The gunman had control of the sixty or more people inside the McDonald's. It was silent in there. Was it Soneji/Murphy? It sure fit. The kids and their mothers. The hostage situation. I remembered all the pictures on his bathroom wall. He wanted to be the picture other lonely boys hung up.
“Soneji!” I called out. “Are you Gary Soneji?”
“Who the hell are you?” a shout came right back from inside. “Who wants to know?”
“I'm Detective Alex Cross. From Washington. I a feeling you know all about the latest hostage-. rescue decision. We won't negotiate with you. So you know what happens from here on.”
“I know all the rules, Detective Cross. It's all public information, isn't it. The rules don't always apply,” Gary Soneji shouted back. “Not to me, they don't. Never have.”
“They do here,” I said firmly. “You can bet your life on it.” “Are you willing to bet all these lives, Detective? I know another rule. Women and children go first! You follow me? Women and children have a special place with me.”
I didn't like the sound of his voice. I didn't like what he was saying.
I needed Soneji to understand that under no circumstances was he getting away. There would be no negotiations. If he started shooting again, we would take him down. I remembered other siege situations like this that I'd been involved in. Soneji was more complicated, smarter. He sounded as if he had nothing to lose.
“I don't want anyone else hurt! I don't want you hurt,” I told him in a clear, strong voice. I was beginning to sweat. I could feel it inside my jacket, all over my body.
“That's very touching. I am moved by what you just said. My heart just skipped a beat. Really,” he said. Our talk had sure become conversational in a hurry “You know what I mean, Gary.” I softened my voice. I spoke as if he were a frightened, anxious patient.
“Certainly I do, Alex.”
“There are a lot of people out here with guns. No one can control them if this escalates. I can't. Even you can't. There could be an accident. That, we don't want. ”
It was silent inside again. The thought pounding in my head was that if Soneji was suicidal, he'd end it here. He'd have his final shoot-out right now, his final blaze of celebrity. We'd never know what had set him off. We would never know what had happened to Maggie Rose Dunne.
“Hello, Detective Cross.”
Suddenly, he was in the doorway, about five feet away from me. He was right there. A gunshot rang from one of the rooftops. Soneji spun and grabbed his shoulder. He'd been hit by one of the snipers.
I leaped forward and grabbed Soneji in both arms. My right shoulder crunched into his chest. Lawrence Taylor never made a surer tackle.
We fell hard to the concrete. I didn't want anyone shooting him dead now. I had to talk to him. We had to find out about Maggie Rose.
As I held. him on the ground, he twisted around and stared into my face. Blood from his shoulder was smeared over both of us.
“Thank you for saving my life,” he said. “Someday, I'll kill you for it, Detective Cross.”
Part Three
The Last Southern Gentleman
Along Came A Spider
CHAPTER 44
Y NAME IS BOBBI," she had been taught to say.
Always her new name. Never the old one.
Never, ever, Maggie Rose.
She was locked inside a dark van, or a covered truck. She wasn't sure which. She had no idea where she was now. How far or how close to her home. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd been taken away from her school.
Her thinking was clearer now. Almost back to normal. Someone had brought her clothes, which had to mean she wasn't going to be hurt right away. Otherwise, why would they bother with the clothes?
The van or truck was filthy dirty. It had no rug or covering on the floor. It smelled like onions. Food must have been kept there. Where did they grow onions? Maggie Rose tried to remember. New Jersey and upstate York. She thought there was also the smell of potatoes. Maybe turnips or sweet potatoes. When she put it all together, when she focused her
225 mind, Maggie Rose thought she was probably beilir, held somewhere down South. What else did she know? What else could she figure out?
She wasn't being drugged anymore, not since the beginning. She didn't think Mr. Soneji had been around for a few days. The scary old lady hadn't been there, either.
They seldom talked to her. When she was spoken to, they called her Bobbi. Why Bobbi?
She was being so good about everything, but sometimes she needed to cry, Like now. She was choking on her own sobs. Not wanting anybody to hear her.
