Chapter One Hundred and Two
I had to say goodbye to Jamilla Hughes again, and each time it was a little harder. We'd been through so much together in such a short time. I made her promise to be extremely careful, even paranoid, for the next few days. She promised. Finally I got on another plane out of San Francisco International. The mysterious phone calls had stopped, but that was scary and unsettling too. I didn't know where Kyle was, or what he was doing. Was he still watching me? Had he somehow followed me back to Washington? I shouldn't be having thoughts like that, but I was, and I couldn't stop them from coming. Did he have binoculars focused on me as I walked up the sidewalk to myAuntTia's house in Chapel Gate, Maryland, about fifteen miles from Baltimore? How could he know I was here? Why, because that's what he did for a living. Could he get past Sampson and me? I didn't think so. But how could I know with complete certainty. The kids were enjoying their short vacation with AuntTia. She had always spoiled them, just as she had spoiled me as a kid. 'Same old, same old' she liked to say when she served you a piece of hot pie in the middle of the afternoon, or gave you an unexpected present. Nana was more understanding than I thought she would be. I think she liked being with her 'little sister'. Tia was younger than Nana, 'only seventy-eight', but she was spry, very contemporary in her outlook, and she was a fabulous cook. That night, she and Nana made penne with gorgonzola cheese, broccoli rabe, and sock-it tome cake. I ate as if it were my last meal.
-------------- 276 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
Then the kids and I played and talked until the outrageous hour of eleven o'clock, way past their usual bedtime. They are by no means perfect, but the good times with them certainly outweigh the bad. I tend to talk more about the good, and why not. I'm a father and I love Damon, Jannie and little Alex more than life itself. Maybe that says something, too. I went back to Washington the following morning. A team of FBI agents had been assigned to my family. It was the kind of attention I'd hoped we would never need. Frankly, it scared the hell out of me. That afternoon, I attended a meeting at the FBI building and learned that more than four hundred agents were assigned to finding and capturing Kyle Craig. So far, nothing had gotten out to the press, and Director Burns wanted to keep it that way. So did I. More than that, I wanted to catch Kyle quickly, hopefully before he killed again. But who would he kill? Who might Kyle go after next?
277
Chapter One Hundred and Three
< ^* hristine, it's Alex/I said. I had butterflies in my stomach/I hate V^to bother you like this. It's important or I wouldn't call.'That was sure the truth. God, I hadn't wanted to make this call. 'Is little Alex okay?'she asked.'Is it Nana?' 'No, no. Everybody's fine.'I told a half-truth. There was a brief, uncomfortable silence. Christine and I had been engaged to be married. She was the one who had broken it off, because she couldn't handle my life as a homicide detective. Too many bad scenes just like this one. 'Alex, this isn't good news, is it? Geoffrey Shafer? Is he back in the country?' she asked. She sounded afraid and I felt for her. Geoffrey Shafer had kidnapped her. 'No, this isn't about Shafer.' I told her about Kyle Craig. She knew him, liked Kyle, and I could tell she felt violated. She had been hurt badly by the monsters I had met in my work. She couldn't completely forgive me for that, and I didn't blame her much. I couldn't forgive myself sometimes. Talking to Christine made me remember how much I'd loved her. Probably still did. 'Is there somewhere safe you can stay for a while? It's important that you go there,' I finally said. 'I hate to do this to you. Kyle is extremely dangerous, Christine.' 'Oh, Alex. I came out here to be safe. I felt I was safe, but now you're back in my life.' She said she would stay with somebody she trusted, a friend. I
-------------- 278 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
asked Christine not to say who or where it was over the phone. When she hung up, she was crying. I felt so bad for her; so terrible about what had happened. The call brought back everything that was wrong between us. I kept calling people I cared about. I talked to everyone I could think of who had had some contact with Kyle. I called Jamilla next. My excuse was that I wanted to remind her to be careful - even now. But I think I just wanted to talk to her. She'd been in on so much of this. Unfortunately, she was out when I called. I left a message that I was worried about her, and to please be careful. I warned a few detective friends - Rakeem Powell and Jerome Thurman - who were still on the DC force. I doubted Kyle would go after them, but I didn't know for sure. I phoned my chief contact at the Washington Post, a .writer named Zachary Scott Taylor. Zach was also one of my best friends in Washington. He wanted to interview me, but I told him not to come. Kyle was jealous of the stories Zach had written about me. He had told me as much. For whatever reason, he didn't like Zach. 'This is serious,' I told Zach. 'Don't under-estimate how crazy this man is. You're on his shit list, and that's a bad place to be.' I spoke to FBI agents Scorse and Reilly who had worked with me on the kidnapping of Maggie Rose Dunne and Michael Goldberg. They knew about the manhunt for Kyle, but hadn't been concerned for their own safety. Now they were. I called my niece, Naomi, who'd been kidnapped by Casanova. Naomi was practicing law in Jacksonville, Florida. She was living with a good guy named Seth Samuel Taylor. They were planning to marry later this year.'He likes to ruin other people's happiness,'! told Naomi.'Be careful. I know you will be.' I called Kate McTieman in North Carolina. I remembered the meal she'd had with Kyle and me. Did it mean anything more than what it seemed on the surface? Who knew with Kyle. Kate promised to be extra careful, and reminded me she was a third-degree black belt now. Kyle had always liked Kate, and I reminded her of that. Actually, the more I talked to Kate, the more worried I was about her. 'Don't
-------------- 279 --------------
JA/VIES PATTERSOIM
take any chances, Kate. Kyle is the craziest person I've ever met.' I contacted Sandy Greenberg, a good friend at Interpol who had worked with Kyle several times. She was shocked to learn that Kyle was a murderer. She promised to be extra careful until he was caught; she also offered to help in any way that she could. Kyle Craig was a cold, heartless murderer. My partner at times, my friend, or so I'd thought. I still couldn't believe it. Not completely. I tried to make up a possible hit list for Kyle. 1. Myself 2. Nana and the kids 3. Sampson 4. Jamilla I realized I was making the list from my point of view, and although Kyle seemed focused on me, his obsessions might extend even farther. I tried another list. 1. Kyle's family - every member 2. Myself - and my family 3. Director Burns of the FBI 4. Jamilla 5. Kate McTiernan I sat in my empty house on Fifth Street and wondered what the hell he would do next. It was driving me crazy; I felt like I was running in circles. Kyle was capable of anything.
