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

“Oh, we will,” Sampson said to her.

This was rich material, and I was relieved to hear it. Before this, there had been nothing, or very little, for us to go on.

“Is his real mother alive?” I asked her.

“I don't know. Gary just won't talk about her. He won't discuss her at all.” “What about the stepmother?”

“Gary didn't like his stepmother. Apparently she was very -attached to her own children. He called her 'The Whore of Babylon.' I believe she was originally from West Babylon in New York. I think it's out on Long Island somewhere. ”

After months without any information, I couldn't get the questions out fast enough. Everything I'd heard so far was tracking. An important question loomed: Had Gary Soneji/Murphy been telling the truth to his wife? Was he capable of telling the truth to another person?

“Mrs. Murphy, do you have any idea where he might have gone?” I asked now. “Something really frightened Gary,” she said. “I think maybe it relates to his job somehow. And to my brother, who's his employer. I can't imagine that he went home to New Jersey, but maybe he did. Maybe Gary went back home. He is impulsive.”

One of the FBI agents, Marcus Connor, peeked into the kitchen where we were talking. “Can I see both of you for a minute?... I'm sony, this will just be one minute,” he said to Mrs. Murphy. Connor escorted us down into the basement of the house. Gerry Scorse, Reilly, and Kyle Craig from the FBI were already down there, waiting.

Scorse held up a pair of Fido Dido socklets. I recognized them from descriptions of what Maggie Rose Dunne had been wearing the day of the kidnapping. Also from visits to the little girl's room, where I'd seen her collection of clothes and trinkets. “So, what do you think, Alex?” Scorse asked me. I had noticed that whenever things got really weird, he asked for my opinion.

“Exactly what I said about the sneaker in Washington. He left it for us. He's playing a game now. He wants us to play with him.”

Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 40

HE OLD DU PONT HOTEL in downtown Wilmington was a convenient place to get some sleep. It had a nice quiet bar, and Sampson and I planned on doing some quiet drinking there. We didn't think we'd have company, but we were surprised when Jezzie Flanagan, Klepner, and some of the FBI agents joined us for nightcaps We were tired and frustrated after the near-miss with Gary Soneji/Murphy. We drank a lot of hard liquor in a short time. Actually, we got along well. “The team. ” We got loud, played liar's poker, raised some hell in the tony Delaware Room that night. Sampson talked to Jezzie Flanagan for a while. He thought she was a good cop, too.

The drinking finally tailed down, and we wandered off to find our rooms, which were scattered throughout the spacious Du Pont.

Jeb Klepner, Jezzie, and I climbed the thickly carpeted stairs to our rooms on two and three. The Du Pont

204 was a mausoleum at quarter to three in the morning. There wasn't any traffic outside on the main drag through Wilmington.

Klepner's room was on the second floor. “I'm going to go watch some soft-core pornography,” he said as he split off from us. "That usually helps me get right to sleep.

“Sweet dreams,” Jezzie said. “Lobby at seven.”

Klepner groaned as he trudged down the hallway to his room. Jezzie and I climbed the winding flight to the next floor. It was so quiet you could hear the stoplight outside, making clicking noises as it changed from green to yellow to red.

“I'm still wound tight,” I said to her. “I can _see Soneji/Murphy. Two faces. They're both very distinct in my head.” i 6I'm wired, too. It's my nature. What would you do if you were home instead of here?" Jezzie asked.

“I'd probably go play the piano out on our porch. Wake the neighborhood with a little blues.”

Jezzie laughed out loud. “We could go back down to the Delaware Room. There was an old upright in there. Probably belonged to one of the Du Ponts. You play, I'll have one more drink. ”

“That bartender left about ten seconds after we did. He's home in his bed already.” We'd reached the Du Pont's third floor. There was a gentle bend in the hallway. Omate signs on the wall listed room numbers and their direction. A few guests had their shoes out to be shined overnight.

“I'm three eleven.” Jezzie pulled a white card-key from the pocket of her jacket.

“I'm in three thirty-four. Time to call it a night. Start fresh in the morning.”

Jezzie smiled and she looked into my eyes. For the first time that I could remember, neither of us had anything to say.

I took her into my arms, and held her gently. We kissed in the hallway. I hadn't kissed anyone like that in a while. I wasn't sure who had started the kiss, actually.

“You're very beautiful,” I whispered as our lips drew apart. The words just came out. Not my best effort, but the truth. Jezzie smiled and shook her head. “My lips are too puffy and big. I look like I was dropped face-first as a kid. You're the good-looking one. You look like Muhammad Ali.”

,, Sure I do. After he took too many punches."

“A few punches, maybe. To add character. Just the nght number of hard knocks. Your smile's nice, too. Smile for me, Alex.”

I kissed those puffy lips again. They were perfect as far as I could tell.

There's a lot of myth about black men desiring: white women; about some white women wanting to experi' ment with black men. Jezzie Flanagan was a smart, extremely desirable woman. She was somebody I could talk to, somebody I wanted to be around.

And there we were, snuggled in each other's arms at around three in the morning. We'd both had a little too much to drink, but not a lot too much. No myths involved. Just two people alone, in a strange town, on a very strange night in both of our lives.

I wanted to )e ie Jezzie did, too. The look in her eyes was sweet and comfortable. But there was also a brittleness that night. There was a network of tiny red veins in the comers of her eyes. Maybe she could still see Soneji/Murphy, too. We'd been so close to getting him. Only a half step behind this time.

I studied Jezzie's face in a way I couldn't have before, and never thought that I would. I ran a finger lightly over her cheeks. Her skin was soft and smooth. Her blond hair was like silk between my fingers. Her perfume was subtle, like wildflowers. A phrase drifted through my head. Don't start anything you can'tfinish.

“Well, Alex?” Jezzie said, and she raised an eyebrow. “This is a knotty problem, isn't it?”

“Not for two smart cops like us,” I said to her. We took the soft left turn down the hotel hallwayand headed toward room 31 1.

“Maybe we should think twice about this,” I said as we walked.

“Maybe I already have,” Jezzie whispered back. some)ody nght tien. I think

Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 41

T ONE-THIRTY in the morning, Gary Soneji/Murphy walked out of a Motel 6 in Reston, Virginia. AHe caught his reflection in a glass door.

The new Gary-the Gary du jour-looked back at him. Black pompadour and a grungy beard; dusty shitkicker's clothes. He knew he could play this part. Put on an Old Dixie drawl. For as long as he needed to, anyway. Not too long. Don't anybody blink.

Gary got into the battered VW and started to drive. He was completely wired. He loved this part of the plan more than he loved his life. He couldn't separate the two anymore. This was the most daring part of the entire adventure. Real high-wire stuff.

Why was he so revved? he wondered as his mind drifted. Just because half the police and FBI bastards in the continental U.S.A. were out looking for him?

Because he'd kidnapped two rich brats and one had died? And the other-Maggie Rose? He didn't even want to think about that-what had really happened to her.