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Rapp read the bold headlines. This was better than he had hoped.
“The Montreal Gazette says he was nearly decapitated.”
Rapp glanced at his boss. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“And how would you know?” Kennedy had ordered Rapp that others were to do the dirty work.
Rapp decided that to say nothing was his best move.
“Left in plain sight for all the world to see,” she continued.
“Well…that’s true.” Rapp nodded.
“I?
??m confused.” Her face twisted into an uncharacteristic frown. “I thought we had come to an agreement. This”—she opened her hand and gestured toward the newspapers—“is exactly what I wanted to avoid.”
“I know that, but let me explain myself.”
She crossed her arms and began tapping her foot with renewed vigor. “I’m waiting.”
Rapp let out a sigh and looked back at the papers. “The only one I’ve read is the Post. It didn’t say anything about us. Made some reference to him being an international terror suspect and serving time in France, but that was it.”
“That was today. Trust me, tomorrow morning, we’ll be mentioned. The phone over in public affairs is ringing off the hook. I’ve already fielded five calls relating to it. This thing is going to mushroom.”
“I don’t think so.”
“And why is that, Mr. Media Expert?”
“Because the press is playing catch-up right now. The Montreal police are keeping their mouths shut, but that won’t last long. In fact I’d be willing to bet the specifics on the scene of the crime are already being leaked. This story is going to end up nowhere near us.”
Her brow furrowed and she studied him for a moment. “What did you do?”
“Let’s just say we made it look like a crime of passion rather than a professional hit.”
“Details.” It was a command, not a request.
“What the press doesn’t know yet was that Khalil was found with a wad of cash stuffed in his mouth and the word munafiq scrawled in his own blood on the wall of the building he was propped up against.”
“Hypocrite,” Kennedy translated the word aloud. “I don’t get it.”
“Coleman found out some interesting stuff last week. Not all of Khalil’s worshipers were happy with him. There was a growing dissent in the community over his call to jihad and his recruiting of young men to go overseas and fight. And there was one other thing. Something Muslims, among other people, find deplorable.”
“What’s that?”
“He was a porn freak.”
“What?”
Rapp pulled the memory stick Coleman had given him out of his pocket. “Scott snuck into his apartment and copied his hard drive. The thing was filled with porn. A lot of bondage, S&M, and some underage stuff that could have got him in major trouble.”
“You’re not serious?”
“Of course I am.” Rapp held out the stick. “Plug it in. Take a look at it.”
Kennedy closed her eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“He also had magazines. A lot of really sick stuff.”
