A Darker Justice Read Online Free

death.” Wurth felt an angry heat flood his face. “Any thug could do that. Offing a federal judge takes considerably more skill.”
    “
Clandestinely
offing,” Dunbar shot back. “I think that word might have had too many syllables for your boy to understand.”
    “And I suppose your two grasp that concept?”
    “They do. And they’re in Charleston right now, just awaiting my word.”
    Wurth looked up at the photo of Gerald LeClaire gazing into the ocean. This FaithAmerica command was no better than Uncle Sam’s. Get the grunt to do the dirty work, then if he fucks up, get rid of him. It made him want to puke.
    Dunbar pointed his finger at him. “Wurth, the simple truth is that this headless judge picture proves you and yours aren’t reliable anymore.”
    “But I didn’t do it!” Wurth cried. “An eighteen-year-old boy did!”
    “But he was
your
prize pupil. And he could well have cost us a presidential election!”
    Wurth looked at Dunbar’s hands. His nails gleamed with clear polish and grew well beyond the ends of his fingers. How had it come that a man with manicured nails could toy with his life like a cat with a piece of yarn?
    “What if I do the last one myself?” Wurth asked suddenly, the coin flashing behind his back.
    Dunbar shook his head. “I’ve already got my boys in place.”
    “Call them off. Let me prove that I’m not quite as unreliable as you think. I’ll do that woman who lives near my camp. There are so few women in the federal judiciary. Getting rid of another one would make our point even better.”
    Dunbar’s mouth fell open. “You want to kill a judge who virtually lives in your own backyard? Oh, that’s smart, Wurth. That’s real smart.”
    Wurth smiled. “I can get it done. Quickly. Quietly. You’ll get your prophecy fulfilled in time and the Feds won’t suspect a thing.”
    “Yeah, right,” said Dunbar. “I can just imagine how that will go.”
    Wurth leaned forward and stared into Dunbar’s eyes. “If you think I’m such a fuckup, then put it to a vote. These six men have as much riding on this as you do. See if they like your two goons in Charleston better than me.”
    Wurth looked up and down the table. The timber baron from Idaho and the city councilman from Arizona looked as if they’d just eaten something slightly spoiled. The man who was the shoo-in to be the next governor of Indiana pondered his reflection in the dull silver coffeepot. All knew that if Gerald LeClaire was elected president, they were assured cabinet seats. All knew equally that if any of this prophecy fulfillment scam was discovered, nothing could save them, either from Gerald LeClaire’s faithful or the U.S. government.
    “Well, gentlemen? Who will it be? You want to feed at that big hog trough in Washington, you’ve got to have D.C.–sized balls.”
    Silence hung over the table as Wurth looked at each man in turn. Finally Conrad Driessen’s fat little arm lifted.
    “I do,” he said, sweat popping out on his forehead. “Wurth has always delivered before. I don’t think this beheading thing was his fault.”
    Dunbar spoke to the six at the table. “Gentlemen, next month in Miami, ten thousand FaithAmericans will gather in our first convention. If we can prove that the false Solomon prophecy has been fulfilled, it will electrify them. They will rise and carry us all to the White House on their shoulders! Do any more of you share Dreissen’s belief that Wurth’s killing his next-door neighbor will get us to that point?”
    The silence stretched even longer, then the Texan’s arm came up, followed by the Virginian’s. When the councilman from Arizona finally joined them, Wurth had Dunbar, four to three. Slowly, he began to breathe again. His years of hard work had earned him one more chance. “That’s it, Dunbar,” he said. “Call your boys in Charleston off.”
    “Do all of you realize what will happen if Wurth fails?” Dunbar’s voice grew shrill.
    “Wurth’s the