280
Chapter One Hundred and Four
He finally called again. 'I killed them, and I don't feel a thing. Nothing at all. You will, though, Alex. In a way, you're to blame. Nobody but you. I didn't even want to kill them, but I had to do it. That's the way the horror story has to go. It's out of control now. I'll admit that.' The horrifying confession came at quarter past five in the morning. I had been asleep about three hours when the phone rang. Panic raced through my body. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. 'Who did you kill?'I asked Kyle.'Who? Tell me who it was. Tell me: 'What difference does it make. They're dead, slaughtered. It's someone you care about. There's nothing you can do now - except catch me. I suppose I could help you. Isn't that what you want to hear? Would that make this more interesting for you? Would it make it fair7' He started to laugh uncontrollably. Christ, I had never seen him lose control. I let him go on. Inflate his ego. That's what he wanted and needed, wasn't it? Who had Kyle killed? Oh God, who was dead? It was more than one person - slaughtered. 'We always worked as a team. In a way, it would be my crowning moment, to catch myself. I've thought about it, actually. Fantasized. What better challenge could there be? I can't think of one. Me against myself.' He started to laugh again. I had to force myself not to ask again who he had murdered. It
-------------- 281 --------------
JAAAES PATTERSON
would just make Kyle angry. He might hang up. Still, my mind was grinding. I was incredibly afraid. Christine? Kate? Jamilla? Someone at the FBI? Who? Oh God, who was it? Jesus, have some mercy, have pity. Show me that you're human, you bastard. 'I'm not a highly trained psychologist like yourself, but here's one amateur's theory anyway,' Kyle said. 'I think this whole rage thing might be about sibling rivalry. Could it be? You know, Alex, I have a younger brother. He came along at the height of my Oedipus complex, when I was a mere lad of two. He displaced me with my mother and father. Check into it, Alex. Consult with Quantico. Could be important.' He was so calm, and he was ridiculing me - as a detective and as a psychologist. My hands were starting to shake. I'd had enough.'Who did you kill this time?' I yelled into the phone. 'Who is it?' Kyle broke my heart. He told me in great detail about the murders he'd just committed. I was certain that he was telling the truth. Then he hung up, even as I cursed him to hell. Minutes later I was in my car, bleary-eyed, numb, rushing across Washington to the terrible murder scene.
282
Chapter One Hundred and Five
No, no, no! It was like a knife thrust into my heart, then twisted until I screamed. Kyle had hurt me badly, and he wanted me to know something: there was worse to come. This was just the beginning. I stood silent and transfixed in the bedroom of Zach and Liz Taylor. My eyes were blurred by tears. Two of my dearest friends were dead. I had been to their house dozens of times before - for parties, dinner, late-night talks. Zach and Liz had visited on Fifth Street many times. Zach was Godfather to little Alex. My only consolation was that they had died quickly. Kyle was probably nervous about getting caught. He knew he had to get in and out of their apartment in the Adams-Morgan section of Washington quickly. Whatever his reason, he had killed the Taylors with single gunshots to the head. He hadn't bothered to mutilate the bodies. I thought the message was clear: This wasn't about them. It was about the two of us. Zach and Liz Taylor hadn't mattered one way or the other to him. Maybe that was the worst thing of all. How easily he could kill. How much he wanted to hurt me. This was just the start of it. It would get worse. There was no evidence of rage, no passion at this crime scene. I almost got the sense that once he was inside their bedroom he'd had second thoughts. Oh Kyle, Kyle. Have mercy on us.
-------------- 283 --------------
JAAAES PATTERSOISI
I made mental notes - no need to write any of this down. I knew every horrifying detail by heart. I would never forget any of it until the day I died. The gunshots had blown away the sides of their faces. I had to force myself to look. I remembered how in love they had always seemed to me. Zach had once told me that 'Liz is the only person I know who I enjoy being with on a long car ride/That was the test for him. They never ran out of things to say to one another. I felt incredibly hollowed out as I stared at them. They were gone now. What a terrible waste, what a horror show. I walked past their bodies to a large casement window that looked out on the street. I was feeling so unreal. I saw the marquee sign for Cafe Lautrec, closed now. I thought about Kyle on the run, what he must be thinking, where he might go next. I wanted to catch him, to stop him. No, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to hurt him in the worst way possible. Someone from the Crime Scene Unit edged up to me, a sergeant named Ed Lyie. 'Sorry about your loss. What do you want from us, Detective? We're ready to get to work here.' 'Sketch, video, photograph,'! told Lyie. But I really didn't need any of it. I didn't need any more graven images, or even any evidence. I knew who the killer was.