There was only one thing that gave her strength. It was so simple, but it was powerful.
She was alive.
She wanted to stay alive more than anything.
Maggie Rose hadn't noticed that the truck was slowing down. It was bumpy going for a while. Then the vehicle came to a full stop.
She heard someone getting out of the cab up front. Muffled words were spoken. She'd been told not to talk in the truck, or she'd be gagged again.
Someone pushed open the sliding door. Sunlight burst in on her. She couldn't see anything at first.
When she finak could make something out, Maggie Rose couldn't believe her eyes. “Hello,” she said in the softest whisper, allll%JOL “O if she had no voice. ”My name is Robbi."
Along Came A Spider
CHAPTER 45
T TURNED OUT to be another very long day in Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania. We interviewed each person who had been kept hostage inside the McDonald's. The FBI, meanwhile, had taken custody of Soneji/Murphy I stayed over that night. So did Jezzie Flanagan. We were together for a second night in a row. Nothing I wanted more.
As soon as we got inside a room at the Cheshire Inn, in nearby Millvale, Jezzie said, “Will you just hold me for a minute or two, Alex. I probably look a little more stable than I really feel.” I liked holding her, and being held back. I liked the way she smelled. I liked the way she fit into my arms. Everything still felt electric between us.
I was excited by the thought of being with her again. There have been only a couple of people I can open up to. No woman since Maria. I had a feeling Jezzie could be one of those people, and I needed to be connected
22T with someone again. It had taken me a while to figure that one out.
“Isn't this weird?” she whispered. “Two cops in hot pursuit. ” Her body was trembling as I held her. Her hand softly stroked my arm.
I had never been a committed one-night-stand type, and I thought that I probably wouldn't start now. That raised some problems and theoretical questions that I wasn't ready to deal with yet.
Jezzie closed her eyes. “Hold me for one more minute,” she whispered. “You know what's really nice? Being with someone who understands what you've been through. My husband never understood The Job.”
“Me neither. In fact, I understand it less every day,” I joked. But I was partly telling the truth.
I held Jezzie for a lot longer than a couple of minutes. She had a startling, ageless beauty. I liked looking at her.
“This is so strange, Alex. Nice strange, but strange, she said. ”Is this whole thing a dream?"
"Can't be a dream. My middle name is Isaiah. You didn't know that.
Jezzie shook her head. “I knew your middle name was Isaiah. I saw it on a report from the Bureau. Alexander Isaiah Cross. ”
“I see how you got to the top,” I said to her. “What else do you know about me?”
“All in good time,” Jezzie said. She touched a finger to my lips.
The Cheshire was a picturesque country inn about ten miles north of Wilkinsburg. Jezzie had run in to get us a room. So far, no one had seen us together at the inn, which was fine by both of us.
Our room was in a whitewashed carriage house that was detached from the main building. It was filled with authentic-looking antiques, including a hand loom and several quilts.
There was a woodbuming
fireplace, and we started a fire. Jezzie ordered champagne from room service.
“Let's celebrate. Let's do up the town,” she said as she put down the phone receiver. “We deserve something special. We got the bad guy.” The inn, the corner room, everything was just about pe rfect. A bay window looked down over a snowcovered lawn, to a lake slicked with ice. A steep mountain range loomed behind the lake.
We sipped champagne in front of the blazing fire. I'd been worried about the aftereffects of our night in Wilmington, but there were none. We talked easily, and when it got quiet, that was all right, too.
We ordered a late dinner.
The room-service guy was clearly uncomfortable as he set up our dinner trays in front of the fire. He couldn't get the warming oven open; and he nearly dropped an entire tray of food. Guess he'd never seen a living, breathing taboo before.
“It's okay,” Jezzie said to the man. “We're both cops and this is perfectly legal. Trust me on it.” We talked for the next hour and a half. It reminded me of being a kid, having a friend over for the night. We both let our hair down a little, then a lot. There wasn't much self-consciousness between us. She got me talking about Damon and Jannie and wouldn't let me stop.
