Stolen Kill

The Stressful Life of An Assassin

Mary was up until midnight sorting out the file. Tomorrow, she'd have a closer look at his schedule, and fit it in with her own. It usually took her about a week before she killed. First she had to sort out all sorts of little details. She had to be really picky.

It was one o' clock the next day. Mary was in her study, looking over Kraven's profile. He was an interesting man, and had more to look through than most. By the looks of his schedule (pretty boring, actually) Mary decided she could probably assassinate him between next Thursday and Saturday, which gave her nine days to plan everything out.

Mary rubbed her temples. She couldn't kill him on a weekday, because he was mostly at work, and always took a cab home. He lived in a block of flats, and a police officer lived next door. So that meant she had to kill him next Saturday, or she would lose her chance. On Saturdays he always went to one particular address. It was an abandoned warehouse, which he had purchased recently. That was Mary's best shot.

But it would still be tricky. On average, he lingered there for about five hours, from ten in the morning to three in the afternoon. He was always driven there by a friend or acquaintance, but it was almost always a different person every time. The vehicle sometimes stuck around for up to an hour, but the driver never entered the building. Kraven usually gave them envelopes or packages to deliver. He made them run errands for him. They left, and he went inside the warehouse. A different person came to pick him up at quarter to five - unusually, this was always the same car. The license plate checked out to be a police officer's car.

This left Mary with only three hours and forty-five minutes. She had to wait for at least ten minutes after his driver left him in the morning before killing him, and had to kill him at least fifteen minutes before his police officer came for him.

Yes, the police officer. Mary would have to be especially careful about covering her tracks if a police officer was the first person to see him dead. She couldn't remove the body. She'd have to kill him in the warehouse. And she'd have to make it look like a tragic accident. To do that, she'd have to take a look around the warehouse first, while he was gone.

Mary sighed. This would take a while.

There came a sharp knock at the door. Mary hastily shoved the file in her drawer and slammed it shut, just as John Watson poked his head around the corner.

"John," she smiled wearily.

"You've been in here for hours. I thought you might like some coffee, just the way you like it," he grinned, stepping into the study and raising a mug.

"Oh, yes, please," Mary smiled. She stood up to take the mug from him, then set it on the desk, and sat back down. John seated himself on a small sofa opposite her.

John reached out and rested a hand on her belly. "Hey, baby. If you're half as hard-working as you're mother, you can consider me the laziest of the family. Our family. You're going to make us a family, a proper family. I can't wait to meet you. My little girl."

Mary smiled. She loved it when John talked to the baby like that. It was sweet.

"So," he said, as she took a sip of coffee, "I was thinking... Why don't I take you out tomorrow? We can go to the beach, or something, and then take a walk along the pier, and eat fish and chips for tea."

Mary smiled. Hell, she'd love that. But... "I'm sorry honey, I can't tomorrow. I have something important to do."

Her husband tried to hide it, but his face visibly fell. "Oh, that's OK. So, what are you doing that's more important than spending some time with the most important man in your life?"

Mary laughed guiltily. "I have to take a look around a warehouse."