284
Chapter One Hundred and Six
I got home around one that afternoon. I needed to sleep, but I couldn't stay down for more than a couple of hours. I got up and paced through the empty house on Fifth Street. I kept walking from room to room. I felt the need to stop a terrible disaster from happening, but I didn't know where to start. The possible hit lists for Kyle were continually running through my head: my family, Sampson, Christine, Jamilla Hughes, Kate McTiernan, my niece Naomi, Kyle's own family. I couldn't get the image of Zach and Liz out of my head. They had been executed in the prime of their lives - because of me. Finally, I was able to throw up, and it was the best thing that had happened to me that day. I pushed out my guts. Then I slammed the bathroom mirror with the heel of my hand and nearly broke it. Kyle was always a f*cking step ahead, right? It had been that way for so many years now. He was such an unbelievable bastard. He had complete confidence in his abilities, including his power to elude us any time he wanted to. What would be next? Who would he kill? Who? Who? How could he make himself disappear after the killings? How did he blend in and become invisible when so many people were looking for him? He had money; he had taken care of that when he'd played the role of the Mastermind. So what was next for him? I worked at my computer late into the night and early morning. The computer was beside my bedroom window. Was he outside
-------------- 285 --------------
JAMES PATTERSOIM
watching? I didn't think even Kyle would take that kind of chance now. But hell, how could I rule anything out? He was capable of large-scale mass murder. If that was his plan, where would he strike? Washington? New York City? LA? Chicago? His old hometown of Charlotte, North Carolina? Maybe somewhere in Europe? London? Was his family safe - his wife and his two children? I had vacationed with them in Nags Head one summer. I'd stayed at their home in Virginia a few times over the years. His wife Louise was a dear friend. I had promised her I would try to bring Kyle in alive if I possibly could. But now I wondered - did I want to keep that promise? What would I do if I ever caught up with him? He might go after his own parents, especially since he put part of the heavy blame for his behavior on his father. William Hyland Craig had been a general in the army, then chairman of the board of two Fortune 500 companies in and around Charlotte. Nowadays, he gave lectures at ten to twenty thousand a pop; he was on half a dozen boards. He had beaten Kyle as a boy, disciplined him ruthlessly, taught him to hate. Sibling rivalry? Kyle had brought it up himself. He had been highly competitive with his younger brother until Blake's death in a hunting accident in 1991. Had Kyle actually killed Blake? What about the older brother, who still lived in North Carolina? Did he think of me as a younger brother? Did Kyle see Blake in me? He was competing with me, and he'd tried to control me from the start. The women in my life might have represented a threat to him, an extreme variant of sibling rivalry. Was that why he had killed Betsey Cavalierre? What about Maureen Cooke in New Orleans? And Jamilla? I made a note to think carefully and plot out one particular angle, a dysfunctional family triangle, with both Kyle and me a part of it. One step ahead. So far anyway. If he came after his family, or his parents, we would have him. They were being closely protected in Charlotte. The FBI was all over them.
-------------- 286 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
Kyle knew that. He wouldn't do anything stupid - just cruel and nasty. One step ahead. That seemed to be the key to Kyle's fantasy life, at least as I understood it so far. He wouldn't make the obvious move. He would go at least one move, maybe two, beyond that. But how did he stay a step ahead, especially now? A very bad thought had been running through my head lately. Maybe there was someone in the FBI helping him - maybe Kyle had a partner. I had finally drifted off to sleep when the phone in my bedroom woke me. It was three in the morning. Goddamn him. Doesn't he ever sleep? I picked it up, clicked it off, then unplugged the phone from the wall. No more phone tag, Kyle. F*ck you. I was setting the rules now. This was my game, not his.
287
Chapter One Hundred and Seven
In the morning, I drank too much black coffee and thought about our last case together: the Tiger, Daniel and Charles, Peter Westin, the Alexander brothers. What did it mean in Kyle's fantasy? The macabre story he was plotting out involved both of us. He had asked me into the investigation, then used it to control me. Was that where it ended for him, and me? I kept trying to piece together the puzzle from a psychologist's point of view. The rest might flow from that. Might. With Kyle, there was no knowing for sure. If he saw a clear pattern, he might reverse it; if he understood his own pathology, and maybe he did, he would use that in his favor too. Around noon, I called Kyle's older brother, Martin, a radiologist living outside Charlotte - where we had once believed that Daniel and Charles had begun their murder spree. Did Kyle have a previous connection with them? Was that a possibility? Martin Craig tried to help, but he finally admitted that he and his brother hadn't spoken during the past ten years. 'We saw one another at my brother Blake's funeral,'Martin said/That was the last time. I don't like my brother. Detective Cross. He doesn't like me. I don't know if he likes anybody.' 'Was your father especially rough on Kyle?' I asked Martin. 'Kyle always said so, but to tell the truth, I never saw much of it. Neither did my mother. Kyle liked to make up stories. He was always the big hero, or the pathetic victim. My mother used to say that Kyle had an ego second only to God's.'
