door, which was twenty feet away, way too far to get to in time.

“Hold it!” yelled M, and Chaplin froze. “Turn around,” said M, and Chaplin did just that.

To his surprise, M did not have the gun raised. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” M said. “As long as you keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.”

“I will. I swear.”

“So go home, and make sure the trades are executed as planned. Then you’re finished with this.”

“So I can leave now?”

“As soon as you help me clean this up.”

Which is what Chaplin did. And after they had wrapped Landon’s body in plastic, they carried the body together and placed it in M’s trunk.

“You can go now,” said M.

Chaplin drove off, and did not look back.