James Patterson - Cat & Mouse

Other headlines:

FOR THOMAS PIERCE, THE CRIME SCENE IS IN THE MIND

MURDER EXPERT HERE IN ST. LOUIS

THOMAS PIERCE-GETTING INTO KILLERS’ HEADS

NOT ALL PATTERN KILLERS ARE BRILLIANT-BUT AGENT

THOMAS PIERCE IS

MURDERS OF THE MIND, THE MOST CHILLING

MURDERS OF ALL.

If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Kyle was trying to make me jealous of Pierce. I wasn’t jealous. I didn’t have the time for it right now.

A little before noon, I drove out to Lorton Prison, one of my least favorite places in the charted universe.

Everything moves slowly inside a high-security federal prison. It is like being held underwater, like being drowned by unseen human hands. It happens over days, over years, sometimes over decades.

At an administrative max facility, prisoners are kept in their cells twenty-two to twenty-three hours a day. The boredom is incomprehensible to anyone who hasn’t served time. It is not imaginable. Gary Soneji told me that, created the drowning metaphor when I interviewed him years back at Lorton.

He also thanked me for giving him the experience of being in prison, and he said that one day he would reciprocate if he possibly could. More and more, I had the sense that my time had come, and I had to guess what the excruciating payback might be.

It was not imaginable.

I could almost feel myself drowning as I paced inside a small administrative room near the warden’s office on the fifth floor at Lorton.

I was waiting for a double murderer named Jamal Autry. Autry claimed to have important information about Soneji. He was known inside Lorton as the Real Deal. He was a predator, a three-hundred-pound pimp who had murdered two teenage prostitutes in Baltimore.

The Real Deal was brought to me in restraints. He was escorted into the small, tidy office by two armed guards with billy clubs.

“You Alex Cross? Gah-damn. Now ain’t that somethin’,” Jamal Autry said with a middle-South twang.

He smiled crookedly when he spoke. The lower half of his face sagged like the mouth and jaw of a bottom feeder. He had strange, uneven piggy eyes that were hard to look at. He continued to smile as if he were about to be paroled today, or had just won the inmates’ lottery.

I told the two guards that I wanted to talk to Autry alone. Even though he was in restraints, they departed reluctantly. I wasn’t afraid of this big load, though. I wasn’t a helpless teenage girl he could beat up on.

“Sorry, I missed the joke,” I finally said to Autry. “Don’t quite know why it is that you’re smiling.”

“Awhh, don’t worry ’bout it, man. You get the joke okay. Eventually,” he said with his slow drawl. “You’ll get the joke, Dr. Cross. See, it’s on you.”

I shrugged. “You asked to see me, Autry. You want something out of this and so do I. I’m not here for your jokes or your private amusement. You want to go back to your cell, just turn the hell around.”

Jamal Autry continued to smile, but he sat down on one of two chairs left for us. “We boff want somethin’,” he said. He began to make serious eye contact with me. He had the don’t-mess-with-me look now. His smile evaporated.

“Tell me what you’ve got to trade. We’ll see where it goes,” I said. “Best I can do for you.”

“Soneji said you a hard-ass. Smart for a cop. We’ll see what we see,” he drawled.

I ignored the bullshit that flowed so easily from his overlarge mouth. I couldn’t help thinking about the two sixteen-year-old girls he’d murdered. I imagined him smiling at them, too. Giving them the look. “The two of you talked sometimes? Soneji was a friend of yours?” I asked him.

Autry shook his head. The look stayed fixed. His piggy eyes never left mine. “Naw, man. Only talked when he needed somethin’. Soneji rather sit in his cell, stare out into far space, like Mars or someplace. Soneji got no friends in here. Not me, not anybody else.”

Autry leaned forward in his chair. He had something to tell me. Obviously, he thought it was worth a lot. He lowered his voice as if there were someone in the room besides the two of us.

Someone like Gary Soneji, I couldn’t help thinking.

“LOOKIT, SONEJI didn’t have no friends in here. He didn’t need nobody. Man had a guest in his attic. Know what I mean? Only talked to me when he wanted something.”

“What kind of things did you do for Soneji?” I asked.

“Soneji had simple needs. Cigars, fuck-books, mustard for his Froot Loops. He paid to keep certain individuals away. Soneji always had money.”

I thought about that. Who gave Gary Soneji money while he was in Lorton? It wouldn’t have come from his wife-at least I didn’t think so. His grandfather was still alive in New Jersey. Maybe the money had come from his grandfather. He had only one friend that I knew of, but that had been way back when he was a teenager.

Jamal Autry continued his bigmouthed spiel. “Check it out, man. Protection Gary bought from me was good-the best. Best anybody could do in here.”

“I’m not sure I follow you,” I said. “Spell it out for me, Jamal. I want all the details.”

“You can protect some of the people some of the time. That’s all it is. There was another prisoner here, name of Shareef Thomas. Real crazy nigger, originally from New York City. Ran with two other crazy niggers-Goofy and Coco Loco. Shareef’s out now, but when he inside, Shareef did whatever the hell he wanted. Only way you control Shareef, you cap him. Twice, just to make sure.”

Autry was getting interesting. He definitely had something to trade. “What was Gary Soneji’s connection with Shareef?” I asked.

“Soneji tried to cap Shareef. Paid the money. But Shareef was smart. Shareef was lucky, too.”

“Why did Soneji want to kill Shareef Thomas?”

Autry stared at me with his cold eyes. “We have a deal, right? I get privileges for this?”

“You have my full attention, Jamal. I’m here, I’m listening to you. Tell me what happened between Shareef Thomas and Soneji.”

“Soneji wanted to kill Shareef ’cause Shareef was fuckin’ him. Not just one time either. He wanted Gary to know he was the man. He was the one man even crazier than Soneji in here.”

I shook my head and leaned forward to listen. He had my attention, but something wasn’t tracking for me. “ Gary was separated from the prison population. Maximum security. How the hell did Thomas get to him?”

“Gah-damn, I told you, things get done in here. Things always get done. Don’t be fooled what you hear on the outside, man. That’s the way it is, way it’s always been.”

I stared into Autry’s eyes. “So you took Soneji’s money for protection, and Shareef Thomas got to him anyway? There’s more, isn’t there?”

I sensed that Autry was relishing his own punch line, or maybe he just liked having the power over me.

“There’s more, yeah. Shareef gave Gary Soneji the Fever. Soneji has the bug, man. He’s dying. Your old friend Gary Soneji is dying. He got the message from God.”

The news hit me like a sucker punch. I didn’t let it show, didn’t give away any advantage, but Jamal Autry had just made some sense of everything Soneji had done so far. He had also shaken me to the quick. Soneji has the Fever. He has AIDS. Gary Soneji is dying. He has nothing to lose anymore.

Was Autry telling the truth or not? Big question, important question.

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you, Autry. Why the hell should I?” I said.

He looked offended, which was part of his act. “Believe what you want. But you ought to believe. Gary got the message to me in here. Gary contacted me this week, two days ago. Gary let me know he has the Fever.”