Smith - Murder in the North Tower

Three men dressed in black stormed through the glass doors of Suite 8998 on the eighty-ninth floor of the World Trade Centers North Tower. The offices of A/S/B Financial resided just beyond the glass partition separating the suite from the hallway. On the center wall, above a reception desk, the A/S/B logo conspicuously demanded all attention. A/S/B, in large black letters, arched above the strange silhouette of a black, two-headed eagle. Financial, also in large black letters, curved u-shaped beneath the eagle. The wall was painted bright red. In sharp contrast to the black logo. On either side of the reception desk, separate doors led to inner offices.

The smallest of the three, a bald-headed man wearing a turtleneck, nodded at his two much larger underlings. The thugs flipped chairs, swiped several items and pamphlets off the reception counter. The bald man tipped his shiny head, directing the men to the door on their right. They entered, ransacked a neat, uncluttered office, didnt find whatever it was they were searching for. Back in the reception area, they opened the door on the left, entered that office.

Neither of the two thugs reacted to the sight of the womans body slumped against the wall. As though Death was someone they were accustomed to chancing upon. The bald man only grunted. Seeing that the woman was mostly undressed, he peered close for a better view, noted the gold letter opener protruding from her left thigh. He glanced at her face. The woman, a blond, was good-looking, attractive.

Shame, the bald man muttered, pushing out his lower lip.

He stooped, picked a heavy metal sculpture off the carpet next to the dead blonds body. Though an uneducated man, he recognized Rodins work. The Thinker . He considered the statues heft.

Two-and-a-half, three kilos, he thought. Heavy .

He examined the statue, saw there were several strands of dark hair caked in blood on the base. He scrutinized the carpet more carefully. Almost missed the stain in the dark pattern in front of the desk. It wasnt a lot of blood, but it was a significant amount.

Someone besides this blond was injured here, the bald man determined. Badly injured.

He pictured the blond swinging the statue with both hands. Crushing her assailants skull.

Anger can be helpful ally . But where is other body? Maybe we check hospitals .

It was imperative that he find Ilyas Bagman. The boss would not be happy if Pavel returned empty-handed. Finding some money would help. But mostly, Ilya wanted blood. The bald man dropped the statue, stood.

They are not here, Pavel, one of the two thugs muttered.

The bald man pantomimed surprise.

You are certain, Dmitri? They are not hiding under piece of paper maybe?

Pavel spoke with the same heavy Russian accent as his underling. He lifted a sheet of paper on the desk to peek beneath it, then motioned as though to slap the larger man on the back of his head. He stopped without making contact. A framed photo on the desk had caught his eye. In it, two identical men, standing one on each side of the eagle logo on the wall in the lobby. They were tall men. Handsome. Their resemblance to one another remarkable.