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

The R.N. followed them in, and gave him a shot of Ativan. Within minutes, he was asleep on the floor of the cell.

The guards lifted him onto his cot and wrapped him in a restraining jacket. I waited until they locked him in the cell. Who was in the cell?

Gary Soneji?

Gary Murphy? Or both of them?

Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 51

HAT NIGHT, Chief Pittman called me at home. I didn't think he wanted to congratulate me on my work with Soneji/Murphy. I was right. The Jefe did ask me to stop by his office the next morning.

“What's up?” I asked him.

He wouldn't tell me over the phone. I guess he didn't want to spoil the surprise.

In,the morning, I made sure I was clean-shaven, and

I I put on my leather car coat for the occasion. layed a little Lady Day on the porch before I left the houseThink darkness and light. Be darkness and light. I played “The Man I Love,” “For All We Know”, “That's Life, I Guess.” Then off to see The Jefe.

When I arrived at Pittman's office, there was too much activity for quarter to eight in the morning. Even The Jefe's assistant seemed fully employed for a.change.

Old Fred Cook is a failed vice detective, now posing as an administrative assistant. He looks like one of the

268 artifacts they trot out for old-timer baseball games. Fred is mean-spirited, petty, and supremely political. Dealing through him is like giving messages to a wax-museum doll.

“Chief s ready for you.” He served up one of his thin-lipped smiles. Fred Cook relishes knowing things before the rest of us. Even when he doesn't know, he acts as if he does.

“What's going on this morning, Fred?” I asked him straight out. “You can tell me.”

I saw that all-knowing glint in his eyes. “Why don't you just go in there and see. I'm sure the chief will explain his intentions.”

I'm proud of you, Fred. You sure can be trusted with a secret. You know, you should be on the National Security Council."

I went inside expecting the worst. But I underestimated the chief of detectives a little.

Mayor Carl Monroe was in the office with Pittman. So was our police captain, Christopher Clouser, and, of all people, John Sampson. It appeared that one of Washington's ever-so-popular morning events, a workIng breakfast, had been set up in the chief's inner sancturn.

“ It's not all bad,” Sampson said in a low voice. In sharp contrast to his words, Sampson looked like a large animal caught in one of those double-clawed springtraps hunters use. I got the feeling he would happily have chewed his foot off to escape from the room.

“It's not bad at all.” Carl Monroe smiled jovially when he saw the chiseled look on my face. "We have some good news for you both. Very good news. Shall

I? Yeah, I think so.... You and Sampson are be ng promoted today. Right here. Congratulations to our newest senior detective and our newest divisional chief.

They clapped approvingly. Sam pson and I exchanged quizzical looks. What the hell was going on?

If I'd known, I would have brought Nana and the kids along. It was like those affairs where the president gives medals and thanks to war widows. Only this time, the dead had been invited to the ceremony. Sampson and I were dead in the eyes of Chief Pittman.

“Maybe you'd like to tell Sampson and me what's going on here,?” I smiled conspiratorially at Monroe. “You know, the subtext.”

Carl Monroe had his magnificent smile blazing away. It was so warm, and personal, and “genuine.” “I was asked to come here,” he said, “because you and Detective Sampson were being promoted. That's about it. I was very happy to come, Alex”-he made a comic face-“at quarter to eight this morning.”

Actually, it's hard not to like Carl sometimes. He's totally aware of who and what he's become as a politician. He reminds me of the prostitutes on 14th Street who will tell you a raunchy joke or two when you have to pull them in for soliciting.

“There are a couple of other things to discuss,” Pittman said, but then waved off the idea of any real substance entering the ceremonial conversation. “They'can wait until after. There's coffee and sweetcakes first.”

“I think we ought to discuss everything now,” I said. I shifted my eyes to Monroe. “Put it out on the table with the sweetcakes.”

EL

Monroe shook his head. "Why don't you go slow for a change.

“I'm not going to be able to run for public office, am 1?91 I said to the mayor. ”Not much of a politician."

Monroe shru gged, but he continued to smile. “I don't know about that, Alex. Sometimes a man changes to a more effective style as he gains experience. Sees what works, what doesn't. It's definitely more satisfying to be confrontational. Doesn't always serve the greater good, though. ”

I is that what this is about? The greater good? That's the topic for this morning's breakfast?" Sampson asked the group.

“I think so. Yes, I believe it is.” Monroe nodded and bit into one of the sweetcakes.

Chief Pittman poured coffee into an expensive china cup that was too small and delicate for his hand. It made me think of little watercress sandwiches. Rich people's unc S. I “We're bumping into the FBI, Justice, the Secret Service, on this kidnapping case. It's no good for anybody. We've decided to pull back completely. To take you off the case again,” Pittman finally said.

Bingo. The other shoe had dropped. The truth was out at our little working breakfast All of a sudden, everybody in the office was talking at once. At least two of us were shouting. Neat party.

“This is total bullshit,” Sampson told the mayor to his face. “And you know it. You do know it, don't '?” you.

' I've begun sessions with Soneji/Murphy,“ I said to Pittman and Monroe and Captain Clouser. ”I hypno tized him yesterday. Jesus fucking Christ, no. Don't do this. Not now."

“We're aware of your progress with Gary Soneji. We had to make a decision, and we've made it.”

“You want the truth, Alex?” Carl Monroe's voice suddenly rang out in the room. “You want to hear the truth about this?”

I looked at him. “Always.” Monroe stared right into my eyes. "A great dealof pressure has been used by the attorney general on a lot of people in Washington. A huge trial will begin, I believe, within six weeks at the most. The Orient Express has already left the station, Alex. You're not on it. I'm not on it. It's gotten much bigger than either of us. Soneji/Murphy is on it....

“The prosecutor, the Justice Department, has decided to stop your sessions with Soneii/Murphy. A team of psychiatrists has been formally assigned to him. That's the way it will work from here on. That's the way it's going to be. This case has moved into a new phase, and our involvement won't be needed.” Sampson and I walked out on our own party. Our involvement was no longer needed.

Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 52

OR THE NEXT WEEK, I got home from work at a sane hour, usually between six and six-thirty. No more eighty-and hundred-hour work weeks. DaMon and Janelle couldn't have been happier if I'd been fired from the job outright.

We rented Wait Disney and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles videos, listened to the three-disc set Billie Holiday: The Legacy 1933-1958, fell asleep on the couch together. All 'sorts of amazing good stuff. one afternoon, the kids and I visited Maria's grave ther Jannie nor Damon had completely gotten site. Nei over losing their morn. On the way out of the cemetery, I stopped at another grave, Mustaf Sanders's final place. I could still see his sad little eyes staring at me. The eyes were asking me, Why? No answer yet, Mustaf. But I wasn't ready to give UP.

On a Saturday toward the end of summer, Sampson and I made the long drive to Princeton, New Jersey. Maggie Rose Dunne still hadn't been found. Neither