Religion [J.P.M.]

four.

When I reached March's door, I knocked and waited.  Seconds later, the door opened and he had a wine glass in his hand.  "You look fetching this evening.  Do come in."

I step inside and take a deep breath, inhaling all of the scents of the room.  "You know, ammonia does its job at getting rid of the blood stains, but to get rid of the scent . . . however decadent it is . . . one would use a strong cognac."

"I see you've learned a thing or to since your last visit to the Hotel Cortez." James takes my coat and hangs it on the rack near the door.  "I remember the first life you took, just as it was yesterday.  You were messy . . . sloppy. . . but you got the job done.  Quite the young protégé."

"And for that I have only you and my father to thank." I cross the room, idling around the set dinner table.  The napkins and tablecloth were red, much like a lot of the furniture in his room.  "Although I would think that a professional like yourself would hide the evidence better."

He follows, pulling out my chair for me.  "Alas, it is not the scent of evidence you inhale, it is your dinner." Pulling the metal cover off of the plate in front of me, he reveals a pulsating heart on the pearl-white plate.

I smile, taking a seat.  "Oh, James, you always know exactly what I crave."

Sitting in the chair across the table from me, he places his napkin in his lap.  "Now, we should get to the professional aspects of this affair."

"You know as well as I do, both of our beings never leave the professional status." I begin to dissect the heart with my steak knife.  "It's what allows us to work together so comfortably."

"Yes. . . Strictly professional." He clears his throat.  "Well, you see, things are a little shaken up here.  There's a man, Will Drake, who is the supposed new owner of our Hotel Cortez.  He is organizing a little show in our lobby, something in regards to fashion.  I do believe he is going to ruin the life that we've all built here."

I stop cutting and put my knife down.  "Really?  A fashion show?  And what do you want me to do about it?"

He reaches into his jacket and pulls a photograph out of his breast-pocket.  He holds it up in front of me.  "I want you to kill him."

Leaning forward, I study Will Drake.  "I can do that."

"I have no doubt in my mind that you can.  You're a brilliant woman."

"I'm flattered." I take a sip of the wine that I hadn't seen him pour into my glass.  "When do you need him dead?"

He raises his glass.  "The sooner the better, like I always say."

Laughing, I clink my glass against his.  "I'm sure you'll be more than satisfied when I'm finished."

A witty half-smile appeared on his face and he set down his glass.  "As am I."