In The Killer's Sights: Thriller
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Thriller by Neal Chadwick
The size of this ebook corresponds to 140 pages of paperback.
She is as beautiful as sin - and as deadly as a bullet in the head. She eliminates the toughest gangsters and pulls a bloody trail behind her. Who sent this killer girl? The investigators are following her heels - and are tracking down an unscrupulous conspiracy.
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In The Killer's Sights - Neal Chadwick
1
S top, lady! Don't be in such a hurry!
The taller of the two bodyguards held an Uzi in place. His partner's hand instinctively slipped to the .45 automatic, whose grip protruded from a Quick Draw Holster.
The young woman facing the two gorillas provocatively put an arm in her hip.
Don't tell me I'm scaring you, boys,
she breathed mockingly. Her black hair was pinned up. A precious mink caressed her figure.
We're just careful,
the guy with the automatic whispered between his teeth.
The dark-haired beauty raised her head confidently.
Mr Barese is expecting me. But you're welcome to search me, boys!
She opened the mink. Underneath, she was completely naked. I don't think your boss has anything against my armament!
A seductive smile played around her full lips. But in her eyes, it was cold and glittering. After all, the big boss will have a beautiful sight, before he dies, she was cynically thinking about it.
2
The two gorillas stared at the full breasts for a few seconds. The sexy figure of the dark-haired let the guys swallow. The Uzi man was the first to regain his composure and pointed to the rather large handbag. Smiling, she handed him the piece of crocodile leather. The gorilla took a look inside, took out the short umbrella that was inside.
The second bodyguard contacted his boss via his headset.
It's true, Mr Barese is expecting the lady.
The Uzi man put the umbrella back in the handbag and gave it back to the dark-haired man.
All right, lady.
With you too? You look so pale.
She pulled the coat back together. The door's been opened. She went through it. A lanky guy in a dark turtleneck sweater brought her into the living room, which alone was bigger than two average New York flats put together. But for the great Billy Barese, only the best was good enough. And that included a luxury suite in the New Palace Hotel, right on Broadway when he was in New York.
The dark-haired woman casually registered that the man in the turtleneck sweater was wearing a Beretta in his shoulder holster. I'll probably have to kill him, too, she thought. Billy Barese had taken a seat in one of the oversized leather armchairs in the living room. He weighed almost two hundred kilos. A true colossus of a man. He gave her a disparaging look. A deep furrow formed on Barese's forehead.
I told Mickey I wanted a blonde girl!
All in action, Mr Barese,
replied the dark-haired woman. But I don't think you'll be disappointed!
She placed the handbag in an armchair and let the coat slide from her shoulders with a casual movement. She had to go on the offensive now to keep the situation under control. Barese stared at the girl. He was visibly impressed.
Well, did I promise too much?
No, you didn't.
My name is Monique. But you can call me any other way you like!
Sweat beads stood on Barese's forehead. He turned to the smart one. Leave us alone, Tony!
All right, boss!
Tony left the room.
Barese wiped his face. Come here to me,
he told Monique.
Not so fast, Mr Barese!
I want it fast!
Monique took her handbag, pulled out the folding umbrella.
Hey, what are you doing?
Barese asked.
Mickey told me you had a preference for certain games!
Yes, I do, but...
Her movements were lightning fast. The covering of the umbrella was loosened and moved into the pocket. With a few simple steps, what was left of the umbrella
turned into a one-handed crossbow.
Billy Barese wanted to scream for help.
But he didn't get a chance anymore.
Monique pulled the trigger.
A clacking sound was heard. With murderous force Barese drove the steel bolt shot by the crossbow directly into the open mouth. Blood spattered.
Barese slumped down.
Monique picked up the mink and put it back on. From one of the pockets she took out a second steel-clad bolt, which she inserted into the crossbow.
She grabbed her purse and left the living room.
The lanky Tony was sitting in the anteroom reading the paper.
He looked up in amazement, but could no longer even think of tearing out his Beretta.
Monique pointed the crossbow at him and pulled the trigger.
It clicked and the bolt hit the smart one right in the chest. He pierced the body, then penetrated the chair upholstery and shredded into the carpet.
When she stepped out into the hallway a little later, she had long since collapsed the crossbow again and hidden it in her handbag.
That was fast,
said one of the two bodyguards smugly. It was the Uzi man.
Monique turned to him with a lewd smile.
You should know your boss better by now, boys!
Why?
Well, he's got a thing for fast numbers.
Her voice clanked like ice.
Moments later the dark-haired woman had reached the lift.
3
When we reached the crime scene at the New Palace Hotel on Broadway, all hell broke loose. The responsible Homicide Squad was represented there with several officials as well as the colleagues from the Scientific Research Division, the central New York Recognition Service.
My colleague Milo Tucker and I were on our way to the federal building at Federal Plaza every morning when the call from Mr. McKee reached us. The boss had ordered us here and had informed us in rough outlines about what was going on here.
Billy Barese, the heavyweight godfather of Chicago in the truest sense of the word, had been murdered.
And when someone like Barese died an unnatural death, it usually meant a lot of trouble.
Lieutenant Roger Kingsley of the Homicide Squad of the responsible Police Precinct greeted us and led us into the $500 suite where Barese had been killed.
In the anteroom there was an armchair with a fist-sized hole in the backrest. The area was covered in blood.
A newspaper shred was lying around.
That's where one of the bodyguards got hit,
Kingsley explained. The coroner was already here to take the bodies to the lab.
How many bodies?
I went after.
Kingsley nodded. There's a total of two dead. We interviewed the other bodyguards posted out in the hall. Barese was supposedly last visited by a dark-haired girl.
Has a sketch been taken?
I went after it.
Yes.
And these bodyguards?
Staying here at the hotel, too. But of course a few price ranges below this luxury suite. The personal details are recorded.
We followed Kingsley into the living room afterwards.
The lieutenant stretched out his arm.
Barese was sitting there,
Kingsley said, pointing to a blood-soaked leather armchair with an almost fist-sized hole in its back.
What caliber was Barese shot with?
Milo pointed out involuntarily. Those must have been some big ones.
It wasn't a firearm at all,
Lieutenant Kingsley explained. The projectiles are on their way to the ballistics lab. But at first glance, they could be steel bolts like those fired from a crossbow.
And this dark-haired lady could have had one of those things with her?
I asked in surprise.
The bodyguards say they searched the woman thoroughly. But it's not entirely plausible to me either.
We're gonna go get these bodyguards,
I promised.
Kingsley turned towards the window front. Two things are still interesting.
What's that?
First, the room was bugged.
Barese is a big player in organized crime. Drugs and money laundering are his specialties, but he's been romping about everywhere else where there's a good return,
Milo said. It's possible he was wiretapped by colleagues. Either the FBI Field Office Chicago or the DEA colleagues who have been on his heels for a long time.
To be on the safe side, ask your colleagues, but I don't believe in it.
I raised my eyebrows. Why not?
The bugs used are quite primitive. That looked to me like the work of amateurs - at least in terms of telecommunications. By the way, the phone was tapped, too. And then there's the story of how we were notified...
I'm all ears, Lieutenant.
"A certain James F. Cramer has his