Steven James - The Bishop

No.

Misdirection all the way.

I thought of what I’d told Annette on Wednesday morning about the fourth premise of environmental criminology-progression.

With each additional crime, offenders become more efficient, learn from their mistakes, develop preferences for specific activities and behavior Endgame: 31 minutes 9 seconds

The bomb squad arrived, and after I’d passed off Mollie’s laptop I jogged inside to find out if Lien-hua had been able to locate Agents Cassidy and Farraday.

Tessa and Detective Warren faced each other, the chessboard between them

“You’re playing better tonight,” Detective Warren said.

“I’m trying to think like you.”

“Aha.”

Tessa took her time evaluating the position of the pieces on the board. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure. What’s that?”

Tessa moved her queen. “You’re Catholic, right?”

Detective Warren scrutinized the board. “I am.”

“And Catholics believe people are born evil, don’t they?”

“It’s not that simple, but-”

“Well, in sin, or whatever. Original sin.”

Detective Warren looked up from the chessboard. “We believe that people are born with a fallen nature, that all of us are in need of a Savior.” She didn’t sound defensive or preachy, but she did seem surprised by the direction the conversation was taking. “Just watch the news for ten minutes and you can see how true that is.”

Tessa was silent. Patrick’s words from last night came to mind: “ Fractures… I don’t think we can seal them… I don’t think anyone ever has…”

Detective Warren gave her attention back to the chess pieces. Slid one of her rooks to block the square Tessa had been eyeing for her queen.

“A fallen nature,” Tessa said.

“Yes.”

“So is that the difference, then, between us and other animals? That we’re fallen and they’re not? That we need a Savior and they don’t?”

Detective Warren eyed Tessa somewhat suspiciously. “This conversation isn’t some kind of ploy to make me lose my concentration on the game, is it?”

“Maybe.”

“Aha. Well… That’s one thing that makes us different, yes.” She seemed like she was going to say more, but held back.

Human beings, being human.

Following their hearts.

Tessa made her move.

Detective Warren countered.

“What about you, Tessa? What do you think makes us different?” Her thoughts cycled back to her recent reading and research. “Did you ever read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson?”

“I’ve heard of it, of course, but no, I don’t believe I’ve ever read it.”

“Well, it’s not like Dr. Jekyll is the mad scientist or something, like he’s usually portrayed. He wasn’t trying to create a monster but to isolate one.”

“To isolate one?”

“He wanted to separate his good nature from his bad. But it didn’t go so well.”

“The bad took over?”

“Pretty much. And after it got loose there was no stopping it.” Tessa moved one of her pawns. “Anyway, last night Patrick and I got talking about being true to your heart and about these guys-like the ones the Bureau is tracking this week-how, when they do these things, they’re being true to their hearts.”

“To the fallen nature. But-”

“To the fractures.”

“Fractures?”

“It’s Patrick’s thing. Anyway, if it’s true we evolved from primates, maybe we’re not different from animals at all-”

Detective Warren’s ringing cell phone interrupted her, so Tessa quickly finished her thought. “I mean, how can we not be true to who we are? How can anything act in a way that’s incongruent with its nature?”

“Incongruent with its nature.” Detective Warren tugged out her phone, looked at the screen. “Hold that thought. It’s your dad.”

25 minutes left…

9:04 p.m.

“Cheyenne.” I was on my way to Evidence Room 3a. “Something came up just a few minutes ago. We’re looking into the possibility that there might be a bomb set to explode at 9:29.”

“A bomb? Where?”

“We don’t know. Is everything all right there?”

“We’re just sitting around talking about good and evil, Jekyll and Hyde, original sin. Nothing heavy. Tell me about the bomb.”

Angela flagged me down. I stepped into her office and saw that Lacey had finished her analysis of the credit card charges at the Lincoln Towers Hotel on the night Hadron Brady tried to shoot the vice president.

No Patricia E.

No Aria Petic.

No one from the suspect list.

“Pat?” Cheyenne said.

“Sorry. Listen, there were traces of C-4 found in the van. We have a timer, a countdown that was emailed to Mollie’s laptop. That’s all.”

“Were they there when the van was first checked?”

“What?”

“The traces of C-4. I read the files, Pat. That van was processed on Wednesday. Maybe the ERT didn’t find the traces the first time because they weren’t there. Then.”

Now there was an interesting thought.

Cassidy and Farraday cleared it, then rechecked it.

Plant the traces of explosives after the gas station explosion?

Another clue to a future crime?

I scribbled a note for Angela to look for the names Cassidy and Farraday in the credit card list. She stared at me incredulously but tapped at her keyboard.

Cheyenne said, “Is there anything I can do from here?”

“I’ll call you if there is, and I’ll get there as soon as I can, but things are a little up in the air right now.”

No one by the name of either Cassidy or Farraday had paid for a room at the hotel on either the night before the shooting or the day of it. I pointed to the printer to let Angela know I wanted her to print a copy of the names that she did have.

“Okay,” Cheyenne said. “Be careful.” The same thing Lien-hua had told me just minutes ago.

“I will. Keep a close eye on Tessa, all right? Tonight, I don’t know, everything feels off balance.”

“Don’t worry. She’s safe with me.” She hung up, the printout finished, and I grabbed the pages. Studied the names.

The As… Bs… Cs…

I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for.

D… E… F…

Just a name I might recognize. Anyone.

G… H… I…

Anything out of the ordinary.

J… K… L I stopped.

Stared.

At the name: Lebreau, Renee.

The entire cave system I’d thought I was looking at collapsed.

Lebreau disappeared at 11:00 on Tuesday, that would’ve given her enough time to get to DC before Twana’s murder Tuesday night… Renee Lebreau had connections with Basque.

Lien-hua appeared at the door. I told her, “Professor Lebreau’s credit card was used to pay for a room at the Lincoln Towers on the day of the assassination attempt.”

“What?” She sounded stunned.

“I know. I’m not sure what it means. Were you able to reach Cassidy and Farraday?”

“I spoke with Natasha. They’d both already gone home for the night. I asked if she could come back in to evaluate some evidence with me. She’s on her way. So Lebreau was at the hotel?”

“At least her credit card was. What about Cassidy?”

“I couldn’t reach him. Natasha should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

I checked the time.

9:10.

Nineteen minutes before the endgame.

Whatever that was.

“We came here to review the evidence in the lab,” I said, heading for the hall. “Let’s go do it before she arrives.”

Brad positioned himself in the trees.

All right.

There were a number of ways things might play out tonight, but the result would be the same. He would make sure two people died and Bowers ended up scarred in the way that never heals.