-------------- 288 --------------
VIOLETS ARE. BLUE
'What did you think about that? Your mother's assessment of your brother?' 'Detective Cross, my brother didn't believe in God, and he wasn't second to anyone.' The continuing theme throughout the three brothers' relationship had been competition, and Kyle had always believed that Martin and Blake won in the eyes of his parents. Kyle had been a starter on the high school basketball team, but Martin had been the clever all- county point guard, who also played bass guitar in a local band, and had an enviable social life. There had once been a feature story in the local paper about the basketball-playing brothers, but the article dealt mostly with Blake and Martin. They had all attended Duke Undergraduate, but Martin and Blake went on to medical school. Kyle became a lawyer, a career choice his father deplored. Kyle had talked to me about sibling rivalry, and maybe I was beginning to understand a little of the origins of his fantasy world. 'Martin,' I finally asked, 'is it possible that Kyle murdered your younger brother, Blake?' 'Blake died in a hunting accident - supposedly,' Martin Craig said. 'Detective Cross, my brother Blake was an incredibly responsible and careful man, almost as careful as Kyle. He didn't accidentally shoot himself. I've always believed with all my heart that Kyle had something to do with it. But who would believe me? That's why he and I haven't spoken in ten years. My brother is Cain. I believe he's a murderer, and I want to see him caught. I want to see my brother go to the electric chair. That's what Kyle deserves.'
289
^ ^
Chapter One Hundred and Ei^ht
Nothing ever starts where we think it does. I kept remembering that Kyle had done nearly all of the TV and print interviews after the capture of Peter Westin in the foothills outside Santa Cruz. He'd wanted the praise. He'd wanted to be the star, the only one. In a way, that's what he was now: the brightest star of all. I had one decent idea about what to do next, something proactive that might bother Kyle. I contacted the FBI and discussed it with Director Burns. He liked it too. At four o'clock that afternoon, a press conference was called in the lobby of the FBI building. Director Burns was there to speak briefly and then to introduce me. Burns stated in no uncertain terms that I would be involved in the manhunt until Kyle Craig was brought to justice, and that Kyle would definitely be caught. I was wearing a black leather car coat and I buttoned it up as I stepped up to the mikes. I was playing this for all it was worth. I wanted to look self-important. I wanted to look like the star. Not Kyle. This was my manhunt. Not his. He was the prey. There was the usual mechanical buzz and hum of cameras, the incessant flashes, and all those inquiring minds of the press, those cynical eyes staring up at me, waiting for answers that I couldn't give them. It set my nerves on edge. My voice was as grave and important-sounding as I could make it. 'My name is Alex Cross. I'm a homicide detective in DC. I've worked closely with Special Agent In Charge Kyle Craig over the past five years. I know him extremely well.' I went into some detail on our
-------------- 290 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
past together. I tried to sound like a pompous know-it-all. The doctor detective. 'Kyle has been helpful in solving a few murders. He was a competent number two, excellent support for me. He was an overachiever type, but a tireless worker. 'We will capture him soon, but Kyle, if you can hear me, wherever you are, I urge you to listen closely. Give yourself up. I can help you. I've always been able to help. Give yourself up to me. It's the only chance you have.' I paused and stared into the TV cameras, then I stepped back slowly from the microphones. The camera flashes were everywhere. They were treating me like the star now. Just as I had hoped they would. Director Burns said a few more words about his concern for public safety and the extent of the FBI manhunt. He thanked me profusely for being there. As I stood beside Director Burns, I continued to stare out into the TV cameras. I knew that Kyle would be looking right at me. I was sure that he'd see this segment, and that it would infuriate him. I was sending Kyle a clear message, a challenge. Come and get me, if you can. You're not the Mastermind anymore - I am.
291
Chapter One Hundred and Nine
Now, I waited. I went to visit Nana and the kids early the next morning. A team of three FBI vehicles traveled with me. We were hoping that Kyle might take the bait and follow. Not surprisingly, he didn't show. No one really expected that he would, but we were willing to try anything at this point. Aunt Tia had a small clapboard house that was painted yellow with white aluminum shutters. It was located on a quiet street in Chapell Gate, which she called 'the country'. As I drove up to the small house, I saw no evidence of the FBI, which was a good sign, I thought. They were doing their job well. The special agent in charge was a man named Peter Schweitzer. He had an excellent reputation. Schweitzer met me at the front door and introduced me to the six other agents inside Tia's house. When I was fully satisfied about security, I went to see Nana and the kids.'Hello, Daddy/'Hello Dad/'Hello, Alex.'Everybody seemed especially glad to see me, even Nana. They were having a big breakfast in the kitchen and Tia was busy making pancakes and hot sausages. She put out her arms for a hug and then everybody grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. I must admit, I liked the attention; I needed the hugs. 'They can't get enough of you, Alex/Tia laughed, and clapped both hands, just the way she'd been doing for years. 'That's 'cause we don't see enough of him,' Damon taunted. 'The job's almost done,'I said, hoping that was true, not completely
-------------- 292 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
believing it/At least you're all getting three squares a day/I laughed and gaveTia an extra hug. I ate some breakfast and stayed at Tia's for more than an hour. We never stopped talking the whole time, but only once did anyone bring up the current difficult and scary situation. 'When can we go back home?' Damon asked. They all stared at me, waiting for a good answer. Even little Alex held me in his gaze.'I won't lie to you,'I said finally.'We have to find Kyle Craig first. Then we can go home.' 'And it can be just like before?' Jannie asked. I recognized a trick question.'Even better than that,'I told her.'I'm going to make some big changes soon. I promise you.'
