Murder on Capitol Hill

IT WAS HIS FAVORITE TOOL.

It weighed more than a pound. Most of the weight was in an elaborately carved ivory handle. Its blade was six inches from the butt of its handle to its sharp tip.

He'd taken steel wool to it only the day before. He often did that with the tools of his profession. He took pride in them, considered them surgical instruments. He knew that without them, he could not be the best in his profession.

He stepped back and surveyed his work, his favorite ice pick in his large, beefy hand.

"That thing could kill," someone said.

Of course he already knew that.