James Patterson - Double Cross

HE HAD CONTROLLED other killers before, in particular a brilliant boy who called himself Casanova and who had worked in the Research Triangle near the University of North Carolina and Duke. Of course, in those days, he had been with the FBI.

He’d even explained himself to Alex Cross once. “What I do… it’s what all men want to do. I live out their secret fantasies, their nasty little daydreams… I don’t live by rules created by my so-called peers.” He claimed he attracted others who thought as he did.

Now Kyle Craig had his own ideas about how things should go. He knew it was time for him to take charge, maybe even past time. The man known as DCAK had contacted him through Wainwright, his lawyer when he was in jail, as had other freaks of his kind. DCAK had claimed to be an admirer and a student-as had Wainwright himself-but now it was time for the teacher to step forward and take control of this game.

X marks the spot. That should be easy enough to figure out , he was thinking. Especially for someone who considered himself so brilliant .

Kyle was in position a few minutes before twelve on Saturday night. As promised. He was interested in what would happen next, from several perspectives. First of all, was DCAK bright enough to get himself to the meeting place ? That was a legitimate question, but Kyle figured that the killer would be. DCAK was a clever enough fiend.

Then, would DCAK actually show his face to him? That proposition was a little trickier, and Kyle thought the odds were probably fifty-fifty. It all depended on what kind of a risk taker the killer turned out to be. How truly confident was he?

Or would he show up in one of his theatrical disguises? Maybe he’ll come as me. Kyle smiled as he let the final thought drift across his mind. Then he moved on to other things. He continued to be intrigued with the concept of freedom-to be out here in the world like this. He could feel his heart beating, steady but at an accelerated pace. He was getting better and better at controlling his body and mind.

Then he heard something. Someone was here. A voice coming from behind him.

“In your honor.”

DCAK had arrived, and now he stepped forward from a row of shadowy oak trees. No mask, no disguise. A tall, well-built man who looked to be in his thirties. Rather cocky.

Directly behind him loomed Alex Cross’s house on Fifth Street.

X marks the spot . That would be Cross’s house, of course.

“I’m honored as well,” said Kyle, knowing that they were both lying, wondering if this was as delicious for DCAK as it was for him.

“IT’S GOOD TO FINALLY meet you in person,” DCAK said, but he seemed a little nervous and stiff. “Everything you said has come true. All of it.”

“Yes. I told you I would get out of ADX, and here I am,” Kyle said. He too seemed a little shy, but it was only an act.

“Is he asleep in there? Does he sleep?” DCAK asked, gesturing toward the Cross house across Fifth. He knew the place well and already had dozens of photos from every angle.

“Top floor. That’s where he usually works, figures out his puzzles,” Kyle said. “He doesn’t seem to be home, does he? No lights up there.”

“Actually, he isn’t. He’s in Montana, chasing me. You think he’s figured this game of ours out. I don’t,” said DCAK.

“There you have it, then. But you should be careful. I wouldn’t ever underestimate Dr. Cross. He has a sixth sense about these things, and he’s obsessive, a very hard worker. He could surprise you.”

DCAK couldn’t hold back a trace of a smile-cruel. “Is that what happened to you? You mind me asking such a blunt question?”

“Not at all. What happened to me was that my worst enemy finally caught up with me- my pride, my ego, my hubris. Near the end, I made it too easy for Cross.”

“You hate him, don’t you? You want to bring him down in a public way.”

Kyle smiled now. DCAK was projecting, revealing more than he should about himself. “Well, I do want to humble Cross. I wouldn’t mind destroying his reputation. But no, I don’t hate Alex. Not at all. Actually, I consider him a dear friend.”

DCAK laughed out loud. “I would hate to be one of your enemies.”

“Yes,” Kyle Craig said, and then he laughed too. “You wouldn’t want to get on my bad side.”

“So, am I? Have I gone too far?”

Kyle reached out and patted the killer’s shoulder to let him know that everything was good between the two of them. “Now tell me about yourself. I want to know it all. And then,” Kyle said, grinning again, “you can tell me about your partner. I saw someone lurking back there in the shadows. I’d hate to have to shoot whoever it is. But, of course, I will.”

The woman who went by the name Sandy Quinlan stepped forward from the tree line.

“In your honor” were her first words to the great Kyle Craig. Perhaps disingenuous, but maybe not ? Certainly fawning. Of course, she was an actress too.

Kyle nodded slowly, then said, “So tell me about John Sampson. Where are you keeping him, and what do you have planned?”

BREE AND I RUSHED back to Kalispell late that evening-only to find that our original flights were still the fastest way home. There weren’t any alternatives, at least not one that we could afford.

So we checked into a motel, where neither of us got much sleep. Not being able to help Sampson during those critical first hours was killing both of us, but especially me. John and I had been best friends since we were kids, and I had a bad feeling about this. Still, I was with Bree, and we slept in each other’s arms.

We finally arrived in DC on Sunday-wired but totally focused. I called Billie Sampson from the gate and told her we’d be at their house in twenty minutes. I checked in with Superintendent Davies on our way to the car. He was overseeing this personally. Davies was a friend of John’s too.

“New development while you were in the air,” Davies told me. “The bastard’s running a Webcast sometime today.”

“What do you mean? What kind of Webcast? What time?”

“We don’t have all the details yet. There was an e-mail around two-same distribution as the last one.” That meant a full media press. “He gave the URL for his site and just said it’d be going live by tonight.”

“Bree and I will be there as soon as we can. We’re going to see Billie Sampson first. It’s more or less on the way. Don’t take it off-line! Let it keep running. We need to see what he’s up to.”

“Already with you on that. It may be our only way to track this.” And by this , we both knew Davies meant Sampson’s murder and the gross public spectacle it was meant to become.

I hung up with Davies just as we got to the car.

“What did he say?” Bree wanted to know.

I didn’t answer right away. I was too busy staring at a package that was tape-mounted to the driver’s door.

White paper, silver duct tape. I’d seen something very much like it before.

“Bree? Listen to me, now. Back away from the car. Come over here with me. Take it very slow, and keep back.”

She came around to look. “Jesus. Is it an explosive?”

“I don’t know what it is.” I took out my Mini Maglite and leaned in for a closer look. “It could be anything.”

But when it toned , we both jumped back real fast.

IT TOOK US a couple of seconds to realize that the sound we were hearing was a ringing phone and that it was inside the package.