The Secret of the Stones by Ernest Dempsey Page B

police would be able to subdue him.   No.   It had to be here.   He picked up the envelopes again and scanned them more
meticulously.   About half way
through the pile, he stopped at one that seemed peculiar.   It was from a financial institution
he’d never heard of.   Granted,
there were a million financial advisors out there but this one struck him as
odd.   It had already been opened
where as the rest were still sealed.   Unconsciously dropping the other mail, he removed a piece of paper from
within the frayed top.   At the
bottom of the correspondence he recognized the name of the professor he’d
killed a few nights before.   It was
a letter from Dr. Borringer and on it were the translations of the disc Schultz
had found in North Georgia.   The
words were still in the form of a riddle: “The chambers will light your
path.”   A chill went up his spine
as he read the last few words.   This had to be it.  
    Suddenly,
a noise came from downstairs.   The
front door closed.   Ulrich tucked
the letter into a cargo pocket in his black pants as he shifted over to the
door of the study.   Below, he could
hear the careless footsteps of someone who had no idea what had happened and
what was about to.   As the sound of
the shoes on the hardwood moved toward the kitchen, Ulrich took a few
precipitous steps downward, pressing close to the wall.   Even though this flatfoot beat cop was
surely no match for his level of talent, the blonde assassin still preferred to
always use the element of surprise if it was available, a policy that had
probably saved his hide more than once.
    In
the kitchen, the refrigerator door opened, the light flooding the kitchen with
a mixture of natural and florescent light.  
    “Hey
Billy!”   The gruff voice of the cop
froze Ulrich on the bottom step of the staircase.   “This guy’s got some cokes in here.   You want one?” 
    The
Southern accent grated against Ulrich’s European ears.   The hapless cop, probably about five
foot ten inches looked more like a reject from a junior varsity offensive
line.   Ulrich judged his weight to
be around two hundred fifty pounds and from the looks of it.   He watched as the chubby man reached
into the refrigerator and grabbed two red cans from the bottom drawer.   Receiving no response from his
partner on the back porch, he called out again, “Hey Billy!   You thirsty?”   Silence.
    Setting
down the cans, the cop stalked towards the dining room where the door to the
back deck was located.   “Dad gum it
Billy!   If you’re on that cell
phone again I’m gonna kick your…” The officer stopped in mid sentence as
he stared out through the glass door at the prostrate body on the other
side.   “What the…Billy?!”   Panic flooded his face as he reach for
the handle of the sliding door.  
    Abruptly,
he felt something thin and cold run across the breadth of his neck.  
    With
fleshy hands, the blubbery cop clutched his throat and turned around to see a
tall blonde-haired man holding a knife.   Blood gushed from the open artery and vein, his fingers doing little
more than filtering the flow.   The
man’s beady eyes quickly clouded and the room began to spin.   Finally, his heavy body crashed to the
floor, torso and head leaning up against glass.   After only a few seconds, the head toppled onto a shoulder,
lifeless.
    Ulrich
simply stood for a moment watching the last few ounces of life spurt from the
wound.   Then, turning, he strode
swiftly towards the front of the house, concealing the blade in its jacket
sheath.   He closed the front door
of the house casually and returned to the quiet suburban sidewalk, unaware of
the eyes that watched him from a black luxury sedan nearby.

Chapter
17
    Atlanta,
Georgia

 
    Allyson
handed the envelope to Sean.   “Would you like to do the honors?”   She smiled at him like a kid who’d just found the last Easter egg.
    What
he took from her hand looked, on the outside, like