Patterson, James - Alex Cross 1 - Along Came A Spider

“Come in here for a minute.” Sampson was in the bathroom that was off to one side of the tiny studio.

The walls were papered with photos from magazines, newspapers, record albums, book jackets.

72 / Jamei; Patterson

He'd left a final surprise for us. There were no fingerprints, but he had scrawled a message.

Just over the mirror was a typeset headline: I WANT TO BE SOMEBODY!

Up on the walls was an exhibition. I saw River Phoenix. And Matt Dillon. There were photos from Helmut Newton books. I recognized Lennon's murderer, Mark David Chapman. And Axl Rose. Pete Rose was up on the wall, too. And Neon Deon Sanders. Wayne Williams was there. And newspaper stories. The Happy Land Social Club fire in New York City. A New York Times story of the Lindbergh kidnapping. A story about the kidnapping of Samuel Bronfman, the Seagram's heir, and a story about the missing child Etan Patz.

I thought about Soneji the kidnapper, all alone in his desolate apartment. He had carefully wiped every inch of space for fingerprints. The room itself was so small, so monkish. He was a reader, or at least liked to have books around. Then there was his photo gallery. What did it tell us? Leads? Misdirections? I stood in front of the mirror that was over the sink and stared into it as I knew he had many, many times. What was I supposed to see? What had Gary Sonejl seen? “This was his picture on the wall-the face in this mirror,” I offered a theory to Sampson. “It's the key picture here, the central one. He wants to be the star of all this.” Sampson was leaning against a wall of photos and news clippings. “Why no fingerprints, Dr. Freud?”

“He must know we have his fingerprints on file somewhere. Makes me think he may have been wearing some of disguise at the school. Maybe he put on makeup here before he went off to school. He could be a stage actor. I don't think we've seen his face yet.”

“I think the boy has big plans. He definitely wants to be a star,” Sampson said. I want to be somebody!

Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 13

AGGIE ROSE DUNNE had awoken from the strangest sleep of her life. Horrible and indescribable bad dreams.

She felt as if everything around her were moving in slow motion. She was thirsty. She needed to pee awfully bad.

I'm too tired this morning, @. Please! I don't want to get up. Don't want to go to school today. please, Mom. I don't feel so good. Honest, I really don't, Mommy.

Maggie Rose opened her eyes. At least she thought she had opened her eyes, but she couldn't see anything. Nothing at all.

“MommY! Monimy! Mommy!” Maggie finally screamed, and couldn't stop screaming. For an hour after that, at least that long, she floated in and out of consciousness. She felt weak all over. She floated like a leaf on the hugest river. The currents just took her wherever they wanted.

She thought about her morn. Did she know Maggie was gone? Was she looking for her now? She had to be looking for her.

Maybe someone took her arms and legs off. She couldn't feel them. It must have been long ago.

It was black. She must be buried in the ground. She must be rotting and becoming a skeleton. Was that why she couldn't feel her arms and legs? Am I going to be like this forever? She couldn't stand that, and she was crying again. She was so confused. She couldn't think at all.

Maggie Rose could open and close her eyes, though. At least she thought she could. But there was just no difference with her eyes open or closed. Everything was darkness. Either way.

If she did it over and over, opened and closed her eyes real fast, she saw color.

Now, inside the blackness, she saw streaks and tears of color. Mostly red and bright yellow.

Maggie wondered if she might be strapped or tied down. Was that what they really did to you inside a casket? Did they strap you down? Why would they do that? To stop you from getting out of the ground? To keep your spirit under the earth forever and ever?

Suddenly, she remembered something. Mr. Soneji. A little of the fog that swirled around her cleared away for a second.

Mr. Soneji had taken her out of school. When had it happened? Why? Where was Mr. Soneji now?

And Michael! What had happened to Michael? They had left school together. She remembered that much.

She moved then, and the most amazing thing happened. She discovered that she could roll herself over.

That's what Maggie Rose did. She rolled over, and was suddenly up against something.

She could feel her whole body again. She still had a body to feel. She was absolutely certain she had her body and that she wasn't a skeleton.

And Maggie screamed!

She had rolled into someone or something.

Someone else was there in the dark with her.

Michael?

It had to be Michael.

“Michael?” Maggie's voice was so low it was barely a whisper. “Michael? Is that you?”

She waited for an answer.

“Michael?” she whispered louder.

“Michael, c'mon. Please talk to me.”

Whoever it was wouldn't answer. It was more terrifying than being alone.

"Michael... It's me.... Don't be afraid.... It's Maggie.... Michael, please wake up.

. "Oh, Michael, please... Please, Shrimpie. I was just kidding about your dopey school shoes. C'mon

Michael. Talk to me, Shrimpie. It's Dweebo Dido.

Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 14

HE DUNNE HOUSE was what local real-estate ma vens might call Lutyens-style neo-Elizabethan.

Neither Sampson nor I had seen too many of those in Southeast D.C. Inside, the house had the serenity and diversity I guess might be conu-non among the rich. There were a lot of expensive “things. ” Art Deco plaques, and oriental screens, a French sundial, a Turkestan rug, what looked like a Chinese or Japanese altar table. I remembered something Picasso had once said: “Give me a museum, and I'll fill it.”

There was a small bathroom off one of the formal sitting rooms. Chief of Detectives George Pittman grabbed me and pulled me in there minutes after I arrived. It was around eight o'clock. Too early for this. “What do you think you're doing?” he asked me. “What are you up to, Cross?”

The room was really cramped, no place for two goodsized, grown-up men to be. It wasn't your average toilet,

77 either. The floor was covered with a William Morris rug. A designer chair sat in one corner.

“I thought I would get some coffee. Then I was going to sit in on the morning briefing,” I said to Pittman. I wanted to get out of that bathroom so bad.

“Don't fuck around with me.” He started to raise his voice. “Do not fuck with me.”

Oh, don't do that, I wanted to say to him. Don't make a big, awful scene in here. I thought about putting his head underwater in the toilet bowl, just to keep him quiet.

“Lower your voice, or I'm leaving,” I said. I try to act in a reasonable and considerate manner most of the time. It's one of my character flaws.

“Don't tell me to lower my voice. Who the fuck told you to go home last night? You and Sampson. Who told you to go to the Soneji apartment this morning?”

“Is that what this is all about? Is that why we're in here together now?” I asked.

“You bet it is. I'm running this investigation. That means if you want to tie your shoe, you talk to me first. ”

I grinned. I couldn't help it. “Where'd you get that line? Did Lou Gossett say that in An Officer and a Gentleman?”

“You think this is a lot of fun and games, Cross?”

“No,, I don't. I don't think it's any fun. Now you keep the fuck out of my face, or you won't have one,” I warned him.

I walked out of the bathroom. Chief of Detectives Pittman didn't follow me. Yes, I can be provoked. No, that little turd shouldn't fuck with me.