A business rival of Benjamin’s father, who had been slowly but surely outpacing him. Benjamin was more specific this time. He had to meet his end in flames.
We scaled the walls of his estate with ease; spending most of a year in the Himalayas does a lot for one’s physique. Once we were over, it was relatively easy to cross the lawn and find an open window. Clearly, the man didn’t think much of security, but then, who would want to kill the owner of a chain of toy stores?
A psychopath, that’s who.
Once inside, Winston went to wake the man’s children and get them outside while I went to do the deed. He was alone in his bed, having lost his wife to cancer years beforehand, and I watched him for a few minutes before getting busy finishing the job that cancer had started; orphaning his children. As I walked around the bed, pouring napalm on the mahogany floors, I almost took out my gun and shot him. The kiss of hot lead would have been sweeter than the burning embrace of fire. But if Benjamin had caught wind of it, the jig would have been up, so I just finished filling the room with napalm, then stepped out and threw down a match.
Out in the garden, Winston shielded the childrens’ eyes as best he could. All these years later, those poor children don’t realise that the mysterious masked man who saved them from the fire was actually an accomplice in their father’s murder.