…the hiss of the arrival went unnoticed. A muffled explosion as if someone had dropped a glove to a floor. He quivered as if a chill from the morning dew had transcended his body. A .25 caliber hole had struck the chink within the armor of the skull. From his temple, a red trickle oozed forth. Ten seconds. A second hiss, a second muffled explosion as the secondary bullet made impact, the projectile burrowing into its home. A second .25 caliber hole appeared adjacent to the first. A second red trickle oozed forth. The quiver of his body ceased, no longer objecting to the chill within it. His tea cup crashed against the tiled veranda sending chards scattering as if a flurry of insects, echoing through the estate outward to the assassin’s wall. His knees buckled, his torso limp, he sagged to one side, his arms not reaching to stop the downward spiral. He collapsed to the veranda, open eyes staring outward onto the vastness of his estate. His chest rose, the final exhale of air wheezed through troubled lungs to a silent crescendo… Define Justice; Is it the one who enacts the punishment, the one who renders the sentence, or is there an aftermath in which both wonder if the Justice sentenced was worth the punishment? A Mystery, a Drama, a Conundrum, involving the technicality of how, to whom, and, a surprise ending of, was it all worth it