293
Chapter One Hundred and Ten
I left for Charlotte, North Carolina, on a ten o'clock flight out of DC. I was heading south to visit Craig family members. Maybe Kyle was there as well. It wouldn't surprise me. His father, William Craig, chose not to be home when I arrived at the estate where Kyle and his brothers had been raised. It was a gentleman's farm with a rambling stone and wood house set on over forty acres in horse country. Someone on the staff told me it cost over fifteen dollars a yard just to paint all the white fences running around the pastures. I spoke with Miriam Craig on a rear porch, which overlooked wildflower gardens and a rock-filled brook. She seemed very much in control of her emotions, which surprised me, but maybe shouldn't have. Mrs Craig told me a great deal about her family. 'Kyle's father and I had no idea, no clue about his darker side, if indeed the terrible allegations are true,' she said. 'Kyle was always distant, reserved, introspective I suppose you could say, but there was nothing to suggest that he might be this troubled. He did well in school, and in athletics. Kyle even plays the piano with a beautiful touch.' /! never knew he played,' I said, and yet Kyle had often commented on my playing. 'Did you and his father tell him how well he was doing - in school, for example? In athletics? I suspect that boys need to hear that more than we know.' Mrs Craig took offense.'He didn't want to hear it. He'd say, "I know" and then walk away from us. Almost as if we had disappointed him by stating the obvious.'
-------------- 294 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
'His brothers did better than Kyle in school?' 'In terms of grades, yes, but the boys were all high-honor students. Most teachers saw Kyle as being deeper. I believe that he had the highest IQ, one-forty-nine if I remember correctly. He chose not to apply himself to every subject. He had a strong will, even as a young boy.' 'But there were no obvious signs that he was severely troubled?' 'No, Detective Cross. Believe me, I've thought about it a lot.' 'Kyle's father would agree?' 'We talked about it just last night. He agrees. He's just too upset to be here. Kyle's father is a proud man, and a good one. William Craig is a very good man.' Next, I went to see Kyle's brother in Charlotte. I talked to Dr Craig in a white-on-white conference room at the clinic where he was a partner. 'I found Kyle to be caustic and very cruel. I know that Blake did as well,' he confessed over tea. 'Cruel in what way?'I asked. 'Not to small animals or anything obvious like that - to other people. Actually, Kyle liked animals just fine. He was vicious at school, though. Both verbally and physically. A real prick. Nobody liked him much. He had no close friends that I remember. That's odd, isn't it? Kyle never had a single close friend. Let me tell you something. Detective, during Kyle's sophomore and most of his junior years, our father made him sleep in the garage because he was so unpleasant to have around.' 'That seems a little severe,' I commented. Nothing I'd heard so far was so revealing. Kyle had never mentioned the punishment, though. Neither had Mrs Craig. All she'd said was that Kyle's father was a good man, whatever that meant. 'I don't think it was severe. Detective. I think it was fair, and much less than he deserved. Kyle should have been thrown out of our house when he was around thirteen. My brother was a goddamn monster, and apparently, he still is.'
295
Chapter One Hundred and Eleven
Who would Kyle go after next? It was the question that obsessed me. I couldn't let it go. When I got home that night, I began to think about going out to Seattle. I had a bad feeling. Lots of them, actually. Would Kyle go after Christine Johnson next? He knew how to strike to cause the most hurt. Kyle knew me so well - but apparently, I didn't know Kyle at all. Would he go after Christine? Or maybe Jamilla? Was I thinking the way Kyle would? One step ahead. God damn him to hell. Maybe he would just come after me; maybe all I had to do was stay in the house on Fifth Street and wait for him to show up. The question was burning inside my head. What was everybody missing? What did Kyle want - more than anything else? What motivated him? Who was on Kyle's vicious hit list - besides me? Kyle wanted to exert his will, but he also craved the most exquisite and forbidden pleasures. What had moved him in the past was sex, rape, money - millions of dollars - revenge against those he hated. I finally went to bed at one-thirty, but surprise, surprise, I couldn't sleep. I kept seeing Kyle's face every time I shut my eyes. His look was smug and confident. He was the most arrogant human being I had ever met. Possibly the most evil. I thought back about all our times together, all our long, philosophical talks, anything I could remember. I turned on the bed table light and scribbled more notes. Kyle was methodical and logical, but then he could surprise me with
-------------- 296 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
a tactic or strategy completely off the charts. I thought about the raid in Santa Cruz. The vampire murders seemed far away already. He had wanted me there so that I could see him be the hero. That was the whole point, wasn't it? He needed me to see how good he was. He wanted to take down Peter Westin by himself. Suddenly, a question popped into my head. A really good one. Where had he been unable to exert his will? What were Kyle's darkest fantasies? What were his daydreams? His secret desires? Where had he been thwarted in the past? The worst is yet to come. He was only starting with Zach and Liz Taylor. Was he about to go on a bloody rampage? And then I recalled a particular fantasy that Kyle had shared with me one night after we had finished one of our worst cases. I remembered something he'd said, and couldn't get it out of my head. I snatched up the phone and began to dial long distance. I hoped that I wasn't too late. I thought I knew who he was going to kill next. Oh no, Kyle. Oh God, no!
