The Professional
Henry “The Best” Shulaski unzipped his shaving kit and took out a bottle of aspirin. Good thing I ordered some bottled water, he thought. You can never trust the water in these little countries. Henry took two aspirin and then sat down in the chair beside the bed. Two hours later he reached for the phone and called. “Hello, room service?” Henry knew he should eat lightly. He did not want to get sleepy from too much dinner. “Could I have a fillet of fish poached in wine, some rice, and a salad? No, no wine. I’ve got work to do.”
After hanging up the phone he opened a briefcase and took out papers that he carefully arranged on the bed. Henry stood back and looked at the effect. Smiling he added a calculator to the papers along with a couple of pencils. He sat back down in the chair and waited. When the knock finally came at the door he said, “Come in,” and then bent over the papers as if working. He did not look up at the waiter until he knew the waiter was looking at him waiting.
Henry smiled, “Sorry, but I got to get this work done for the morning. I get caught up in things.” Standing Henry searched through his pockets until he seemed to find a few crumpled bills. He selected one and handed it to the waiter and returned to his papers.
Henry waited until the waiter had closed the door and a full thirty seconds had passed before standing. Henry thought he will remember only a busy businessman, too busy to go down to eat. After eating Henry took a bar of soap from his shaving kit and washed up. Then he removed the false bottom from his suitcase and assembled the rifle. Henry sat down on the balcony and waited.
It was five hours later when the light in the window he was watching came on and people appeared, a man and a woman. They made love. Henry thought it was not polite to watch. He waited until they turned out the lights before looking through the scope another time. Satisfied they were going to sleep he set the rifle down again and waited another hour.
Henry picked up the rifle and looked through the scope again. The people were sleeping. Henry thought they should be in the deepest part of sleep by now. Using the light from his hotel’s sign he carefully lined up the crosshairs of the scope just over the upper edge of the man’s left ear. The shot did not make much noise, a hole appeared in the window across the street, and the woman did not awaken. He smiled at that but frowned at what he saw in the scope. He had nicked the man’s ear. Henry thought he would have to check the sighting when he got home. The rifle was shooting low. He compensated for it when he killed the woman.
