Patterson, James - Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue

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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

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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

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throbbing again. I was starting to get a headache. The rest of the house was quiet. Next, I checked on traveling sports teams, circuses and carnivals, author tours, rock-and-roll groups - and then I hit on something in the entertainment area. I had been ready to call it a night, but here was something interesting. I tried not to get excited, but my pulse quickened as I checked the West Coast information first. Then the East Coast. Bingo. Maybe. I had found the kind of pattern that I was looking for - an entertainment act that worked winters and early spring on the West Coast, and then came East. Their tour cities and the murders were matching up for now. Jesus. They had been touring for fifteen years. I was almost certain I'd found some kind of connection to the killers. Two magicians who called themselves Daniel and Charles. The same ones Andrew Cotton and Dara Grey had seen on the night they were murdered in LasVegas. I even knew where they were scheduled to perform next. They were probably already there. Eleven years of unsolved murders had come down to this. New Orleans, Louisiana. A nightclub called Howl. A pair of magicians named Daniel and Charles. I still couldn't travel, so I would have to remain in Washington. I hated not being able to go to New Orleans. I would miss an important time, but Kyle would be there. I knew he wanted to make this bust himself, and I couldn't blame him. This could help make his career, no doubt about it. The case was huge. I called Kyle Craig.

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Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue

Chapter Fifty-Seven

That night in New Orleans a half-dozen FBI agents circulated through the crowd that had turned out for Daniel and Charles's early performance. Howl was located in the warehouse district, off Julia Street. Usually it featured musical acts, and, even tonight, zydeco and the blues reverberated from the mortar and redbrick walls. A few tourists tried to bring 'to-geaux' cups from Bourbon Street into Howl. They were denied admission/or life. The used Cressidas and Colts and a few sports-utility vehicles in the parking lot were a tip-off to the presence ofTulane and Loyola college students packed inside. Smoke lay thick over the noisy and restless crowd. Several in the audience looked under-age and the club had been cited for serving minors. The owners found it easier to buy off the New Orleans police than to effectively regulate the club. Suddenly, everything went quiet. A single voice punctuated the silence, 'Holy shit! Look at this.' A male tiger had walked out onto the stage, which was covered in layers of black velvet. There was no leash on the cat. No trainer or handler was anywhere in sight. The usually raucous audience remained silent. The big cat lazily raised his head and roared. A girl in a hot pink tank top screamed in the pit seating area. The cat roared again. A second white tiger walked out and stood beside the first. It glared down at the crowd. The pit audience was situated directly in front of the stage. Men and women seated there scrambled away, grabbing their beer bottles.

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Another unmistakable tiger roar now came from the back of the club, behind the audience. Everyone froze. How many cats were on the loose? Where were they? The crowd was silent now. What the hell was going on? The blinding lights onstage made peripheral space a dark void. Any retreat to either side of the room was suddenly a gamble. There was a shift of the stage lights - left to right then right to left. The lights were powerful, almost blinding. They created the visual illusion that the entire stage had moved. The crowd's gasp was audible. Panic was in the air. The tigers were gone! Two magicians in shimmering black-and-gold lame suits now stood at the center of the stage where the tigers had been just a heartbeat ago. They were both smiling; they almost seemed to be laughing at the jittery audience. The taller of the two, Daniel, finally spoke. 'You have nothing to fear. We're Daniel and Charles, and we're the best you will ever see! That is a promise I plan to keep. Let the magic begin!' The crowd inside Howl began to clap and cheer, and then to howl. There were two shows that night. Each was scheduled to last an hour and a half. Kyle Craig was inside the club with the FBI agents. More agents were posted outside on the street. Daniel and Charles concentrated on several trunks which they called 'Homage to Houdini'. They also performed Carl Hertz's 'Merry Widow7. The audience response to the shows was highly favorable. Nearly everybody left the club in awe - vowing to come again, to tell friends to come. Apparently, it happened everywhere that Daniel and Charles played, coast to coast. Now came the real work for the FBI. After the second show, Daniel and Charles were whisked away to a silver limousine idling in a sealed-off alley at the stage door. There was a lot of noise and confusion backstage. Daniel and Charles were screaming at one another. Once the silver limousine exited the alley, a team of FBI cars followed it through the usual crowds in downtown New Orleans, then out toward Lake Pontchartrain. Kyle Craig was in radio contact for the entire trip.