Night kills

36

Palmer Stone sat in his office at E-Bliss.org and looked across his desk at Victor Lamping. For the first time, he was worried about his business partner and longtime associate. It wasn't so much anything Victor had done. It was more his behavior. He seemed distant sometimes, distracted. This could be bad for business.

On a table near the office window, a small TV was tuned to local cable news. The volume was muted, but closed-caption lettering appeared at the bottom of the screen. It was all about politics, sports, celebrity name-calling, a man who'd set a hamburger-eating record.

"How do you explain it?" Palmer asked.

He wasn't yet aware that Charlotte Lowenstein's torso had been found. What was the delay? He'd expected the news on TV hours ago.

Victor knew what he was talking about. "I don't explain it," he said. "Gloria and I did our work, including placing the object where it was sure to be discovered. I wouldn't worry. It has to be found soon. It isn't the kind of thing people consciously step over."

Stone's desk chair was located where he could see his reflection in a small framed mirror. He glanced at the suave middle-aged man in the mirror and automatically adjusted his imported silk tie. He always dressed well, leaving his suit coat on in the office, though it was rare that a client or anyone else ever dropped in. Almost all of E-Bliss.org's business was done via the Internet.

His hand came away from the straightened tie knot as he saw the increasingly familiar faraway look transform Victor's eyes. That look seemed to occur off and on during the first few days after a client deletion. Where had Victor gone? He certainly wasn't in the office.

Daydreaming didn't suit Victor, who, like Stone, was a dedicated businessman who let nothing interfere with the pursuit of profit. What Victor and Gloria did in the course of their work for E-Bliss.org was for them simply part of the job. Or so Stone had thought. He hadn't seen Gloria since the Charlotte Lowenstein deletion, but he doubted there was anything different about her behavior. Victor seemed to be another matter.

Stone smiled, making him look like a kindly father on a TV sitcom. "Something bothering you, Victor?"

Victor's attentiveness returned like a lamp switching on. He was back in the here and now. "No. Why do you ask?"

Stone shrugged. "You seem preoccupied lately."

Victor, in some ways a younger version of Stone, smiled like the dutiful son in the same sitcom. "I'm fine, Palmer."

"And Gloria?"

"The same."

"The messy part of the work you two do, it's simply business, Victor. Like a medical procedure. The termination of life, the dissection, and the diversionary act-it's all about money, and nothing else. Of course, I can understand how you might form something like an affection for the deleted client."

"I guard against that from the beginning," Victor said.

"Of course you do. What about Gloria?"

"You'd have to ask her."

"Do you think she might have gotten more involved than she should have with the last client? Charlotte?"

Victor laughed. "Palmer, she's…Gloria." He placed his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. "What's bothering you, Palmer?"

"In the kind of work you and Gloria undertake, there are two dangers. One is developing a revulsion for what you must do. The other is getting to like that part of the job too much."

"There's no danger of either of those things happening," Victor said. "Not with me, and not with Gloria."

"Fine," Stone said, sitting back in his leather upholstered executive chair and beaming with satisfaction.

But he'd seen the change of light in Victor's eyes and knew Victor was lying. The question was, who had the problem? Was it Gloria, or Victor? And what was the problem-revulsion, or too much attraction?

"Ah!" Stone said.

He was staring at the TV. Local cable news was running the story about another Torso Murders victim. The torso of an unidentified woman had been found only hours ago on the Lower East Side. Palmer knew the police would soon note the similarities of the crime with the other Torso Murders, and they would match at least one of the two bullets removed from in or near the heart with the gun that had killed the previous victims.

Victor was also staring at the TV. "Feel better now, Palmer?"

"Infinitely," Stone said. "Nothing makes me happier than business as usual."

If only Victor were as usual.