Faces of the Gone

With all the vacant lots in Newark, New Jersey-and there were thousands of them-the Director could afford to be picky.

He wanted one near public housing, a red herring for police, who always began their search for suspects in the projects. It had to be dark at night, lest any random passers-by had inquisitive eyes. But it also needed to be in plain sight once day broke. The sooner the bodies were discovered, the sooner the Director’s message could be delivered.

After a brief but diligent search, the Director found the ideal vacant lot on Ludlow Street, in a forgotten South Ward neighborhood. There were projects in every direction, including some of the city’s most notorious. The streetlights had been shot out, so there was no worrying about late-night voyeurs. And-this was perfect-it was next to a church. The shock value would be priceless.

With his second in command, Monty, the Director rounded up the four dealers. They came to their designated places as instructed, thinking they were simply collecting their weekly shipment. They loaded themselves in the back of the van and put on their blindfolds, all part of their training. Then they traveled in silence toward the vacant lot, because the Director ordered them not to speak.

At their destination, the Director guided the still-blindfolded dealers to the rear of the vacant lot and made them form a line. He told them it was new training, instructing them not to be alarmed if they heard gunfire.

Then he shot each one in the back of the head.

There had been no witnesses. No one could see them through all that unlit gloom. There were no shell casings left behind-the Director collected those before they hit the ground. He didn’t even have blood on his gloves. The job was that clean.

As soon as the last body dropped, the Director gave Monty a digital camera and ordered him to take close-ups of each dead face. Monty balked at first. He worried about the flash attracting attention. But the Director reminded him it was an essential part of the plan.

Because punishing the four dealers-all of whom had strayed and broken a vital clause in their contract-wasn’t enough. It had to be made clear to the others in the organization, especially those who might consider straying themselves, that this was the price for disobedience.

Thank goodness, the Director chuckled to himself, the news media would seize on this sensational story and help deliver his message. He couldn’t have bought better advertising.