Dusk had overtaken the sky, and only shadows from the setting sun remained. Quinlan, donned a tracksuit to avoid looking suspicious and jogged down the mansion-lined street near the Newberry Library. Teddy Hunt would drive by any minute and turn in at the coach house that had been converted into a garage many years back. He’d pull in and park then walk the brick path through the opulent gardens to the double oak front doors of the mansion.
For over a week, Quinlan had been researching Teddy’s route and what time he arrived at home every night. The man was as predictable as they came, and he had a beautiful, gold-digging wife half his age that he couldn’t wait to get home to.
Teddy, the Chicago liquor store tycoon, was about to meet his maker.
Quinlan jogged slowly in the direction that Teddy would be coming from. When his headlights were in view, Quinlan planned to wave him down as if something was wrong, and when the unsuspecting Mr. Hunt rolled down his window to ask if he could help, he would get a bullet to the forehead, just like the others.
After pressing the button to illuminate the watch dial, Quinlan knew it was time.
I have to put the silencer on the gun so I’m ready. He’ll be coming down the street any minute.
After removing the gun from one pocket and the silencer from the other, Quinlan screwed them together, bagged the gun so the casing couldn’t fly away, and waited. A set of headlights was heading that way. The scenario had been rehearsed several times, and Teddy’s was the only car that drove down that street between seven fifteen and seven thirty every night.
Quinlan checked the hood emblem as the car neared, saw that it was the Mercedes, then flagged down the vehicle as if there was an emergency. The car slowed to a stop, and the tinted driver’s-side window came down.
“What’s going on? What seems to be the problem?” Teddy asked.
“Mr. Hunt?” Quinlan moved in closer.
“Yes, that’s me. What’s wrong?”
Once at the car window, Quinlan pulled out the gun and fired. “Nothing anymore. As of this second, the world is a much better place.”
The force caused Teddy’s head to slam against the headrest. Blood and brain matter coated the car’s tan leather interior, and his body slumped to the side. Quinlan watched the car roll forward then jogged on and turned down the next side street.