Conduct in Question

Chapter 37

Tony determined to derive pleasure from this evening. Slow and careful preparations were key to his enjoyment. Having only killed women before, the prospect of killing a male was tantalizing.

The private elevator carried him down to the underground garage. He waved to Felix, the security guard, in his booth.

“Knocking off early, Mr. McKeown?” asked Felix, grinning and looking up from his lunch. Years of Felix’s life had been wasted, crammed into his little box to operate the cash register. There never had been a climax of sheer terror demanding bravery or daring. The world was filled with dead souls like Felix, whose lives were a long, unbroken string of gray days. To be alive, a soul had to seek challenge and respond with great imagination and daring, otherwise it would shrivel into a useless appendage.

But was it wrong to kill a child? The complexities of the question intrigued him. Should a first draft of a manuscript be destroyed? Should a sketch for a painting be dismissed as crude and without merit? A simple tune could develop into a concerto of stirring beauty. Such questions plagued the artist. At what point should a life be judged worthy?

He stopped in front of his red Jaguar. Carefully, finger by finger, he slid on his leather driving gloves. Unlocking the door of the car, he paused to admire its sleekness. After several years of ownership, the leather interior remained spotless. A flick of the wrist with the key, and the Jaguar responded with the low growl he loved. Grinning, he saluted Felix, who strolled in front of his box as if on a leash.

At street level, Tony turned sharply onto a deserted Richmond Street and into the glare of the sun hanging low in the sky. Pleasure crept through him as the Jaguar responded smoothly. Caressing the steering wheel, he turned south, into the shadows of tall buildings on University Avenue, toward his harborside condominium.

McKeown’s condo was on the twenty-fourth floor, facing the lake. He hated clutter, so the living room was furnished in the minimalist fashion. The color scheme mirrored the shades of pink, blue, gray, and charcoal in the sky, which blended with the shimmering expanse of water. Tonight, he studied the skyline to catch each transition of light and color. Later lights would begin to twinkle and flash at the island airport, not a half-mile offshore.

It was five-thirty. A timetable formed in his brain. He should be at the Deighton house by seven. With deliberation, he walked along the hallway, past the den. Stopping, he checked the door. As always, it was safely locked. Part of his ritual of pleasure was a visit to the den.

As he entered his bedroom, the image of Donnie, pale and scrawny, arose in his mind. The skin on his face was his most striking feature. It was whitish, almost waxy, and pockmarked. He shuddered at the prospect of the rest of the boy’s skin being cold and sweaty. Women’s skin was soft and warm. It bunched and bruised. Donnie’s neck would be hard and bony, like a chicken’s. Although he lusted for the kill, he struggled for dispassionate consideration of Donnie’s fate. Controlling the balance of reason and passion was essential, otherwise tragic consequences could occur.

Tony stood before his racks of suits and shirts. Reveling in finery, he caressed one sleeve and then another. For him, lack of appreciation of art indicated a dead and withered soul. Watching himself in the mirror, he removed his trousers. He lined the creases up and hung them in the closet. His charcoal suit was a bit too dressy. He laid the soft gray flannel suit on the bed and selected a shirt with a thin pink stripe. Satisfied, he put on a terrycloth robe and went into the bathroom.

He thought of business. His scheme was deceptively simple. With funds brought in from Buffalo and Hong Kong, through Zaimir, he acquired blocks of land in prime locations across the city. But St. Timothy’s nearly upset the whole scheme. The archbishop wanted to sell the church to a legitimate and unrelated company. Of course their application to the rezoning committee had to be scuttled and one of his own companies brought in.