Around a quarter to twelve on Monday night, a buzzer went off in Simon's bedroom to let him know the front gate was opening. He had thought this might happen. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand, got dressed, and padded down the hall in sock-clad feet. First he went into his study. His notebook was gone, just as he had suspected. Resting in a locked drawer in his polished wood desk was a long-barreled pistol. The drawer slid open. Its metal body was dark as an oil slick. Simon slipped it into the leather holster strapped around his shoulder, then closed the drawer and made his way quietly downstairs. If any of them were still in the house, he couldn't let them hear him. He'd come back for them later.
Slipping on his coat and shoes, Simon gritted his teeth against the cold and went out the garage. The white light of the moon made the damp blades of grass glisten. He hit the button for the garage door and watched it lift slowly. The black Cadillac waited for him inside. He slid behind the wheel, back sinking into the leather seat. The engine started with the low growl of a jungle cat and he cruised down his driveway, through the gates, and into the night.
Upon reaching the old man's house, he killed the engine and waited. He had seen the tail end of Andre's car jutting out of the back driveway as he came around the corner. He watched, cold and patient as a security camera, searching for any sign of movement. After about ten minutes of waiting, he had drifted into a sort of hypnotic trance, thoughts going in circles. Come out, come out, come out, come out. His knuckles were white, clenched around the wheel. That was when he heard the gunshots. A quick one-two punch of noise, then silence. A few seconds later, he watched three figures dart across the lawn and pile into the Honda. To his surprise, they were not carrying a safe. Had they found a way to crack it? He hadn't expected them to be smart enough for that, but maybe... Yet none of them were carrying bags either. To move that kind of cash would require a couple duffels or a very large suitcase at least. Had they brought it to the car before he got there and gone back in for some reason? That wouldn't make any sense. They were dumb, but not dumb enough to stick around when they already had the cash in hand. Now one was running back into the house. Another moment of silence. He came back out. The car revved and peeled out of the driveway.
Simon weighed his options. He could follow them. However, that could get very messy very quickly. And what if they didn't even have the money? No safe, no bags. Not to mention the gunshots. What had happened here? As the taillights faded down the road like a pair of red eyes, Simon stepped out of the driver's seat and started towards the house. The back door had been left open. Sloppy. Standing on the threshold, he scanned the scene in front of him. The kitchen was a Jackson Pollock painting of blood. A middle-aged man in a sweater lay reclining against the wall, deep red gradually but steadily seeping from a hole through his shoulder. He was alive, his breathing labored and ragged. His face was battered and a couple teeth lay nearby. A few feet away, there was a long, pointed metal rod, along with more blood and another tooth. Simon could make out two holes, one in the wall and another in the ceiling. He drew the pistol from his side and bent over the wounded man.
"What's your name?"
"Norman. I'm just the house sitter! I don't know anything! I won't say anything, I promise! Please don't hurt me any more! Please just call me an ambulance, please."
"Hello Norman." He lowered the gun and spoke calmly, as though to a small child. "My name's Simon. I'm not here to hurt you. I'll call you an ambulance very soon, but first I just need you to answer a few simple questions for me. Can you do that?" Norman nodded frantically. "Good. First I need you to tell me what happened here. Starting from the beginning, and with as much detail as you can remember."
"Who are you? Are... are you a cop?"
"I'm with the FBI." The lie passed over his lips easy as wine. "We've been following the people who broke into this house tonight for a while now. Any information you can offer will be extremely helpful in bringing them to justice. So, from the beginning please."