297
Chapter One Hundred and Twelve
Maybe I was just going crazy. I drove for nearly six hours on 195 headed to Nags Head, North Carolina. I kept changing radio stations to keep myself alert. I was thinking to myself that Kyle didn't want this to end - he was having too much fun; he was in his glory. I had been in this part of North Carolina before, with Kate McTiernan. So had Kyle. We were trying to stop the sadistic killer named Casanova. He had kept as many as eight women captive in the woods near Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Kyle had been on our team, or so I had believed. But Kyle had also been Casanova's partner in murder. I made it to Nags Head just before nightfall. As I drove toward the ocean, I remembered odd things: the sticky buns from the Nags Head Market; my long walks with Kate McTiernan along Coquina Beach; the lovely, almost supematurally picturesque beaches in Jockey's Ridge State Park. I remembered how much I admired Kate. We were still good friends, talked at least twice a month. She sent my kids imaginative presents on their birthdays and at Christmas. She was working at the Regional Medical Center in Kitty Hawk and living with a local bookseller whom she was going to marry. Their home was in Nags Head, only a couple of miles away. Kyle had a deep, obvious crush on Kate McTiernan. He'd hinted at it: T could love that girl, if I didn't have Louise and the kids. Maybe I should dump them for Kate. She could make me a happy man. Kate could save me.' He had come to visit Kate in Nags Head. I think he'd come to
-------------- 298 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
watch her. It bothered him that he couldn't have her, that he had been denied Kate McTiernan. He also knew how much Kate meant to me. Kyle was here, wasn't he? Or he was coming. I had warned Kate, but on the drive down I called again and explicitly told her to get the hell out of Nags Head. I didn't care how much karate she knew, or how many black belts she had accumulated. I was going to stay at her place. I thought that Kyle might be coming, too. I didn't think he wanted to watch anymore. If he was coming here, he wanted to kill Kate. I took a deep breath as I finally drove into town. It all looked so familiar, serene and beautiful, like nothing bad should ever happen here. The worst is yet to come, I kept thinking. That's why he killed Zach and Liz Taylor first. He set up his pattern with them. The Taylors were just the beginning. A warning of things to come. I drove down a narrow, paved road that weaved its way alongside wind-blown sand dunes. I was looking for any sign of Kyle. Number 1021 was a two-story clapboard beach house directly across from the ocean. Very quaint and stylish, very Kate McTiernan. If Kyle got to her, I would never forgive myself. A Scottish flag was flying above the rooftop, and that was pure McTiernan, too. As I had asked, her six-year-old Volvo was still parked in the driveway; the houselights were on, shining like beacons to guide me - and maybe Kyle as well. It made it look like somebody was home, and now somebody was. Everything felt surreal to me. My nervous system was spiking. My hairs were standing on end. I had a sixth sense that Kyle was nearby. I just knew it, felt it in every inch of my body. Was he, though? Or was I just crazy? I wasn't sure which outcome would be worse. I drove my car inside the garage and pulled down the heavy wooden door. There was a cold spot at the center of my chest. I was having difficulty catching a breath. Or thinking in a straight line. Then I went inside Kate McTieman's house. My sense of balance was off. I was listing to the right. The telephone started to ring.
-------------- 299 --------------
JA/VIES PATTERSON
I pulled out my Glock and looked around the kitchen for Kyle. I didn't see anything. Not yet. Where was he? The worst is yet to come. Was I ready for it this time?
300
Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen
I picked up the jangling phone, then hit my knee hard against the kitchen table. 'I've been looking all over for you, Alex.'Kyle was so very calm and cocksure. He had no conscience, no guilt whatsoever. His arrogance was stunning to me, even now. I wished he was here, so I could pound his face. 'Well, I guess you found me. Congratulations. I can't hide from you. You're so impressive. You are the Mastermind, Kyle.' 'You know, I am. You had me concerned, worried there, partner. I wanted to say goodbye in a proper and civil fashion. I'm leaving after this little adventure of ours is ended. It's almost over. Whew. Isn't that a relief?' 'Want to tell me where you are?'I asked him. He paused for a half-second, and I could feel a fast river of adrenaline rushing through me. My legs were unsteady. Suddenly I was afraid of what Kyle might have already done. 'I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you. Let me think about it. Hmmm. There's blood everywhere, Alex. I will tell you that much. It's stunning, a masterpiece of carnage. I've outdone myself this time. Outdone Gary Soneji, Shafer, Casanova. This is my best work. I think it is, and I should know. I'm very objective about these things, but of course you know that.' My heart was pounding and I felt dizzy. I could feel the blood rushing from my brain. I steadied myself against the kitchen counter. 'Where, Kyle? Tell me where you are. Where the hell are you?'
-------------- 301 --------------
JAJWES PATTERSON
'Perhaps I'm at your Aunt Tia's outside Bai'more,' he said. Then he laughed like a madman. 'Chapell Gate. Such a pretty little town.' A moan escaped from my mouth and my knees buckled. I flashed an image of my family - Nana, Jannie, Damon, Alex. I needed to be there with them. How could he have gotten past the FBI teams? And Sampson? He couldn't have. It wasn't possible. 'You're lying, Kyle.' 'Oh, am I now? Why would I lie? Think about it. What would be the point?' The worst is yet to come. I needed to call Tia's. I should never have left them. I heard a terrifying high-pitched scream above me in the kitchen. What in hell? I looked up. Couldn't believe my eyes. Kyle leaped out of the trapdoor to the attic. He was still screaming. He had an ice pick clasped in his right hand, cell phone in the other. I tried to get an arm up to shield myself. I wasn't fast enough. He'd taken me by surprise. I hadn't thought to look up there. He plunged the blade into my chest at an odd angle. A shock of pain traveled through me. I went down hard on the kitchen floor. Had he struck my heart? Was I going to die? Was this the way it ended? With his free hand, Kyle punched me in the face. I felt bone crunch. The left side of my face, my cheek seemed to cave in. Kyle raised his fist to strike again. He was madman-strong, and he wanted to punish me. I was such an important character in his fantasy. He was so sick, so insane. I couldn't believe the things he'd done. A voice inside screamed. Take him out, find a way! A second punch glanced off the side of my forehead. I moved just enough to make him miss. I was in a living nightmare. This was almost surreal. The stainless steel handle of the ice pick was sticking out of my chest. I grabbed the hood and collar of Kyle's windbreaker with one hand, his black hair with the other. I yanked him sideways, got him off me for a moment.
