Sanders, as he was known in his current incarnation, picked up the phone. His long tapered fingers ended in well manicured nails. They looked delicate, those hands, but were capable of terrible things.
The person he called picked up on the third ring and spoke a single word, “Tesseract.”
Sanders answered, “Promised one.” Any other words and both would know that it wasn’t safe to speak. “He’s dead. Do you know who is investigating?”
“Lee Winston. He’s a good man. But truthfully there’s not much to go on. There aren’t any prints or significant evidence to identify the killer. If anyone can find out who did it though it’s him.”
His informants were picked and paid very well, so even though he never trusted anyone he felt certain that the information was good. “Very well. Call me if you get any more leads.”
“There’s one other thing that you should now.” The voice continued when Sanders said nothing. “He’s looking into our friend’s background.”
“Well I suppose that is natural enough. The man is a detective and good ones do their homework.”
“So you’re not worried that he’ll connect you to anything.” The voice was puzzled.
“If he does, then he will just have to go away. Before that happens he should be able to lead me to whoever is responsible. His death was… inconvenient to our plans. I do not tolerate inconvenience.” Plastic crackled under the power of his grip. In truth it was more than inconvenient, but one’s underlings didn’t need to know everything. “Is there anything else?”
“No sir. I’ll send a picture of the detective and his address and license plate number to your pho…”
Sanders ended the connection and slipped the cell phone into his jacket pocket. He sat on the park bench and fed the pigeons. Certain things didn’t need to be left to one of his numerous sources. He decided that he would follow this detective himself. It would be a welcome respite from his more cerebral pursuits.
He and Owen had been working together for years, long before either of them had any status in their organization or the wealth that the world had brought them. Neither of them considered the other a friend. That implied a level of trust that men in their positions couldn’t afford. There was also a level of sentimentality that at least Sanders himself wasn’t capable of. Still their relationship had been mutually beneficial. Finding and grooming a replacement would take years and that alone was worth taking the head of whoever had the temerity to interfere.
There was also the possibility that the assassin worked for one of their rivals and that it was far from coincidental. They were on the cusp of completing their latest work and the timing spoke volumes to that likelihood. He could afford to be more than a little paranoid. The truth would come when he found the person responsible.
His path decided he moved to his car. He earned more than a few stares. Standing at a hair over seven feet tall, Sanders could be described as gaunt. The height disguised the fact that he was still massive, built much like a basketball player. Long, blond hair hung straight to his shoulders making his face almost feminine. His eyes were hidden by aviator sunglasses, which was good as they had a quality that most people found unsettling. He wore a simple black three piece suit and white shirt. A long, brass headed cane made of dark wood filled his left hand and was never far from his side.
A midnight green SUV beeped as he approached. The windows were tinted darkly and the dealer plates would eventually trace back to a place that had been closed for years. The motor came to life and the sound of violins filled the cab. His phone chimed letting him know that Winston’s personal data had arrived. It had been too long since he had killed a police officer. He considered that a nice little bonus.
