The Widowmaker: Volume 1 in the Widowmaker Trilogy Read Online Free PDF Page B

crossed the office to an ornate cabinet and pulled out an oddly-shaped bottle and two large crystal glasses. “Cygnian cognac,” he announced. “The best there is."
    "I've never had any."
    "Well, you're starting at the top,” said Hernandez. “From this day forward, every cognac you drink will be a disappointment, for the memory of this will never leave you."
    Nighthawk took a sip, resisted the urge to ask for a Dust Whore, and forced a smile to his face. “Very good,” he said.
    Hernandez took a small sip from his own glass. “Wait for the aftertaste,” he said.
    Nighthawk waited what seemed an appropriate amount of time, then nodded his head in agreement.
    "And now,” continued Hernandez, “I think it's time to get down to business."
    "That's what I'm here for."
    "As you know, Winslow Trelaine was assassinated nine weeks ago.” Hernandez grimaced. “He was killed with a solid beam of light from the muzzle of a laser rifle, fired at a distance of approximately 200 meters."
    "Where did it happen?” asked Nighthawk.
    "Ironically, as he was getting out of the car to attend the opera."
    "Ironically?” repeated Nighthawk.
    "Winslow hated the opera,” said Hernandez with a smile. “He was there to make peace between two feuding factions among his supporters."
    "Could one of them have done it?"
    "Not a chance,” replied Hernandez with absolute certainty. “We had all of them under surveillance."
    "Could one of them have commissioned it?” persisted Nighthawk.
    "One of them did ,” answered Hernandez. “They knew he'd be attending the opera that night, though his loathing for it was well documented. They even knew which government vehicle he'd be arriving in.” He paused. “That information could only have come from an insider."
    "Was this the first attempt on his life?"
    "The third."
    "Tell me about the first two,” said Nighthawk.
    Hernandez sighed. “I would love to tell you that my quick-witted security staff anticipated and thwarted them, but the fact of the matter is that both attempts were thoroughly botched or they might well have succeeded."
    "I assume you captured the perpetrators?"
    "The would-be perpetrators,” Hernandez corrected him. “Yes, we caught them both."
    "I assume they had no connection to the assassin who succeeded?"
    "Not as far as we can tell,” agreed Hernandez. “Both were members of the lunatic fringe. Well, different lunatic fringes. One wanted to help the sales of his book, which was a dismal critical and commercial failure. The other thought Trelaine and his entire administration were puppets of some alien race and was preparing to enslave the planet for his dark masters."
    "Is either one alive?” asked Nighthawk.
    Hernandez shook his head. “Both were executed. Besides, as I said, they acted alone—and they were crazy. This was a meticulously-planned political assassination."
    "And there are no leads at all?"
    "None."
    "Well,” said Nighthawk thoughtfully, “there's no sense questioning Trelaine's cabinet or his personal friends, at least not yet. They'll all deny everything, whether they're telling the truth or not, and I don't suppose I have the authority to ... ah ... extract the information I need?"
    "No, I'm afraid not."
    "Pity.” Nighthawk followed Hernandez's gaze, saw that it had come to rest on his almost-untouched glass of cognac, and forced himself to take another sip. “Well, Trelaine was obviously killed by a hired gun. Who's the likeliest?"
    The smile returned to Hernandez’ face.
    "Did I say something funny?” asked Nighthawk.
    "Not at all. I am just pleased to see that you are reasoning like the Widowmaker."
    Nighthawk sighed and placed the glass down on the edge of the desk. “All right. Who am I looking for?"
    "I will give you his name in a moment,” said Hernandez. “But first, I want it made clear that I am not accusing him of murder. I am not saying that he pulled the trigger.” He paused. “But out here killers and bandits tend to be