-------------- 302 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
Somehow I managed to get up and pull Kyle with me. We were both grunting, gasping loudly for breath. I felt myself getting weaker. Blood was spreading on my shirt from the wound. Still, I carried him forward, headfirst, right into Kate's well- organized glass kitchen cabinet. It shattered on impact. Splinters of glass and wood flew everywhere. I pulled his head back out of the cabinet, cutting his face on nasty shards of the glass. I wanted to hurt him too. For Betsey Cavalierre, for Zachary and Liz Taylor, for all the others he had murdered along the way. So many dead at the hands of this heartless monster. The Mastermind. Kyle Craig. He screamed/My eyes! My eyes!'I'd hurt him - finally. I crunched a looping roundhouse right into his forehead. I moved in closer. I hit him again and again, then I held him up so I could hit him some more. I wouldn't let him go down. I kept body-punching Kyle Craig, body-punishing him. I don't know where I got the strength. I wanted to keep hitting Kyle, for everything he'd done, the murders, the cruel betrayals, for stalking me all these months, the terrible hurt he'd inflicted on my family, on other families like mine. He was out on his feet, so I finally let him drop to the kitchen floor. I stood over the unconscious body, exhausted, winded, afraid, and in pain. Now what? I felt as if I weren't myself anymore. Who was I? What was I becoming? What had all the brutal murders I'd seen done to me? I stepped away from the crumpled body. The spike of the ice pick was still imbedded in my chest. It had to come out. I knew I couldn't, shouldn't, do it myself. I needed to get to a hospital. Maybe Dr Kate McTieman would take care of me. I made a phone call. A very important call. This was just the beginning, wasn't it? Sure it was. The Mastermind and I were alone at last. We had so much to talk about. I'd been waiting so long for this, and maybe so had he.
303
Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen
It was a hollow feeling to stand over Kyle and realize that I had no idea who he really was. He was an obsessively cruel psychopath; he had been stalking me for years; he had killed so many times, including friends of mine. 'You f*cking bastard,' I whispered through my teeth. The first case we had worked on together was a double kidnapping in Washington. Later, he cleared the way for me to help in the investigation of a kidnapper/killer who called himself Casanova, and who worked in the Research Triangle around the University of North Carolina and Duke. That was when we had first met Kate McTiernan. Kyle kept me close to him after that. He was the one responsible for my getting named as the VICAP liaison between the FBI and the Washington Police Department. I didn't know why at the time. Now I did. He was conscious now. A mocking, falsely sympathetic look crossed his face. His eyes leveled on me as he spoke. 'I know, I know how it hurts. You thought we were close, you thought we were friends.' I didn't say anything, just looked into cold blue eyes edged with gray. What did I see there? Nothing except for his hatred and disdain. He was incapable of feeling guilt, or compassion. Then Kyle smirked, and I wanted to hit him again. He began to laugh. What was the joke? What did he know? What else had he done? He started to clap his hands together. 'Very good, Alex. You're still
---------------- 304 --------------
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
studying me, aren't you? You should bear in mind, I did beat you every time.' 'Except this time,' I reminded him. 'This time you lost.' 'Oh, are you so sure?'he asked.'Are you positive that you have the upper hand, partner? How can you be certain? You can't be.' 'I'm sure. Partner. I do have a few questions, though. Clear some things up for me. You know what I want to hear about.' He continued to smirk. Of course he knew. 'North Carolina. You didn't know I had attended Duke with the Gentleman Caller. I knew both killers. God, did I know them. I killed with them, hunted with them. But you let me off the hook. Detective Cross. Then there were the perfect bank robberies. The Mastermind at work. And, of course, I did kill the lovely Betsey Cavalierre. Great fun. That one's on you, Alex.' I stared into those pitiless eyes. My voice came out in a rasp. 'Why did you have to hurt her?' Kyle shrugged indifferently. "That's how I win the game, by inflicting the most pain imaginable, then watching the torment and suffering. You should see the look in your eyes right now. It's priceless, a thing of beauty. 'Not that I want any pity. Doctor Cross, but did you ever see me with my shirt off? I'll answer that question. You haven't. That's because of the scars and welts there. My father, the great and respected general, the corporate chief executive officer, he beat me for years. He thought I was a very bad boy. And you know what, he was right. Father did know best. His son was a monster. Now what does that say about him?' Kyle smiled again. Or was it a grimace? He shut his eyes. 'Getting back to Agent Cavalierre, she was investigating my whereabouts during all the robberies and kidnappings committed by the Mastermind. Smart little chippie. Pretty, too. And she really liked you, Alex. Thought you were so fine, her sweet brown sugar. I couldn't have that. She was a danger to me and a rival for your attention. 'Are you following this. Cross? Am I going too fast for you? Everything is very logical, no? I put a knife deep inside her.
