Read Online The Gift of the Dragon by Michael Murray - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Murray
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with Sangerman?”
“Yeah. That mission was a surprise. I thought your pet assassin reported that he redacted her years ago.”
“It appears Grant did not finish the job,” Franklin said.
He pulled an envelope of photos from his jacket pocket and slid them over the table to Trevor. “These are the photos Callan sent us to show that he killed Sara Moore.” Trevor dumped out the photos and fanned them on the table.
“How’d he get these pictures?”
“He is an electronics freak. He had a camera attached to his gun. He knows I like to see proof before I pay!” Franklin pointed at one of the pictures. “The second girl he shot is Sangerman.”
Trevor looked at the enhanced photo that his father pointed to. In the green hues of an infrared camera, it showed a woman with her head bleeding from a bullet wound as she fell into the river below. “That sure looks as if it hurt.”
“Too bad it was less than fatal.” Franklin handed him a second stack of pictures.
“Where did these photos come from?” Trevor said.
“We sent a few people to look for her after we got the pictures from Callan. Last week, one of them heard a rumor about a woman with a head wound at some hippie retreat in Oregon. A place with hot springs where everyone goes naked and does yoga.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Your chair would short out, and you would need a forklift to get it back on dry land,” Franklin said and snorted. “These are the photos our contact sent us. She has a nasty scar but otherwise looks fine. They said she seems to have lost her memory. That is why I asked you to send Ned to meet her, find out if she still has her wits. And the key.”
“He said she seemed sharp enough but a little out of it. Not the old Alice who could scratch diamonds with her claws.” Trevor refilled his glass. “Ned saw she had the key. He could have taken it, but you told him to give her an address instead.”
“Right. Part of the plan. The address will lead her to Guzman. Callan is watching Guzman. So is Northwin. When she shows up, she will draw Callan out, and then we will have him.” The lie about an alliance between Northwin and McAlister came easy.
Franklin sighed, imagining what would happen when his sentimental son learned Laird Northwin’s actual role in the plan.
Three birds with one stone.
“Her being alive will mess things up. The courts were told all Sangerman’s children died,” Trevor said. He held up the second photo. “If her memory’s gone, she may have brain damage too.”
Franklin tapped his head with two fingers. “I can not see how she would be awarded a claim in any court. With that kind of wound, it should be easy for our lawyers to convince a judge that she is incompetent. She is better off dead.”
“Well, speaking for the damaged, I disagree. Death is final while, with life, there are more… possibilities. I hope Alice Sangerman is still in there somewhere. I’d like to talk to her again.”
“Trevor, son, sometimes I wonder what side you are on.”
“Father, that hurts. I love my family and all that we stand for.”
Franklin looked him in the eye. “Callan tried to kill her once. He will not want her to survive.”
“She’s innocent, Father. She had nothing to do with Sangerman's madness.”
“Well, that matters little. She is supposed to be dead. If she stays alive, there will be a great deal of explaining to do. About things we do not want to explain. Understand?”
“Alice Sangerman must die?”
“This we must do if we are to have the prize.”
“You mean keep our current positions?”
Franklin McAlister rested his chin on his hand. “Right. To keep things as they should be.”
“But if she doesn’t remember who she is?”
“That may well be temporary. I will not depend on her real or feigned memory loss. There is too much at stake!”
“Why didn’t we just have Ned kill her, then? Then we’d have the
“Yeah. That mission was a surprise. I thought your pet assassin reported that he redacted her years ago.”
“It appears Grant did not finish the job,” Franklin said.
He pulled an envelope of photos from his jacket pocket and slid them over the table to Trevor. “These are the photos Callan sent us to show that he killed Sara Moore.” Trevor dumped out the photos and fanned them on the table.
“How’d he get these pictures?”
“He is an electronics freak. He had a camera attached to his gun. He knows I like to see proof before I pay!” Franklin pointed at one of the pictures. “The second girl he shot is Sangerman.”
Trevor looked at the enhanced photo that his father pointed to. In the green hues of an infrared camera, it showed a woman with her head bleeding from a bullet wound as she fell into the river below. “That sure looks as if it hurt.”
“Too bad it was less than fatal.” Franklin handed him a second stack of pictures.
“Where did these photos come from?” Trevor said.
“We sent a few people to look for her after we got the pictures from Callan. Last week, one of them heard a rumor about a woman with a head wound at some hippie retreat in Oregon. A place with hot springs where everyone goes naked and does yoga.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Your chair would short out, and you would need a forklift to get it back on dry land,” Franklin said and snorted. “These are the photos our contact sent us. She has a nasty scar but otherwise looks fine. They said she seems to have lost her memory. That is why I asked you to send Ned to meet her, find out if she still has her wits. And the key.”
“He said she seemed sharp enough but a little out of it. Not the old Alice who could scratch diamonds with her claws.” Trevor refilled his glass. “Ned saw she had the key. He could have taken it, but you told him to give her an address instead.”
“Right. Part of the plan. The address will lead her to Guzman. Callan is watching Guzman. So is Northwin. When she shows up, she will draw Callan out, and then we will have him.” The lie about an alliance between Northwin and McAlister came easy.
Franklin sighed, imagining what would happen when his sentimental son learned Laird Northwin’s actual role in the plan.
Three birds with one stone.
“Her being alive will mess things up. The courts were told all Sangerman’s children died,” Trevor said. He held up the second photo. “If her memory’s gone, she may have brain damage too.”
Franklin tapped his head with two fingers. “I can not see how she would be awarded a claim in any court. With that kind of wound, it should be easy for our lawyers to convince a judge that she is incompetent. She is better off dead.”
“Well, speaking for the damaged, I disagree. Death is final while, with life, there are more… possibilities. I hope Alice Sangerman is still in there somewhere. I’d like to talk to her again.”
“Trevor, son, sometimes I wonder what side you are on.”
“Father, that hurts. I love my family and all that we stand for.”
Franklin looked him in the eye. “Callan tried to kill her once. He will not want her to survive.”
“She’s innocent, Father. She had nothing to do with Sangerman's madness.”
“Well, that matters little. She is supposed to be dead. If she stays alive, there will be a great deal of explaining to do. About things we do not want to explain. Understand?”
“Alice Sangerman must die?”
“This we must do if we are to have the prize.”
“You mean keep our current positions?”
Franklin McAlister rested his chin on his hand. “Right. To keep things as they should be.”
“But if she doesn’t remember who she is?”
“That may well be temporary. I will not depend on her real or feigned memory loss. There is too much at stake!”
“Why didn’t we just have Ned kill her, then? Then we’d have the
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