Smoke and Mirrors

43

After hanging up, Hayden hatcher lifted his encrypted phone and dialed a number he had committed to memory.

“Yes?” the familiar voice said.

“It’s Hatcher. It appears we have another scented red toothpick left at the scene of a killing south of Memphis,” Hayden said. “This one is being handled by Bradley Barnett, the sheriff in Tunica County, Mississippi.”

“Who was the target?”

“A young black girl. Nineteen years of age. Shot from long distance with a rifle. Not like the others, is it? You said any reports of red, clove-flavored toothpicks at murder scenes. This makes four in fifteen months.”

“How did this one come in?”

“Through Alexa Keen, she’s in-”

“I know who she is,” the voice said. “You found out how?”

“Well, it was picked up via an overheard conversation.” He wouldn’t admit over the phone that she was under continuing internal surveillance ordered by Hayden at the behest of his benefactor. “She got a request for expedited DNA on the toothpick from a friend of hers. Are you familiar with Winter Massey? It seems he had a sample to compare it to.”

The only sound coming over the line was that of breathing.

“So the toothpick is connected to the man you’re looking for? The East German?” Hayden asked.

“We’ll deal with this. If anything else pops up, you will let me know immediately.” It wasn’t a question. The line clicked as the man hung up.

Hayden placed the phone in its receiver and rocked back in his chair.

He was excited. Pleasing his benefactor was the key to his amazing run of successful operations against terrorist cells inside the United States, its territories, and, most recently, Canada. His man had alerted Hayden to a Hamas cell that was bootlegging low-tax cigarettes from North Carolina to New York and other cities, and then to a group of amateur Canadian terrorists plotting to blow up targets across Canada, take over parliament and-as absurd as it sounded-behead the Canadian prime minister. Hayden had, as instructed, given the intelligence to the Canadian authorities, who had in turn given him personal credit for his assistance. It was this voice in the darkness that had put Hayden Hatcher this close to the throne.

Whoever this murderous East German toothpick dropper was, he was someone the shadow man’s group had been after for a long time-and he was someone his secretive friend clearly wanted very badly. Hayden certainly hoped they got him. And if all worked out as planned, he was confident that someday, as the man had insinuated on many occasions, Hayden Hatcher would be the director of the FBI.