Without remorse - Tom Clancy [340]
Mission accomplished, Kelly told himself. At least he'd gotten one job done after all the failures of this bleak summer. He got to his feet and walked to Henry Tucker, kicking the gun from his hand. He wanted to say something to the face that was still alive, but Kelly was out of words. Maybe Pam would rest easier now, but probably not. It didn't work that way, did it? The dead were gone and didn't know or care what they'd left behind. Probably. Kelly didn't know how that worked, though he'd wondered about it often enough. If the dead still lived on the surface of this earth, then it was in the minds of those who remembered them, and for that memory he'd killed Henry Tucker and all the others. Perhaps Pam would not rest any more easily. But he would. Kelly saw that Tucker had departed this life while he'd been thinking, examining his thoughts and his conscience. No, there was no remorse for this man, none for the others. Kelly safed his pistol and looked around the room. Three dead men, and the best thing that could be said was that he wasn't one of them. He walked to the door, and out of it. His car was a block away, and he still had an appointment to keep, and one more life to end.
Mission accomplished.
The boat was where he'd left it. Kelly parked his car, an hour later, taking out the suitcase. He locked the car with the keys inside, for that too was something he'd never need again. The drive through town and into the marina had been blissfully empty of thought, mechanical action only, maneuvering the car, stopping for some lights, proceeding through others, heading for the sea, or the Bay, one of the few places where he felt he belonged. He hefted the suitcase, walked out the dock to Springer, and hopped aboard. Everything looked okay, and in ten minutes he'd be away from everything he'd come to associate with the city. Kelly slid open the door to the main salon and stopped dead when he first smelled smoke, then heard a voice.
'John Kelly, right?'
'Who might you be?'
'Emmet Ryan? You've met my partner, Tom Douglas.'
'What can I do for you?' Kelly set his suitcase down on the deck, remembering the Colt automatic at the small of his back, inside the unbuttoned bush jacket.
'You can tell me why you've killed so many people,' Ryan suggested.
'If you think I've done it, then you know why.'
'True. I'm looking for Henry Tucker at the moment.'
'He's not here, is he?'
'Maybe you could help me, then?'
'Corner of O'Donnell and Mermen might be a good place to look. He's not going anywhere,' Kelly told the defective.
'What am I supposed to do about you?'
'The three girls this morning, are they -'
'They're safe. We'll look after them. You and your friends did nicely with Pam Madden and Doris Brown. Not your fault it didn't work out. Well, maybe a little.' The officer paused. 'I have to take you in, you know.'
'What for?' .
'For murder, Mr Kelly.'
'No.' Kelly shook his head. 'It's only murder when innocent people die.'
Ryan's eyes narrowed. He saw only the outline of the man, really, with the yellowing sky behind him. But he'd heard what he said, and part of him wanted to agree with it.
'The law doesn't say that.'
'I'm not asking you to forgive me. I won't be any more trouble to you, and I'm not going to any jail.'
'I can't let you go.' But his weapon wasn't out, Kelly saw. What did that mean? .
'I gave you that Officer Monroe back.'
'Thank you for that,' Ryan acknowledged.
'I don't just kill people. I've been trained to do it, but there has to be a reason somewhere. I had a good enough reason.'
'Maybe.