Feng Shui Assassin

  *

  Anderson whistled tunelessly as he watched the police car drive away. He turned to his computer and double clicked the only program icon on the screen. World Two. A ream of hyperlinks listed different options, and Anderson clicked merrily through a combination until he brought up one profile. Amanda Morgan.

  A concealed door in the corner of the room opened and the well-groomed figure of Duvalier walked to his desk.

  'What a charming young lady, don't you think?' Anderson barely glanced at Duvalier as he tabbed through various options on the screen.

  'What do you think you were doing?' Duvalier asked, planting his fists onto the desk, looming close to Anderson's face.

  'What do you mean? I thought I handled the detective quite well. I brushed off her accusations and ridiculed her murder theory. Even she started to realise the ridiculous statements in the end.'

  'She was playing you like a fish, and you couldn't jump on that hook quick enough.' Duvalier stared into the balding scientist. 'But I suppose we should expect one or two ripples in the plan. And we can't account for your eagerness in the presence of the opposite sex.'

  'She had a genuine interest for our studies here, and she seemed to have a cursory knowledge which I found . . . touching. I saw no harm in indulging her curiosity.'

  'No harm? She's a bloodhound on the trail of the murder of the trustees. She shouldn't have gotten this far. Is she profiled in the program?'

  'Yes, yes she is. We already have most of Europe and the Americas born since 1850. Here she is.' Anderson leant back and both men looked over the information on screen.

  'We are only days away from liquidating the estate of the trust,' said Duvalier. 'She is too close to you, to the remaining trustees, and to the suspicion that there was foul play involved. And that concerns me.'

  'Can we arrange for our rogue assassin to take care of her?'

  'Unfortunately not. His path was years in the forming. Motivation was everything on his particular chart and he's not something we can point and click. Damn it, he's not even supposed to be connected to us.'

  'Are you thinking about using your . . . people?' Anderson hesitated over the last word.

  'My people? Perhaps. But why use a sledgehammer to crack a walnut? Have Dominique prepare a chart and bring it to my chambers. I wish to read this police woman's horoscope for myself.'