For a moment they watched him, too. But he was walking in the opposite direction, and when he passed them, things went back to normal. The rumbling bass of a passing car filled the summer air. A loud conversation spilled out of an open window. Profanity punctuated an off-color joke. Children played tag, and their laughter was high-pitched music.

When he passed by, the neighborhood relaxed, and that was a mistake.

The man in black turned around at Eighth Street and followed the trail of the three people he’d been watching. There was no need for him to hurry. He knew where they were going, and he planned to meet them there.

As he passed Ninth Street, his gaunt, pale face took on a resolute expression. He was determined to fulfill the purpose for which he’d been called, and nothing on earth was going to stop him. Not even the black Crown Victoria that eased down the block and slowed near a group of young men on the corner.

The car’s windows opened and the corner boys’ eyes grew wide. Within seconds, all hell broke loose.

There was a loud, popping sound, followed by several more pops in rapid succession. The streets of Logan knew this sound all too well, and everyone reacted in unison. Children screamed and ran toward their mothers. Men dove to the ground and lay prostrate. Women held their babies to their bosoms, and through it all, the man in black kept walking.

The bullets lodged in trees and shattered windows. They frightened children and cleared the streets. The man in black ignored it all and walked through the line of fire. When the gunshots finally stopped, he was unscathed, and he kept walking.

He walked like a man who’d been called to fulfill a prophecy: a man who believed he was chosen for a specific task. In fact, he didn’t walk like a man at all. He walked like something that was virtually invincible. He walked like the angel of death.

Chapter 5

Coletti called the commissioner and briefed him. Then he stopped at a downtown McDonald’s, and for the first half hour of the ride to Graterford, he and Smithson drank huge Cokes and ate Quarter Pounders with large fries on the side.

“So this is the fancy dinner you promised?” Smithson asked while devouring the first of her two burgers.

“Nothing but the best for you,” Coletti said while steering with greasy hands.

Neither of them had eaten a real meal all day, and they ate like it, spilling ketchup on the seats, getting mustard on their clothes, and tearing through apple pies like school kids. They laughed and poked fun, flirted just a little, and started to grow more comfortable with each other.