Timecaster

THIRTY-FOUR

The Mastermind listens as Talon watches the timecast. The incompetent cops hadn’t found all of the bugs. He wishes he could see Talon’s face, wishes he’d used video cameras instead of listening devices.

Watching half a million people disappear with the press of a button was a heady experience. But they weren’t real to him. They were numbers. Statistics. The first hash mark of many.

But Talon…

The mouse is personal. Being able to see him suffer will be a treat for the Mastermind.

Not now. But soon.

The Mastermind is interrupted by a knock at his door. The cops? Did they know?

No. It’s reporters. They want him to comment. He declines with a smile.

Later, when they realize how close they were to the real Butcher of Boise, they’ll want to hang themselves.

If they aren’t already dead by then.

He resumes listening to Talon. It has taken the mouse longer than expected, but he’s followed the trail of crumbs.

Soon the trail will end. And the cat and mouse will meet.

Watching half a million vanish from a distance won’t be nearly as much fun as watching one man die up close.