Along Came a Spider (Alex Cross #1)(107)

He knew her name, Nana Mama. He knew Alex had named her that as a boy. In the last few weeks, he’d learned everything there was to know about the Cross family. He had a plan for them now. A neat little fantasy.

Sometimes the boy liked to be afraid like this. Afraid for himself; afraid for the people in the house. He enjoyed this feeling as long as he could control it, and turn it on and off at will.

He finally urged himself to leave his hiding place, to go even closer to the Cross house. To be the fear.

His senses were much sharper when the fear was with him. He could concentrate and maintain focus for very long stretches of time. As he crossed 5th Street, there was nothing in his consciousness other than the house and the people inside.

The boy disappeared into the bushes that ran alongside the front of the house. His heart was beating strongly now. His breathing was fast and shallow.

He took one deep breath, then slowly let it out through his mouth. Slow down, enjoy this, he thought.

He turned so that he faced away from the house. He could actually feel warmth from the walls on his back. He watched the inner-city street through the tangle of branches. It was always darker in Southeast. Streetlights were never replaced.

He was careful. He took his sweet time. He watched the street for ten minutes or more. No one had seen him. No one was spying on him this time.

“One last touch, and then on to other bigger and better things.”

He thought the words, or spoke them under his breath. Sometimes he couldn’t tell which was which anymore. A lot of things were coming together now, becoming one: his thoughts, his words, his actions, his stories to himself.

Each detail had been thought through hundreds of times before this particular night. Once they were all sound asleep, probably between two and three in the morning, he would take the two children, Damon and Janelle.

He would drug them, right there in their bedroom on the second floor. He would let Doctor/Detective Alex Cross sleep through everything.

He had to do that. The famous Dr. Cross needed to suffer a great deal now. Cross had to be part of the new search. That was the way it had to be. It was the only worthy solution. He would be the victor.

Not that Cross would need any extra motivation, but he’d get it, anyway. First, the boy would murder the old woman, Cross’s grandmother. Then he would go to the children’s bedroom.

None of it would ever be solved, of course. The Cross children would never ever be found. No ransom would be asked for. Then, finally, he could go on to other things.

He’d forget about Detective Cross. But Alex Cross would never, ever forget about him. Or about his own missing children.

Gary Soneji/Murphy turned toward the house.





CHAPTER 88


ALEX, THERE’S SOMEONE inside, the house. Alex, someone’s in here with us,” Nana whispered close to my ear.

I was up and out of bed before she finished speaking the words. Years on Washington’s streets had taught me to move quickly.

I heard the softest thump somewhere. Yes, someone was definitely in the house. The noise hadn’t been manufactured by our ancient heating system.

“Nana, you stay here. Don’t come out until I call you,” I whispered to my grandmother. “I’ll yell when it’s okay.”

“I’ll call the police, Alex.”

“No, you stay right here. I am the police. Stay here.”

“The children, Alex.”

“I’ll get them. You stay here. I’ll bring the children. Please obey me this one time. Please obey me.”

There was no one in the darkened hallway upstairs. No one I could see, anyway. My heart raced uncontrollably as I hurried to the children’s room.

I listened for another sound in the house. It was too still now. I thought about the horrible violation: someone’s inside our house. I chased the thought away.

I had to concentrate on him. I knew who it was. I’d kept my guard up for weeks after Sampson and I had returned with Maggie Rose. Finally, I’d let it down just a little. And he’d come.

I hurried to the children’s room. I started to run down the upstairs hallway.

I opened the creaking door. Damon and Janelle were still asleep in their beds. I would wake them quickly, then carry them both back to Nana. I never kept my gun upstairs because of the children. It was downstairs in the den.

I switched on the lamp beside the bed. Nothing! The light didn’t come on.

I remembered the Sanders and Turner murders. Soneji had loved darkness. The darkness had been his calling card, his signature. He had always turned the electricity off. The Thing was here.

Suddenly, I was struck very hard, with terrifying force.

Something had hit me like a speeding runaway truck. I knew it was Soneji. He’d sprung on me! He nearly took me out with one blow.

He was brutally strong. His body, his muscles, had been tensing and untensing for his entire life. He’d been doing isometrics since he’d been locked away in the basement of his father’s house. He’d been wound tight for almost thirty years: plotting to get even with the world, plotting to get the fame he thought he deserved.

I Want to Be Somebody!

He came again. We went down with a loud crash. The air was crushed from my stomach.

The side of my head struck a sharp edge of the children’s bureau. My vision was clouded. My ears rang. I saw bright dancing stars everywhere.