The Last Option

This time Louis summoned Duncan to meet on the south side of Central Park. As always, the blue-eyed killer had arrived first and was waiting for him on one of the benches, but when Louis arrived an older woman walking a little Yorkshire dog came and sat next to Duncan, ahead of him. Louis motioned for him to follow and Duncan got up, walking a few feet behind him, until he caught up with him and they continued walking as if nothing had happened.

"You left the driver alive," Louis demanded. "He's a witness and can recognize you."

"I didn't think he would survive."

"Well, he survived. You must fix it."

"Have you already spoken to the police?"

"A certain captain West came to see me with one of his detectives. He asked me some routine questions about the investigation, nothing to worry about."

"Did he tell you if they had any suspects?"

"Apparently not. He said he would go to interview the driver, who had already woken up."

"And how long ago was that?"

"Yesterday morning. You are asking a lot of questions. You must make amends for your mistake!"

"I just wanted to know if they had any suspects. I was very careful not to be filmed by the security cameras in the area. Only the driver could recognize me, but apparently he didn't. The first thing the police do in their investigations is to present photos of the criminals to the witness to see if they recognize any faces. An acquaintance who hacks into police servers without their knowledge told me a few moments ago that they have no suspects in your cousin's case. That means the driver doesn't remember my face, or didn't see me well because of how quickly everything happened."

"Your face is not supposed to be in the police records. You must be invisible."

"I was also young and reckless, Mr. Randall. Maybe they have my face for some petty crime from my youth. The important thing is the driver apparently didn't recognize me, and that is an advantage."

"Well, you have to make sure he doesn't. Eliminate him."

"You should think better of it, sir. If I eliminate that man right now, the police would have reason enough to suspect that something bigger is happening, don't you think?"

"The police know someone murdered my cousin, his wife and his accomplices in cold blood and they don't know why, and they also know someone left a witness. It's no wonder if this someone also wants to eliminate that single witness. Anyway they are looking for him, what does one more death matter?"

"It's true, but it's a very great risk. It's a hospital, and there are security cameras there too."

"You'll know how to manage. We cannot risk this man suffers from temporary amnesia and at any moment remember your face. His name is Bernard Sullivan, and he's at the Mercy."

"Good. I'll see what I can do."

That said they parted in different directions.

Duncan had lied to Louis. He knew he was wanted by the FBI for the murder many years ago on US soil, more specifically in Washington, of an Israeli diplomat commissioned by the Iranian government. At that time there were two witnesses who saw him as he left the building from which he shot, but did nothing to them: an eight-year-old girl and her mother, who gave his description to the police. Since then he decided to change his appearance and identity and left the country for many years, actively working abroad, and then returning at the request of Louis Randall, who convinced him to work for him exclusively.

"Working on my own abroad, I make a lot of money, Mr. Randall," he told him at the time when he returned and met him at a small nightclub in Queens. "What can you offer me to make up for that loss I will have?"

"I'll pay you double what you charge for each job, and you won't be taking risks in all those countries where you work and they can sentence you to life imprisonment."

"I'm still taking a risk here. You have to give me something else to convince me to stay and work for you."

"And what do you want?"

Duncan stared into his eyes for a few seconds, after which he said, unabashedly and unashamedly:

"My sexual preference and tastes go beyond the traditional, Mr. Randall. You are a very handsome man, and from the way you act and speak, I would dare say we have similar tastes. It's seen you are very fine and delicate. Am I wrong?" It was the first time anyone had realized that Louis Randall was gay, as much as he tried to hide it, but instead of being upset, he was rather flattered.

"You are very detailed," he said, "but as you know, I have a reputation and an image to take care of, at least for now..."

"I will know how to be discreet. If you prefer, we can keep things at an acceptable distance. I repeat: you are a very handsome man, and if you want me to stay and work exclusively for you, I want this."

"For me there will be no problem in accepting your conditions. But you must always remember this: I'm the boss, and you work for me."

"As you order, sir," Duncan made the gesture of military salute by bringing his hand to his forehead, which Louis found a bit ridiculous but comical.

"How about we seal the deal?"

They both smiled and left the nightclub.

"Where we go?" Duncan asked once on the street.

"I'll feel more comfortable in my house," Louis said as they walked to his Mercedes parked nearby. "This will be the first and last time you will see where I live."

After the meeting in the park, Duncan decided to go to the Mercy to try to see the condition of his witness and evaluate the possibility of removing him from his path. He bought a hat, sunglasses and some flowers and headed to the hospital. When he arrived he asked at the reception for Bernard Sullivan and was given his room number, looked for the elevator and boarded it.

At that precise moment Bernard felt the urge to urinate and called a nurse. When she arrived she asked him the favor of keeping an eye on little Nathan while he went little by little to the bathroom to empty his bladder.

"You don't have to call me to take care of your son, Mr. Sullivan," said the nurse with a smile as she checked the sleeping baby. "You know nothing will happen to this adorable prince." "You never know," Bernard said also with a smile as he entered.

Duncan got out of the elevator and searched the room, walking slowly and looking at the numbers above the doors; when he got to the one they had told him he saw a nurse checking a crib and the baby inside and was surprised. He checked the room number again and saw there was no mistake. It was the room, but why was there a baby in it? He saw the empty bed and the rumpled sheets and realized there was someone with that baby in the room. Maybe a woman who had just given birth. He decided to ask the nurse for the occupant of it.

"Excuse me, nurse. Who is in this room? I'm somewhat confused." "Who are you looking for?"

"A friend, they told me it was this, but it seems not."

"This is Mr. Sullivan's room. He's in the bathroom right now."

Duncan decided for the moment his target wouldn't see him until he was clear about the baby. Why did this man have a baby in his room? He was confused.

"Oh! Excuse me," he said, feigning awkwardness and patting his forehead. "It's not my friend's room. Thanks!"

"Who are you looking for?" the nurse asked him as he walked away from the door. "Maybe I can help."

She didn't have time to finish the sentence, for Duncan was already heading for the elevator again.

When Bernard came out of the bathroom he asked the nurse who she was talking to, as he had heard the voices. "It was just a confused man. He already left."

Bernard was thoughtful for a few seconds and then decided not to give the matter more importance.