Page 18 of A River Red With Blood
“Dangerous, even as an advisor.”Kade touched a finger to his cheek.“Skin like ours makes a man a prime target for drone operators.”
Some soldiers from African nations were serving on the front lines of the conflict, but most were fighting for the Russians, either as mercenaries or trafficked conscripts.Americans—whether Black, like Kade, or otherwise—were drawn to the Ukrainians, as was anyone else with a shred of decency.As far as Louis was concerned, those who didn’t side with the Ukrainians deserved to be introduced to the Russians in person.
“And I’ve crossed paths with racists in my time,” added Kade, “but you haven’t met a true racist until you’ve met a Russian one.”
Louis, too, had crossed paths with racists, but didn’t regard the Russians as worse than the rest.Ignorance transcended racial boundaries; ironically, to have believed otherwise might have made him a racist.
“Tell me about the contract,” he said.
“What do you know?”
“Only that someone put my name to a paper and you picked it up.”
“There wasn’t a lot of competition, but it was better not to take any chances.”
“Price too high?”
“Too low: fear of blowback.”Kade extended his arms to take in the bar and its occupants.“You were known to be protected, but that wasn’t the only reason.”
“Go on.”
“I read the small print.I dug deep.”
Opinions differed on the wisdom of investigating a contract.Some considered it unwise, others irrelevant.But early on, Louis had learned the value of establishing the identity of one’s ultimate employer and the reason they wanted a life to be ended.Whenthings went wrong—and in Louis’s experience, they went wrong more often than they went right—it was crucial to have an inkling of where the danger might lie.
“And?”
“I put together a file,” said Kade.“It’s on Amir’s iPad, but it doesn’t amount to much.The point of origin is a Boston businessman named D.Francis Sturgis, the D standing for Dawson.He’s fifty-eight, and distantly related to a Boston Brahmin family of the same name.He has property wealth, all inherited, and a reputation as a philanthropist: children’s charities, pediatric hospitals.According to the broker, he was also open about why he wanted you killed, which might be another reason the paper was treated like it might ignite if touched.”
“So why did D.Francis Sturgis put a price on my head?”asked Louis.
“Because,” said Kade, “an angel told him to.”
Chapter 15
By the lake, Jennifer Parker’s shape shimmered, momentarily to vanish—Martin blinked, and she was present again—but time had passed, though nothing changed.He knew only that she had left him briefly, and he wondered what could have drawn her so suddenly away.
“An angel?”said Louis.
“The broker figured Sturgis was demented,” said Kade.“But funds were deposited in escrow, so his lunacy was the solvent kind, and no one who puts a price on another man’s head is ever completely rational.”
“Did Sturgis elaborate?”
“No, and the broker decided, or wanted to believe, that Sturgis might have been speaking euphemistically, which freed him from any impulse to investigate further.Brokers prefer not to ask too many questions.They live longer that way.”
“Who was the broker?”Louis asked.
“I can’t tell you that,” said Kade.“Anyway, you haven’t told me how you found out I’d picked up the paper.”
“I got it from someone who declined the contract.”
“And he didn’t name the broker either?”
“You know how it is,” said Louis.
These were professional courtesies.Nobody named names unless they had to, but Louis had hoped Kade might be more forthcoming.
“Yeah, I know how it is,” said Kade, “which is why I’m not saying.”