Supper was roast beef with something masqueradin
9 as Yorkshire pudding. It didn't matter. When Jezzie finished the last bite, she started to laugh. We were both doing that a lot.
“Why did I finish all that food? I don't even like good Yorkshire pudding. God, we're having fun for a change!”
“What do we do now?” I asked her. “in the spirit of fun and celebration.”
"I don't know. What are you up for? I'll bet they have really neat board games back at the main building. I'm one of a hundred living people who knows how to play Parcheesi.
Jezzie craned her neck so she could see out the window. “Or, we could hike down by the lake. Sing 'Winter Wonderland.' ”
“Yeah. We could do some ice-skating. I ice-skate. I'm a wizard on skates. Was that in my FBI report?”
Jezzie grinned and slapped her knees. "That I'd like to see. I'd pay real good money to see you skate.
“Forgot my skates, though.”
“Oh, well. What else? I mean, I like you too much, I respect you too much, to let you think I might be interested in your body.”
“To be absolutely truthful and frank, I'm a little interested in your body,” I said. The two of us kissed, and it still felt pretty good to me. The fire crackled. The champagne was ice-cold. Fire and ice. Yin and yang. All kinds of opposites attracting. Wildfire in the wilds.
We didn't get to sleep until seven the following morn
7 ing. We even walked down to the lake, where we skated on our shoes in the moonlight.
Jezzie leaned in and she kissed me in the middle of the lake. Very serious kiss. Big-girl kiss.
“Oh, Alex,” she whispered against my cheek, “I think this is going to be real trouble.”
Along Came A Spider
CHAPTER 46
ARY SONEJI/MURPHY was remanded to Lorton Fedal Prison in the northern part of Virginia. We @bregan hearing rumors that something had happened to him there, but no one from the Washington Police Department was allowed to see him. Justice and the FBI had him, and they weren't letting go of their prize.
From the moment it was revealed that he was being kept at Lorton, the prison was picketed. The same thing had occurred when Ted Bundy was imprisoned in Florida. Men, women, and schoolchildren assembled outside the prison parking area. They chanted emotional slogans throughout the day and night. They marched and carried lighted candies and placards. Where Is Maggie Rose? Maggie Rose Lives! The Beast of the East Must Die! Give the Beast the Chair or L ife! A week and a half after the capture, I went in to see Soneji/Murphy. I had to call in every chip I had in
Washington, but I got in to see him. Dr. Marion Campbell, the warden at Lorton, met me at a row of gunmetal elevators on the prison's sixth floor, the hospital floor. Campbell was in his sixties. He was well preserved, with a flowing mane of black hair. He looked very Reaganesque. “You're Detective Cross?” He extended his hand and smiled politely.
“Yes. I'm also a forensic psychologist,” I explained.
Dr. Campbell seemed genuinely surprised by that information. Evidently, no one had told him. “Well, you certainly have some pull to get in to talk with him. It's gotten rather complicated. Visiting rights with him are a precious commodity.”
“I've been involved with this since he took the two kids in Washington. I was there when he was caught.”
“Well, I'm not sure if we're talking about the same man now,” Dr. Campbell said. He didn't explain. “Is it Dr. Cross?” he asked.
“Doctor Cross, Detective Cross, Alex. You pick.”
“Please come with me, Doctor. You're going to find this most interesting.”
Because of the gunshot wound Soneji got at McDonald's, he was being kept in a private room in the prison hospital. Dr. Campbell led me down a wide corridor inside the hospital. Prisoners occupied every available room. Lorton's a very popular place, long lines at the door. Most of the men were black. They ranged in age from as young as nineteen to their mid-fifues. They all tried to look defiant and tough, but that is a pose that doesn't work well in a federal prison.
“I'm afraid I've become a little protective of him,” bell said as we walked. “You'll see why in a ment. Everybody wants to, needs to, see him. I've received calls from all over the world. An author from Japan had to see him. A doctor from Frankfurt. Another from London. That sort of thing.”
“I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me about him, Doctor,” I finally said to Campbell. “What is it?”
