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Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue
Chapter Fifty-Four
No one would expect this, and that was why it was so good, so excellent. The end ofAlex Cross. It was time for it to happen. Maybe it was overdue. Cross had to die. The Mastermind was inside the Cross house, and it was as exciting and extraordinary an experience as he had imagined it would be. He'd never felt more powerful than he did standing in the dark living room at a little past three in the morning. He had won the battle. The Mastermind had triumphed. Cross was the loser. Tomorrow, all of Washington would be mourning his death. He could do anything - so what should he do first? He wanted to sit and think about it. No need to rush. Where would he choose to sit? Why of course, on Cross's piano bench on the sun porch. Cross's favorite spot for relaxation and escape, the place he liked to play with his children, smarmy, sentimental bastard that he was. The Mastermind was tempted to play something, perhaps a little Gershwin, to show Cross that even his command of the piano was superior. He wanted to announce himself in a dramatic fashion. This was so good, so delicious. He never wanted tonight to end. But was it the absolute best he could do? It had to be a night he would never forget, something to savor always. A souvenir that would have great meaning to him, only to him. There were two triangles that explained his complex relationship with Alex Cross, and he visualized them as he sat on the porch, biding his time, enjoying himself immensely. Christ, he was smiling -------------- 151 --------------
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like a damn fool. He was in his element, and he was happy, so happy.
It was such a good psychological model, so concise and clear and sound. It explained everything that was going to happen tonight. Even Dr Cross would approve. It was the perfect dysfunctional family triangle. Maybe he would explain it to Cross now. Just before he murdered 152
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him. He slid on plastic gloves and then plastic booties. He checked the load in his pistol. Everything was set. Then upstairs he went - the Caller, the Mastermind, Svengali, Moriarty. He knew the Cross house very well. He didn't even need a light. He didn't make any unnecessary noise. No mistakes. No evidence or clues for the local police or the FBI to follow. What an incredible way this was for Cross and his family to die. What a coup. What a chilling idea. The 'killing order' was starting to come to him as he climbed the stairs. Yes, he was sure of it. Little Alex Jannie Damon Nana Then Cross. He walked to the end of the upstairs hallway and stood there listening before he opened the bedroom door. Not a sound. He slowly pushed on the door. What was this? A surprise? Christ! He didn't like surprises. He liked precision and order. He liked to be in total control. The young daughter, Jannie, was sitting by Cross's bed, fast asleep. Watching over her father, protecting him from harm. He watched Cross and the girl for a long moment, maybe ninety seconds. A small nightlight had been left on in the room. There were thick bandages on Cross's hand and shoulder. He was perspiring in his sleep. He was wounded, sick, not himself, not a worthy opponent. The killer sighed under his breath. He felt such disappointment, such sadness and despair. No, no, no! This wouldn't do. It was all wrong, all wrong! He closed the bedroom door, and then quickly, silently retraced his steps out of the Cross house. No one would know he had been there. Not even the detective himself. As usual, no one knew anything about him. No one suspected a thing. He was the Mastermind, after all.
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Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue
Chapter Fifty-Five
I woke several times during the night. I thought someone was in the house at one point. I felt someone there. Nothing I could do about it, though. Then, after fourteen hours of sleep, I woke and found that I was actually feeling better. I could almost think straight again. Exhaustion still had a hold on me, though. All my joints ached. My eyesight was blurry. I could hear music playing softly in the house. Erykah Badu, one of my favorites. There was a knock on the bedroom door and I said, Tm decent. Who goes there?' Jannie pushed open the door. She was holding a red plastic tray with a breakfast of poached eggs, hot cereal, orange juice, and a mug of steaming coffee. She was smiling, obviously proud of herself. I smiled back at her. That's my girl. What a little sweetheart she was when she wanted to be. 'I don't know if you can eat yet. Daddy. I brought you some breakfast. Just in case.' "Thank you, sweetie, I'm feeling a little better,'! said. I was able to push myself up in bed, then prop a few pillows behind me with my good hand. Jannie carried the tray over to the bed and carefully set it on my lap. She leaned in and kissed my fuzzy cheek. 'Somebody needs a shave.' 'You're being so nice,' I said to her. 'I am nice. Daddy,'Jannie answered back.'You feel good enough for -------------- 154 --------------
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a little company? We'll just watch you eat - we'll be good. No trouble. Is it okay?' 'Just what I need right now,' I said. Jannie came back with little Alex in her arms and Damon trailing behind, giving me the high sign. They climbed up on my bed and, as promised, they were very good, the best medicine around. 'You just eat your breakfast while it's hot. You're getting too skinny,'Jannie teased. 'Yeah, you are,'Damon agreed.'You're drawn and gaunt.' 'Very good,'I smiled between small bites of eggs and toast, which I hoped I could keep down. I kept running my hand over little Alex's head. 'Did somebody poison you. Daddy?'Jannie wanted to know.'What exactly happened?' I sighed and shook my head. 'I don't know, baby. It's an infection. You can get it from a human bite.' Jannie and Damon grimaced. 'Nana says it's septicemia. They used to call it blood poisoning.' Damon contributed some scholarly research. 'Who am I to argue with Nana,' I said, and left it at that. 'I'm no match for Nana Mama right now.' Or maybe ever. I looked at the puffed-up bandage and gauze covering most of my right shoulder, where I'd been bitten. The skin was a sickly yellow around the bandage. 'Something bad got into my blood. I'm okay now, though. I'm coming back.'But I remembered what Irwin Snyder had said: You're one of us.
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Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue
Chapter Fifty-Six
I was able to make it downstairs for dinner that night. Nana rewarded my appearance at the table with chicken, gravy and biscuits and a homemade apple crisp. I made an effort to eat, and I surprised myself by doing pretty well. After dinner, I put little Alex to bed. I went back up to my room around eight-thirty and everybody seemed to understand that I was tired, not myself yet. I didn't sleep once I got up to my room, though. Too many bad thoughts about the murders were buzzing in my head. Right or wrong, I felt like we were getting close to something. Maybe I was just fooling myself. I worked for a couple of hours on the computer and my concentration was fine. I was pretty certain that something had to link the cities where the murders had taken place. What was it, though? What was everybody missing? I looked at anything and everything. I studied the schedules of airplane carriers that flew into each of the cities, then bus companies, and finally railroads. It was probably just busy work, but you never know, and I had nothing better to do. I checked out corporations that had main or branch offices in the cities and found there were a lot of matches, but it wasn't likely to get me anywhere. Federal Express, American Express, the Gap, the Limited, McDonalds, Sears, J.C. Penneys were just about everywhere, so what? I had at least one travel book for each of the cities and I pored over them until it was almost midnight. Nothing came of it. My arm was ---------------- 156 --------------