-------------- 305 --------------
"|9
JA/VIES PATTERS01M
I was going to do the same to your friend Jamilla. Maybe I still will.' I raised my Glock and pointed it into his face. My hand was shaking. 'No, Kyle, you won't!'
306
Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen
Everything had been leading up to this moment - the last few years, all of Kyle's tricks. My hand was still trembling as I moved the gun forward until it touched Kyle's forehead. To be honest, I didn't know what I would do next. /! was hoping it might come to this. One of us in control of the situation. This is where it gets interesting to me,' he said. 'What do you do now?' Kyle pressed his skull into the gun barrel. 'Go ahead, Alex. If you kill me like this, then I win. I like that, actually. Suddenly, you're the murderer.' I let him talk - the Mastermind, the total control freak. 'Let me tell you a harsh truth,'he said.'Can you take a little truth? How much truth can you stand?' 'Go ahead, enlighten me. I think I can take it, Kyle. I want to hear everything.' 'Oh, and you shall. What I do ... it's what all men want to do. I live out their secret fantasies, their nasty little daydreams. I completely control my environment. I don't live by rules created by my so-called peers. I live a full fantasy life. Everything I do is motivated by self-interest. It's what everybody wants, trust me on that. So stop being so self-righteous. It irritates the shit out of me.' I shook my head. 'I have some news for you. It isn't what I want, Kyle. It's a self-centered adolescent's fantasy.' 'Oh, spare me the provincial pop psychology. And yes, it is what you want to do. The chase, the thrill. It's your life, too. Don't you see
-------------- 307 --------------
JAMES PATTERSON
that? Jesus Christ, man. You love the hunt. You love it! You love this!' We studied each other in the small kitchen for several minutes. The hatred between us was so obvious now. Then Kyle began to laugh again - he roared. He was laughing at my expense. 'You still don't get it, do you? You're a fool. You're so inferior. You have nothing, not a shred of solid evidence on me. I'll be out on the street in a few days. I'll be free to do whatever I like. Imagine the possibilities. Anything I can dream up. Isn't that a consoling thought, Alex? Old buddy, old pal. 'I wanted you to know who and what I am. It's no fun unless somebody knows. I wanted this to happen. Desperately. More than anything. I set it up. And once I'm out, you'll know that I'm somewhere ... waiting and watching. You see, I won this time, too. I wanted you to catch me, you a*shole. What do you think of that?' I stared into Kyle's eyes and it was like that game kids play - who's going to look away first? Who's going to blink? Finally, I winked at him. 'Gotcha,' I said. 'What I think,' I continued, 'is that you just made your first big mistake. You didn't think of everything. You missed an important detail. Mastermind. Know what it is? C'mon, you're a smart guy. Figure it out.' I stepped away from Kyle. Now I was the one who smiled, maybe even smirked. I stared into his eyes and let him think about it. I could see he had no idea. 'Watch closely.' I took my cell phone from my pocket. I held it up for Kyle to see. I showed him that it was turned on. 'I called my home phone before we started to talk. The phone has been on speaker. Everything you just told me is on my voice mail. I have your confession, Kyle. Everything, every word.You lose, you sick, pitiful sonofabitch.You lose. Mastermind.' Kyle suddenly sprung up from the floor at me - and then I got to knock him out again. I hit him with the best punch of my life, at least it felt that way. His body lifted up off the floor and he lost a couple of front teeth. That was how he looked in the news photograph after his capture, the great Mastermind, missing two front teeth.
-------------- 308 --------------
Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen
finally got to rest up, to stop being a cop for a while. Kyle Craig was in a maximum security cell at Lorton Prison. The district attorney was confident there was more than enough evidence to convict. Kyle's expensive New York lawyer was screaming that he had committed no crimes, that he'd been framed. Isn't that amazing? The murder trial would be one of the biggest that Washington and the rest of the country had ever seen. The thing was, I didn't want to think about Kyle, or his trial, or some other psychopathic killer anymore. I hadn't been to work in weeks, and it felt good. I felt real good. My ice pick wound was healing pretty well. The scar would be a souvenir. I was spending as much time as I could at home. I'd put on most of a new roof. I'd been to two of Damon's concerts in a row. I was on a roll. I was working on a jump shot with Jannie; reading Goodnight Moon and Fox in Socks to little Alex; taking cooking lessons from the best chef in all of Washington, or so Nana bragged. I was also making some time for myself. I'd even had a couple of nice talks with Christine Johnson. I told her I was sending the cutest pictures of Alex. Jamilla Hughes was coming East for a seminar and would visit next week. Everything was going well with her life. It was around eleven o'clock, and I was playing the piano on the sun porch. The house on Fifth Street was quiet, everybody sleeping except for me. The phone didn't ring, and what a sweet, simple pleasure that was.
No one came to the door with bad news that I didn't want to hear right now, or maybe ever again. No one was watching me from outside, in the shadows, or if they were, at least they weren't being a nuisance about it. I concentrated on getting into some songs by D'Angelo, and I was doing a pretty good job of it.'The Line','Send It On','Devil's Pie'. Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow was a big day, too. I was going to resign from the DC police force in the morning. And something else, something good for a change, I thought that maybe I was falling in love. But that's another story, for another time.
The End