Abacus

watched the target slowly slide along the guide and stop at the far end of the range.
    Charging down range, he pumped round after round into the target, dropping spent clips as he went. Getting closer, he fired continually at the head of the target until it separated from the arm and gently cascaded to the ground like a leaf. For good measure he pumped a further three rounds into the head as it lay on the floor. Re-holstering his pistol, he looked down at the shredded target and breathed out heavily. “Ah, that feels much better now.”
    * * *
    Back in his office, he felt a changed man. The session at the range had calmed him down considerably. As he rounded his desk to sit down, he saw that one of his folders in the bookcase was only half pushed in. Who has been in here? He thought.
    Pulling the folders apart he saw the moleskin book was missing. “No … ” he cursed. He frantically searched between the other books and folders to see if he had simply put it in a different spot. But it was gone. With arms outstretched on the bookcase and head bowed, he was resigned to the fact it had been stolen. He now had lost all control. The mad man, whoever he was, had the upper hand and there was nothing he could do about it. He thumped his fist against the wall. What do I do now ?
    “Looking for something , boss?” came a woman’s voice.
    Randall looked up to see Leanne with arms crossed , standing in the doorway. “Nothing important, Leanne,” he said dismissively.
    “Boss, I know exactly what you’re looking for. Your little book is gone and it is very important to you, isn’t it?” she said with a smug expression.
    Randall glanced back at where the moleskin book used to be. “Yes, it is,” he said, trying to not be overawed by the situation. He looked up into her bright blue eyes, which had always appeared so honest and caring to him, but not now. He knew from her question that he was now looking into the eyes of the killer responsible for the murders. Pausing to look out into the office, he asked, “Did you take it?”
    Leanne smiled. “I have just put it away for safekeeping, you know, for insurance. Your hand wrote all of the names in the book, all of who have mysteriously died. Your fingerprints and your DNA in the book make you the murder suspect, not me.”
    Randall shook his head and prote sted under his breath.
    “Well , look at it this way. How could one person choose seven people who have all been killed and not been involved in some way themselves?” she asked.
    Randall shook his head. “What the fuck have I ever done to you to deserve this, Leanne, if that is what your real name is.”
    “Nothing , boss, you have been great to me. But don’t worry, I don’t intend to use it, I never want to use it. I respect you more than any other man I have ever met. I just need to share the excitement of how I did it with someone. It’s not nearly as much fun if you cannot share the juicy bits. By keeping the book hidden, it will ensure that these stories go no further than you.”
    Randall glanced at the cactus of knowledge, while keeping Leanne in his peripheral vision. Even his trusty succulent was no help to him with this one.
    Walking around the desk and placing her arm gently around his shoulders, she said, “Cheer up, boss, you wanted them gone anyway, didn’t you?”
    R andall wasn’t sure how to react. On one hand he did feel a deep satisfaction they were gone, but on the other, a total lunatic with whom he had shared a good working relationship was now blackmailing him. In a ploy to avoid her question he asked one of his own. “I would never have thought it was you, Leanne. I thought it was maybe someone in the office, but not you. How did you do it?”
    Glancing out into the office , she said excitedly, “Quite easy, boss, like most blokes the crooks on your list have a chink in their armour, they are deviates. I found out what hotels they drank at, followed them in, chatted with them and introduced them to ‘Columbian Devils Breath’.”
    “What breath ?”
    “ Its other name is ‘Scopolamine’ it comes from a plant. In its purest form it is a powerful drug that makes the victim open to suggestion and easy to coerce. The amazing thing about it is that the victim still looks alert even though they have lost all free will.
    “ I ask them to meet me outside, where they are like putty in my hands. They think we are going to have a good time together, but little do they know it will