Professional and Personal Reasons

by Kevin James Miller

  Late at night, making sure they were not seen, Jack Berteau and Greg Cabot entered Greg's, the bar owned by the man who had found and employed the assassin-for-hire, Jack Berteau.

They entered through separate doors.

Cabot considered the killer, an odd figure with a thick moustache, and black scarf.

"So, did you do it?  Is she dead?"

"Of course, I did it, Mr. Cabot.  You only heard of me because of my 100% success rate in doing this several times a year, for ten years.  Unless she develops a voice loud enough to communicate from beyond the grave, she will never testify that you raped her.  But I don't like a client to be skeptical.   Check behind the bar."

Cabot did so. He found, in a sealed plastic bag, a severed left hand with a blue butterfly tatoo on the palm and a white scar between the knuckles of the index and middle fingers.

"Jesus!"

"Your mistress was a strong-willed woman devoted to playing the piano, Mr. Cabot.  Common sense will tell you I couldn't get that without having killed her."

"My God!"  Cabot placed the grisly package on the bartop in front of him.  "Well, you earned the rest of your money."  He took out a thick white envelope.  Berteau stepped into front of the bar.  Gloved hands took the envelope and carefully began to count its contents. "You know, when I first started to hear about you, I kept hearing the same thing.  'Jack Berteau kills for money, and he started killing for personal reasons.'  What does that mean?"

"I'm a very practical person, Mr. Cabot.  I had to do something productive with all my anger."

"What were you angry about?"

"The eight boys who raped me, and got away with it."

Before the man behind the bar could react to that revelation, Jacqueline Berteau whipped out her silencer-equipped pistol and shot Greg Cabot, her recent client, between the eyes.

Of course, he hadn't been one of them, from that night, more than ten years ago, but he might just as well have been.

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