The Secret of the Stones by Ernest Dempsey Page A

he crouched behind a wooden
fence and waited next to a small gate.   He reached up and cautiously unhooked the latch, careful not to make any
noise.   The last thing he needed
right now was a dog to wake up.   Fortunately, no canine appeared.  
    Keeping
close to the back wall, Ulrich moved closer to his target.   He could see the silhouette of what had
to be a cop standing on the back porch smoking a cigarette.   Amateurs.   Any moron could have seen the guard from a mile away.   The man was pacing back and forth,
obviously bored with his assignment for the night.   As he turned the opposite direction, Ulrich silently scuffed
under the porch, squatting as he moved.   Fortunately, the porch was about five feet high.   Crickets chirped their night songs
loudly.   Hardly enough sound cover,
but he didn’t need much.   To get in
the house, he would have to take out the guard.   Maybe he didn’t need to kill the man.   Knocking him unconscious could have the
same effect.   Ulrich preferred not
to leave loose ends, though.   Killing was something he’d been doing a long time, and through the years
he had become quite proficient at it.    
    Above
him, through the cracks of wood, the guard stopped his movement and spun slowly
back the way he’d just come.   His
moment at hand, Ulrich was on the steps flying up them in twos, careful not to
trip.   Unfortunately for the police
officer, none of the planks made a sound and in one swift motion, the long
blade was pushed through the back of the cop’s neck and out the front of his
throat.   A sickening gurgle was the
only noise he made before falling to the deck, shock imprinted lifelessly in
his wide eyes.   Blood poured freely
from the wound and oozed in between the gaps in the wood to the ground
below.  
    Ulrich
wiped the blade clean on the man’s shirt, then took a quick inventory, making
sure there was no one standing directly inside.   There wasn’t.   He stepped to the door.   It
was unlocked.   He imagined if he
had shown up thirty minutes later the “guards” might have been discovered
passed out on the couch with ESPN playing in the background.   Little wonder crime was so rampant in
parts of the city.
    Carefully
opening the door, he slipped into what seemed to be the dining room.   The house was dark with the exception
of a fluorescent light in the kitchen casting a pale glow into the adjoining
rooms nearby.   Ulrich moved
stealthily across the hardwood floor.   Rounding the dining room corner, he could make out the shape of the
other officer through the front window, standing obliviously unaware to what
had just happened to his partner.  A few quiet steps up the stairs and
Ulrich was standing in Tommy’s study.  
    He
had to search quickly.   It would
only be a matter of time before the other police officer would go back to check
on his partner.   Schultz had said
there was an envelope on his desk that contained what he needed.  
    Ulrich
scanned the workstation for the parcel.   He’d taken a big chance coming here.   It was fortunate that Atlanta’s finest had never received a
level of training to deal with his skills.   Still, had there been a larger force things may have gotten
sticky.  
    A
stack of envelopes sat at the edge of the desk.   Setting the blade down on the black wooden surface, he
picked up the letters and shuffled them through his gloved fingers, not
sure   for what he was looking.   He arrived at the bottom of the stack
having found nothing but ordinary junk mail and statements from various service
institutions.   Frustrated, he let
the bunch fall back to the surface of the desk next to his knife.  
    Had
he been tricked?   He’d considered
the possibility that Schultz had sent him here knowing full well there would be
police around the area.   Perhaps
the archaeologist had underestimated the talents Ulrich possessed.   Then again, surely his captive would
not be so foolish as to trust that the