Patterson, James - Alex Cross 5 - Pop Goes the Weasel

'They were understanding and helpful,' I said, feeling my jaw stiffen with resentment. I hated that Halpern was using what happened to Christine to unsettle me.

'Detective, were you officially back on active duty at the time of Detective Hampton's murder?'

'Yes, I went back on full-time duty about a week before the murder.'

'Was it requested that you stay off active duty for a while longer?'

'It was left up to me. The chief of detectives did question my ability to resume my duties. But he made it my choice.'

Halpern nodded thoughtfully. 'He felt your head might be elsewhere? Who could blame you if it was?'

'I was upset, I still am, but I've been able to work. It's been good for me. The right thing to do.'

There were several questions about my state of mind, then Halpern asked, 'When you found out that Detective Hampton had been murdered, how upset were you?'

'I did my job. It was a bad homicide scene.' Your client is a butcher. Do you really want to get him off? Do you realize what you're doing?

'Your fingerprints were on Detective Hampton's belt and on the dashboard of her car. Her blood was on your clothes.'

I paused for several seconds before I spoke again. Then I tried to explain. 'There was a huge jagged tear in Detective Hampton's jugular vein. Blood was everywhere in the car, and even on the cement floor of the garage. I tried to help Detective Hampton - until I was certain she was dead. That's why there were fingerprints in the car and Detective Hampton's blood on my clothes.'

'You tracked blood upstairs?'

'No, I did not. I checked my shoes carefully before I left the garage. I checked twice. I checked because I didn't want to track any blood up into the building.'

'But you were upset, you admit that much. A police officer had been murdered. You forgot to put on gloves when you first searched the scene. There was blood on your clothes. How can you possibly be so sure?'

I stared directly into his eyes and tried to be as calm as he was. 'I know exactly what happened that night. I know who killed Patsy Hampton in cold blood.'

He raised his voice suddenly, 'No, you do not, sir. That's the point. You do not. In frisking Colonel Geoffrey Shafer, isn't it fair to say that you were in physical contact with him?'

'Yes.'

'And isn't it possible that blood from your clothes got onto his? Isn't it even likely?'

I wouldn't give him an inch. I couldn't. 'No, it isn't possible. There was blood on Geoffrey Shafer's trousers before I arrived.'

Halpern moved away from me. He wanted me to sweat. He walked over to the jury box, occasionally looking back at me. He asked several more questions about the crime scene, and then--

'But Dr. Cassady didn't see any blood. The two other officers didn't see any blood - not until after you came into contact with Colonel Shafer. Colonel Shafer was on the phone until three to five minutes before he met his therapist. He came straight there from his children's birthday party. You have no evidence, Detective Cross! Except what you brought into Dr. Cassady's apartment yourself. You have absolutely no evidence, Detective! You arrested the wrong man! You framed an innocent man!'

Jules Halpern threw up his hands in disgust. 'I have no further questions.'

Alex Cross 5 - Pop Goes the Weasel

CHAPTER Ninety-Seven

I took a back way out of the courthouse. I usually did, but on this day it was essential. I had to avoid the crowds and the press, and I needed to have a private moment to recover from my time on the witness stand.

I'd just had my ass pretty well kicked by an expert asskicker. Tomorrow, Cathy Fitzgibbon would try to undo some of the damage in cross-exam.

I was in no hurry as I walked down a back stairway that was used by maintenance and cleaning people in the building, and was also a fire escape.

It was becoming clear to me that there was a chance that Geoffrey Shafer would be acquitted. His lawyers were the best. We'd lost important evidence at the suppression hearing.

And, I had made a mistake at the homicide scene in my rush to help Patsy Hampton without putting on gloves.

It was an honest mistake, but it probably created doubt in the minds of the jurors. I'd had more blood on me than Shafer. That was true. Shafer might actually get away with murder, and I couldn't stand the thought. I felt like yelling as I descended the twisting flight of stairs.

And that's what I did, finally. I yelled at the top of my voice and it felt so damn good to get it out. Relief flowed through my body, however temporary it might be.

At the bottom of the concrete stairs was the basement of the courthouse. I headed down a long darkened hallway toward the rear lot where the Porsche was parked. I was still lost in my thoughts, but calmer after hollering my fool head off in the stairwell.

There was a sharp bend in the hallway near the exit to the parking lot. I came around the turn and saw him. I couldn't believe it. The Weasel was right there.

He was first to speak. 'What a surprise, Dr. Cross. Sneaking away from the madding, or is it maddening crowd? Tail between your legs today? Don't fret, you did all right upstairs. Was that you yelling in the halls? Primal screams are the best, aren't they?'

'What the hell do you want, Shafer?' I asked him. 'We're not supposed to meet or talk like this.'

He shrugged his broad shoulders, wiped his blond hair away from his eyes. 'You think I care about rules? I don't give a shit about rules. What do I want? My good name restored. I want my family not to have to go through any more of this. I want it all.'

'Then you shouldn't have killed all those people. Especially Patsy Hampton.'

Shafer finally smiled. 'You're very sure of yourself, aren't you? You don't back down. I admire that, to a degree. I played the game of being a hero once myself. In the army. It's interesting for a while.'

'But it's much more interesting to be a raving lunatic murderer,' I said.

'See? You just don't back down from your pig-headed opinions. I love it. You're wonderful.'

'It's not opinion, Shafer. You know it, and so do I.'

'Then prove it, Cross. Win your pitiful sodding case, will you? Beat me fair and square in a court of law. I even gave you home advantage.'

I started to walk toward him; I couldn't help myself. He stood his ground.

'This is all an insane game to you. I've met assholes like you before, Shafer. I've beaten better. I'll beat you.'

He laughed in my face. 'I sincerely doubt it.'

I walked right past him in the narrow tunnel.

He pushed me - hard, from behind. He was a big man, but even stronger than he looked.

I stumbled, almost went over onto the stone floor. I wasn't expecting the outburst of anger from him. He held it in so well in court, but it was close to the surface. The madness that was Geoffrey Shafer. The violence.

'Then go ahead, beat me. See if you can,' he yelled at the top of his voice. 'Beat me right here, right now. I don't think you can, Cross. I know you can't.'

Shafer took a quick step toward me. He was agile and athletic, not just strong. We were almost the same size, six foot two or three, two hundred pounds. I remembered that he'd been an army officer, then MI6. He still looked in excellent shape.

Shafer pushed me again with both hands. He made a loud grunting noise. 'If you've beaten better, then I should be a pushover. Isn't that so? I'm just a pushover.'

I almost threw a punch; I wanted to. I ached to take him down, to wipe the smug, superior look off his face.

Instead, I grabbed him hard. I slammed Shafer up against the stone tunnel wall and held him there.

'Not now. Not here,' I said, in a hoarse, raw whisper. I'm not going to hit you, Shafer. What? Have you run to the newspapers and TV. But I am going to bring you down. Soon.'