The Sanctuary

26

“SEVEN BULLETS LEFT,’’ I said, staring at the bloodied tapestry under the judge’s chair. He was being stubborn and I’d felt compelled to put a second bullet through his other foot, into the subfloor beneath the thick green carpet. They were hard jackets and passed through cleanly without making too much of a mess.

But none of that lessened the judge’s pain.

Keith gave up trying to break the door down after the second shot, when I’d taken a moment to explain what I was doing.

I sat in the chair, unable to steady my trembling hands. “The nice thing about losing toes is that you can cover them up with good shoes. With good therapy no one but you will even know someone shot them off. But I hear it’s hard to walk if you lose too many, especially the big toes.”

He was sweating and his face was flushed. Tears of pain leaked down his cheeks.

“You’re done,” he growled through clenched teeth.

“Not really. Because if I still can’t get you to talk, I’m going for the biggest toe.” I gave his crotch a significant glance. “I really don’t want to do that, but I hope you understand now that I can’t control myself. This is something I have to do.”

“You can’t get away with this.”

“But you did, didn’t you? You put your son back on the street, and he went back and killed that poor boy. You don’t have to confess that. I just want to know how you’re connected to Basal. That’s all. Think about it. I’m not going to incriminate you. I’d go to prison if what I’ve done here ever came out. I’d have to spill all the beans and there’d be a full investigation into both of us. We’re in the same boat, so we have to keep this all private—me and my crazy DNA and you with your secret. Just tell me and we’ll leave. I’m not going to kill you, even though that’s what we were sent to do. I’m not a violent person.”

He was looking at me as if I was a complete nut, and that was fine by me. The crazier he thought I was, the better.

I kept telling myself it was okay. That I had to do this, that I’d already gone too far to turn back, that this man did hold the key to Danny’s life, that in some ways Danny was in prison because this man had pushed Danny beyond the brink when he’d cut his son loose. But I didn’t really know if any of that was true, and I was feeling nauseated.

The judge sat in his chair, chest rising and falling as he tried to control his agony.

“So I have to use another bullet?” I asked.

“This is absurd.” The last word was a snarl.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

He only glared at me. So I stood up, leaned over, and pressed the gun to the tip of his right shoe. I was just starting to squeeze the trigger when he spit in my hair. Dirty germy spit.

My crazed DNA reasserted itself. I jerked the gun up and shoved it into his crotch.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “I know what your son did. You think Danny killed him and now you’re after Danny. Tell me what you know about Basal or I’m going to pull this trigger.”

He swore.

“You don’t think I’ll do it? Like son, like father.”

His jowls were trembling, and for a moment I felt sorry for the man. What if I was wrong about him?

“You have three seconds. Two. One…”

“Okay,” he blurted. “I’ll tell you!”

“Tell me!”