Bliss’s advance had been made easier by the rise and fall of the land, making it harder for Louis’s partner to trace his progress than it would have been if he was crossing level ground. The disadvantage was that, while he was in the slight depressions, he was unable to see the lower part of the woods in which Angel was hidden. He was also aware that Louis might have recovered sufficiently from his wound to enable him to look for cover, but while Bliss had maintained his vigil there had been no sign of movement over the small patch of clear ground between the place where Louis had fallen and the woods in which his lover cowered. Bliss anticipated that the fear of being shot would keep Angel in the woods, but in case he overcame that fear Bliss had quickly covered the ground between his original position and his targets, despite squatting and crawling much of the way. Now he was within touching distance of the rise overlooking the forest. He calculated that Louis lay perhaps ten feet to his right behind it. Bliss put the Surgeon to one side. He would retrieve it once his work was done. Instead, he removed the little Beretta Tomcat from its holster beneath his arm. It was the perfect coup de grace weapon, a comparatively cheap yet reliable .32 that could be disposed of quickly and without regret. Slowly and quietly, Bliss worked his way along the slope of the incline. Ten feet. Eight. Five.
He stilled his breathing. There was saliva in his mouth, but he did not swallow. He heard only birdsong, and the gentle shifting of the branches.
In one graceful movement, Bliss raised the gun and prepared to shoot.
Angel was halfway between the woods and the body of Louis when Bliss appeared. He was caught in the open, unarmed. He froze for an instant, then continued his run, even as Bliss altered the angle of his weapon to deal with the approaching man, the muzzle now centered on Angel’s body.
Then two voices spoke. Both were familiar to Angel, and both said the same single word.
“Hey!”
The first voice came from behind Bliss. He swiveled to face the new threat, and saw a man kneeling in the grass, a gun leveled on him. Some distance behind him, and clearly struggling with the terrain, was an overweight man in his sixties, also carrying a gun. The second voice came from below Bliss. He looked down, and saw Louis lying on his back, a gun aimed at Bliss’s chest.
Bliss almost smiled in admiration. Such patience, he thought, such guile. You clever, clever boy. And then Bliss felt force and heat as the bullets entered his body, spinning him where he stood and sending him tumbling down the slope. The rain had stopped for a time, and the sky above him was a shard of clear blue as he died.