Pope's Assassin

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Book: Read Pope's Assassin for Free Online
Authors: Luis Miguel Rocha
had died two months before without heirs, caught the zealous Jew's attention. Perhaps someone had bought the house, which was next door to his. Certainly there had not been any changes or repairs. The three men who arrived in a white van entered the house and installed themselves as if they'd always lived there. The situation didn't inspire confidence in Shimon. Information was everything.
        He knew Marian's house well. He'd been inside many times when she was alive, crotchety and very gossipy. But he liked to talk to her. She was always someone to talk to. Shimon's first mistake was not knocking on the front door and, instead, trying a sneaky approach. He circled the house by the fi rst-floor patio, one step in front of the other, careful not to make a noise. The first window was for the living room, and he dared not look in. It was shared by too many people to be empty, and Shimon didn't want to risk being discovered. Not because he felt he was doing anything wrong, but to fulfi ll his duty to his neighbor's belong ings that should be passed along in perfect condition to the next own ers, whoever they might be. The second window was Marian's room. She'd moved down to the fi rst floor when she realized she would die earlier if she had to climb the stairs every night. She was worn out by the effort. Marian was a very practical woman. But now was not the time to think about her. His mission was to find out who the intruders were. If they were intruders. They could be just three nice young men to add to the list of new neighbors. It would be a change, since the neighbors were starting to disappear as they moved out or died.
        Shimon took another step toward the window, which by coinci dence was across from his own, separated by a wall. When he got to the window, the curtains were closed. Damn. He couldn't see anything. There was light inside, but the curtain was thick. He went to the corner in back. The sun was setting elsewhere. Already it was dark. His heart beat faster. He was too old for this. He heard a muffled noise. Someone was breathing hard . . . and then a crack. The hard breathing could be his, but the cracking noise wasn't. He turned around to find the source of the noise and found himself again at Marian's window. The curtains hid the interior, but let a pale reflection of light out around the sides. He didn't see shadows. He clearly heard what was going on inside the room. Someone was breathing very hard. Another smack.
        "We don't have all night, kid," a harsh male voice said.
        "I've already told you. I don't know what you want me to say. You've got the wrong guy," a voice cried. "Let me go, please."
        Another crack, very hard, it sounded to Shimon. Chairs scraping and other unintelligible sounds.
        "I'm not going to be so gentle next time," the former voice menaced.
        "Do what he tells you, kid. We don't have much time," another, more cordial voice, advised.
        "I'm nobody. You're mistaking me for someone else," the tearful voice repeated.
        "Your name is Ben Isaac Jr.?" the friendlier-sounding voice asked. "Son of Ben Isaac?"
        The sorrowful voice didn't answer.
        A blow sounded. Perhaps to the head. "Didn't you hear? Answer!" the first voice joined in again.
        "I am," Ben answered fearfully. "Call my father. He'll pay any amount you ask for." His pain was obvious.
        The friendly voice started to laugh. "This is not about money. No one's going to ask for ransom."
        "No?" Ben asked. He was completely confused.
        "No," the friendly voice confirmed. "But we want something, obviously. And you're going to help us get it, Ben. Do we understand each other?"
        Shimon was astonished, leaning against Marian's window. He had to go home and call the police. Someone had kidnapped Ben Isaac Jr., whoever he was. He is terrified, the son of Ben Isaac Sr., who must have something important for mafia of this caliber.

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