Chapter 56: The disappearance

After Jonathan Beckett got onto his connecting flight, David changed what he was wearing, ditched the Beckett ID, and rented a car as Thomas Streff, a black haired, black bearded man without glasses. Thomas left the airport and headed towards Newark.

He was barely out of the city when it occurred to David that one glass of wine and, eventually, four bottles of scotch made it a bad idea to attempt such a trip over unfamiliar roads. He pulled off into a hotel.

David checked in to whatever room was available, paid cash, and went to his room. He opened the minibar and took out the Vodka.

As the night wore on, David drank to McKenzie. As he drank, he thought about when he had first met her, nine years ago. He thought about the jobs he had pulled with her. Mostly small jobs, confidence scams, elaborate cons, that sort of thing. It was more for the fun than the money, really. They had spent some wild times together.

And now she was dead.

Shot. In the face. Twice.

Probably by Collins.