Chapter 17
Konig hit the ground when the bomb went off, sliding on t he slick tiles.
He covered his head as the glass from the windows above shattered all around him. Then lifted his head cautiously some moments later, in the ear-ringing silence that followed.
He squinted, trying to see. Lights were still on in some other parts of the huge Palazzo, which indicated that the damage was limited. Fuck. He’d wanted the Sala dell’Annunziata to be a blackened crater, but from the sound of the screaming that soon began, there were numerous survivors. Al so unfortunate.
On the bright side, at least Lella had finished the job and vap orized himself.
Konig got to his feet. The door hanging open near the stairwell was the Blue Room, where Morelli had ordered Vilardi to take Gallagher. Konig eased inside, activating the flashlight functio n on his phone.
Vilardi lay by the wall next to the fireplace, his face covered with blood. As Konig watched, he stirred and moaned. Oh no. The worthless piece of shit was s till breathing.
Not for long.
He looked at the gun in his hand, then dismissed the idea, sliding it into his pocket along with the phone. The job had started well enough. He should be consistent.
He grabbed the younger man’s limp body by the back of his shirt collar and his belt and heaved him up with a grunt. Vilardi was a big, heavy man, but Konig was bigger. Bigger and stronger than all of them. Stronger than everybody. He a lways had been.
He began to swing Vilardi backwards and forward, like a battering ram, and bashed the top of Vilardi’s head against the marble fireplace. A wet crunch …another…another. Konig dropped the man and checked on his work with the flashlight.
Vilardi’s brains were spilling out of his caved in skull. Problem solved, tracks covered, business expense spared. Onward.
He was almost out the door when he heard the voices coming toward him. Heading up the stairs, not running downstairs with the rest of t he howling mob.
He shrank back behind the wall, motionless. Not even breathing.
“…crazy? Put me down!” A woman, whisp ering fiercely.
“What, you think you’re going to sprint in those heels?” a man replied.
“Fuck the heels! Just give me a second! I have the fl ats, remember?”
“Don’t have a second. After. As soon a s we’re alone.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” the woman muttered as the sound of swiftly running feet pounded past the door and t hen faded away.
Konig leaned to peer out after them. The light that came into the broken windows from the grounds was just enough to see the flash of crimson from the woman’s fl uttering skirt.
Aha. Gallagher and his wife. Yes.
Konig waited until they had gotten all the way down the hall and turned the corner into a part of the Palazzo that s till had light.
When he looked around the corner, they were disappearing into the door between the statues of Artemis and Aphrodite. Heading straight for the Zeus a nd Europa room.
His hand tightened around his pistol grip as he ra ced after them.