I've Got You Under My Skin

39

Bruno woke on Tuesday morning at six, aware that he was getting closer and closer to the moment of glory when he could take his final revenge.

He turned on the television as he prepared his spartan breakfast. He was allowed to keep a small refrigerator in his room. He plugged in the coffeemaker, then poured yogurt and cereal into a bowl.

After the hard news and a dozen commercials, he heard what he had been waiting to hear. “The pilot for the Under Suspicion series is presently being filmed at the estate of Robert Powell. Twenty years after the Graduation Gala the four honorees have gathered to appear on a television program to protest their innocence in the death of beautiful socialite Betsy Bonner Powell.”

Bruno laughed aloud, a raspy, mirthless sound. Yesterday he had spoken with one of the surprisingly talkative television crew. He had said that they would be filming today and tomorrow. Tonight the graduates would stay overnight. They would be on camera, seated in the den as they had been twenty years ago. Then tomorrow morning they would be filmed at a farewell breakfast.

And while they were having breakfast, Bruno would emerge from the pool house with his rifle and take aim at her.

Bruno thought of that day long ago when, as a kid in Brooklyn, he had hung around the guys he knew were in the mob. He had a job as a busboy in the diner where some of them had breakfast every morning.

He heard a couple of them bragging about how they could shoot the apple off the head of William Tell’s kid, but with a rifle, not an arrow. That was when Bruno bought a rifle and a pistol secondhand and started practicing.

Six months later, when he was clearing the table, he told the two guys who had been boasting that he’d like to show them how good a shot he was. They laughed at him, but one of them said, “You know, kid, I don’t like people wasting my time with bragging. If you want to show off, I’ll give you a try.”

And that was how he was hired by the mob.

Bruno could take out Laurie Moran anytime, but he wanted to be sure the cameras would be rolling when she slumped over.

He slurped his coffee in anticipation of that moment.

The policeman in that squad car on the back road would come rushing over the fence and run toward the dining room. The television crew, too. When they were all past the pool house Bruno would leave by the back door and be over the fence in seconds.

It would take him only four minutes to jog to the public parking lot at the train station. The lot was only a block from the room he was sitting in right now.

He had chosen the car he would steal, a Lexus station wagon whose owner parked it at seven every morning to get on the seven-fifteen train to Manhattan.

Bruno would be driving away before they had even figured out where the shot had come from.

The owner wouldn’t report the car missing until Thursday evening.

Bruno was so busy going over his plan that he did not even realize his coffee cup was empty.

What were the possibilities of failure?

Of course there were a few. A policeman might not be able to scale the fence. In that case he’d be sure to challenge me, Bruno thought. I don’t want to have to shoot him. The noise would bring the other cop back. But if I used the butt of the rifle, I’d have all the time I need…

The element of surprise, the confusion over Laurie slumping over, blood beginning to pour from her head-all of this would work in his favor.

I might be caught, Bruno admitted to himself, and that would permanently end any hope of eliminating Timmy. But if I get away with it, I’ll take care of him fast. My luck won’t hold out forever.

By hacking into Leo Farley’s computer, Bruno knew that Timmy was at camp, and even knew which tent he was in and every detail of its layout. But even if he could get into the camp during the night and kidnap Timmy, Laurie would be notified in minutes, and he’d never be able to get near her. Timmy had to come second.

Bruno shrugged. He was sure that old lady had heard his threat, “Your mother’s next, then it’s your turn.” He’d have to stick to that plan.

He hadn’t checked Leo’s phone since yesterday, not that Leo had much to say to anyone.

Bruno listened to the recording of Leo’s call to the police chief last night. Leo Farley was in Mount Sinai Hospital in intensive care.

Bruno began to consider the possibilities this suggested.

Then he began to smile.

Of course, of course, it would work. It would have to work. He could pull it off.

When Laurie was at the farewell breakfast, Bruno would come out of the pool house holding Timmy’s hand-and pointing a gun at his head.