Page 105 of The List
“No, sir. Neither the time nor the need. You left a clear trail to your doctor, which answered all questions.”
“How am I to be processed?”
“Actually, I thought I’d give you a choice. I brought chemicals for heart or lung failure.”
“How thoughtful. All consistent with my cancer, I assume?”
“Of course.”
“What about an autopsy? Is it not a possibility? After all, my illness is not exactly life threatening at this point. I have some time left.”
“Mr. Lee left instructions for you to be cremated in the morning.”
He nodded. “Once everyone is told I was dying anyway, nobody will question a thing. My doctor will confirm the cancer, all will be right.”
“It also helps that the local coroner works at the paper mill. He’ll be most cooperative, I’m sure.”
“That he will. Will you mourn me, Jon?”
“You were an excellent employer. I will miss you, as will a great deal of other people.”
“I’m not so sure. Once the world discovers what we did, I doubt I’ll be missed at all.”
“And how will they find out?”
A light chuckle. Brevity in the face of death. “Clever, Jon. I’m sure Hamilton wants you to learn all you can.”
“Only doing my job, sir.”
“And you do it so well.” His sarcasm was clear. “Will the choices you’ve been so kind to provide cause instant death?”
“They will. That’s all we deal with.”
“Any associated pain?”
“None. I was careful to choose chemicals that were painless.”
“That was, again, most thoughtful.”
“As I said, it was a pleasure to work for you.” De Florio stepped closer. “Mr. Bozin, may I ask, on a personal level, why you’re doing this?”
He stared through the darkness at the shadow of death. It had come just as certainly as if he was taking his own life, which in a loose sort of way he was. “Cancer is a slow, painful way to die. Believe me, what you’re about to do is nothing but relief.”
“But why destroy the company, your reputation, your partners?”
“What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?Mark 8:36. I lost mine a long time ago.”
He stood and, like every night, slipped off his silk robe and carefully draped it across the foot of the bed. He lay down on the sheets and jerked up the left pajama sleeve, exposing his arm. “I assume, since there’ll be no body to examine, there’s no point in disguising the injection point.”
“It does seem unnecessary.”
“Heart failure. Let’s go with that.”
De Florio reached into his right coat pocket and removed a syringe.
“How do you know which one?”
“I wrap rubber bands around the outside. One or two. Touch is an important sense a lot of people tend to ignore.”
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