“I want you to draw your own conclusions, Dr. Cross. He's right here in this section near the main ward. I would very much like your opinion.”
We stopped at a bolted steel door in the hospital corridor. A guard let us through. Beyond the door were a few more hospital rooms, but rooms for maximum security.
A light burned brightly inside the first room. It wasn't Soneji's. He was in a darker room on the left. The regular prison visiting area had been ruled out because it offered too much exposure. Two guards with shotguns sat outside the room.
“Has there been any violence?” I asked.
“No, not at all. I'll leave you two to talk. I don't think you have to be concerned about any violence. You'll see for yourself.”
Gary Soneji/Murphy watched us from his cot. His arm was in a sling. Otherwise, he looked the same as the last time I'd seen him. I stood inside the hospital room. When Dr. Campbell walked away, Soneji studied me. There was no sign of recognition from this man who'd threatened to kill me when we'd last met.
My first professional impression was that he seemed afraid to be left alone with me. His body language was tentative, very different from the man I'd wrestled to the ground at the McDonald's in Wilkinsburg. ant with me?" he
“Who are you? What do you w finally said. His voice quivered slightly. ”I'm Alex Cross. We've met."
He looked confused. The expression on his face was very believable, too. He shook his head and closed his eyes. It was an incredibly baffling and disconcerting moment for me. “I'm sorry, I don't remember you,” he said then. It seemed an apology. "There have been so many people in this nightmare. I forget some of you. Hello, Detective Cross. Please, pull up a chair. As you can see, I've had plenty of visitors.
“You asked for me during the negotiations in Florida. I'm with the Washington police.”
As soon as I said that, he started to smile. He looked off to the side, and shook his head. I wasn't in on the joke yet. I told him I wasn't.
“I've never been to Florida in my life,” he said. “Not once.”
Gary Soneji/Murphy stood up from his cot. He was wearing loose-fitting hospital whites. His arm seemed to be giving him some pain.
He looked lonely, and vulnerable. Something was very wrong here. What in hell was going on? Why hadn't I been
told before I came? Evidently, Dr. Campbell wanted me to draw my own conclusions.
Soneji/Murphy sat down in the other chair. He stared at me with a baleful look.
He didn't look like a killer. He didn't look like a kidnapper. A teacher? A Mr. Chips? A lost little boy? All of those seemed closer to the mark.
“I've never spoken to you in my life,” he said to me. “I've never heard of Alex Cross. I didn't kidnap any children. Do you know Kafka?” he asked.
“Some. What's your point?”
“I feel like Gregor Samsa in Metamorphosis. I'm trapped in a nightmare. None of this makes any sense to me. I didn't kidnap anyone's children. Someone has to believe me. Someone has to. I'm Gary Murphy, and I never harmed anyone in my entire life.”
If I followed him, what he was telling me was that he was a multiple personality... truly Gary Sonejit Murphy.
“But do you believe him, Alex? Jesus Christ, man. That's the sixty-four-dollar question.”
Scorse, Craig, and Reilly from the Bureau, Klepner and Jezzie Flanagan from the Secret Service, and Sampson and I were in a cramped conference room at FBI headquarters downtown. It was old home week for the Hostage Rescue Team.
The question had come from Gerry Scorse. Not surprisingly, he didn't believe Soneji/Murphy. He didn't buy the multiple-personality bit. “What does he really gain from telling a lot of outrageous lies?” I asked everyone to consider. “He says he didn't kidnap the children. He says he didn't shoot anyone at the McDonald's.” I looked from face to face around the conference table. "He claims to be this pleas ant enough nobody from Delaware named Gary Murphy.
“Temp insanity plea.” Reilly offered the obvious. “He goes to some cushy asylum in Maryland or Virginia. Out in seven to ten years, maybe. You can bet he knows that, Alex. Is he clever enough, a good enough actor, to pull it ofr”
“So far, I've spoken to him only once. Less than an hour with him. I'll say this: he's very convincing as Gary Murphy. I think he's legitimately VFC.”
Alex Cross 1 - Along Came A Spider Page 15
