Requiem for an Assassin

19

DOX HAD BECOME adept at reading sounds and other signals on the boat. Whose footsteps belonged to whom; whose muffled voices. The vibration of the engine when they were at sea; its silence when they were in port. The slight dip and rise of the craft when someone stepped on or off it. He knew they were in a port right now, somewhere. Hilger and the blond dude were off the boat; only Uncle Fester and the young-looking guy were still aboard.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and knew from the sound it was Fester. He glanced up a moment later and there he was, looking in through the door window. Dox smiled at him to let him know he wasn’t afraid, and turned up both his hands to offer a double middle finger salute. He heard the lock turning, and Fester poked his head in.

“How you doing, Uncle Fester?” Dox asked, smiling as though the psycho were his best friend.

“I’m good, pendejo. I wanted you to know, I’m going to bring you a surprise.”

“Oh, Fester, you don’t have to put yourself out for me. I know you’ve got important things to do, you know, lawns to mow, fruit to pick, things like that.”

Fester reddened and Dox felt a rush of satisfaction. He had nothing against Mexicans or anyone else for that matter. It was just a good way to push Fester’s buttons.

Fester recovered and broke out in a hundred-watt psycho smile. “Ordinarily, I’d fuck you up for that. But…I think now I’ll wait until next time I see you. I’ll bring the surprise then. I just want you to have it to think about.”

Dox shook his head. “Fester, I’m disappointed in you. It’s sad that a first-class sadist such as yourself should have to resort to such crude and obvious strategies as trying to instill dread in the prisoner. You’ve been reading too many books on interrogation, I think that’s the problem.”

Fester reddened again, and Dox thought he might be onto something. Before he could follow up, Fester said, “Oh, one more thing. You know, we’re setting up your friend. He’s doing some jobs for us, and then we’re going to kill him. Should be just another day, maybe two. When he’s dead, we won’t need you anymore. I’m telling you because I want you to wonder every time I knock on your door. ‘Is he here to give me my surprise? Or is he going to gut me and let me bleed over the side to attract sharks before throwing me in?”’

“That’s more like it, Fester! See how you put some of your own special personality into it? That time, it didn’t feel like it came from a book. Keep practicing, and soon you’ll be able to terrorize any helpless, manacled prisoner you like. You’ll be an inspiration to sadists everywhere.”

Fester smiled. “Okay, pendejo. See you soon.” He closed the door and Dox listened to his footsteps as he went up the stairs.

He let out a long breath. Just because Fester had read it in a book, and it was crude and obvious, didn’t make it ineffective. Knowing Fester’s tactics, and provoking the man on top of it, was helping. But when that door closed, and the sound of footsteps receded, it was hard not to be scared.

Especially after that “See you soon.” Something had kept Fester from losing his temper just now, something he was looking forward to. Dox hated to think of what it might be.