Triple Cross (Alex Cross #30)(14)

Don’t ask me to explain exactly how these sifts worked. But the results were sometimes remarkable. Paladin’s search algorithms had laser-focused our investigation into the Alejandro cartel the year before, and the director of Homeland Security had recently stated that the company had helped identify multiple terrorist plots that were thwarted as a result.

There was a pause. “Of course we’d love to help. What are you looking to sift?”

“Any data generated around the murders of three families down here.”

“I heard about that on NPR yesterday. The killer sounds insane.”

“At some level, I agree.”

“You’ll need federal wiretap approval on all cellular, GPS, video, and computer data you provide us. Then the algorithms will do the grunt work, and we’ll let you know what we’ve found when we find it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “And thanks.”

“We’re here to help.”

He hung up. I felt like we were going to get a break and fast. Paladin’s strong suit was its ability to use supercomputers and artificial intelligence to identify similarities and anomalies in given sets of data. They might find, for example, that one cell phone was active near all three crime scenes. Or that there were similar messages going out over computers active in the area. In essence, Paladin’s unique methods identified needles in the haystack of data that surrounds modern life.

I called Ned Mahoney over at Bureau headquarters and asked him to start the request process; he said it would take several hours to get to the attention of the right people at the highest levels of the agency.

“I’ve got something coming your way in the meantime,” Mahoney said. “Footage from the Elliotts’ backyard security camera.”

“Got it,” Sampson said a second after I hung up.

I came around the desk and stood behind him, watching a dark figure climb over the Elliotts’ back fence, land in a crouch, then aim a laser pointer at the camera, blinding it.

“Back up. I want to see that moment when he lands, just before—”

Mahoney was ahead of us because the video ended with a magnified and enhanced still from the video showing us the killer for the first time. He was crouched at the moment of landing and dressed in black hazmat gear head to toe, including a hood, an industrial respirator mask with dual filters, and night-vision goggles.

“No identifying features whatsoever,” Sampson said.

“But it’s him,” I said. “And we were right. He’s using hazmat gear to keep his DNA closely contained.”

“He’s wearing the night-vision goggles, and he uses the laser to blind the camera,” Sampson said. “Wouldn’t it blind him?”

“If he had the goggles turned on, but he doesn’t,” I said. “Otherwise we’d see a smoky green in the lenses.”

John nodded. “He comes over the fence prepared. Goggles off. Laser in hand.”

“And he knows right where that camera is,” I said. “Which means he’s scouted the place before, which means he may be on other cameras in the vicinity earlier.”

“I’ll start looking for any footage in the area for the three days prior.”

The phone on my desk rang. I’m not often in the downtown office, so most people know to call me on my cell.

I went around and answered. “Alex Cross.”

“This is Sergeant Baker at the front desk, Dr. Cross.”

I’d known Baker for ten years. “Hello, Leslie. Missed you this morning. How are you?”

“I just started my shift and I’m fine,” she said, sounding happy that I’d asked. “Say, there’s a lady in the lobby here who’d like to talk to you or Detective Sampson.”

“If you’ve seen the news, you know we’re pretty swamped.”

“I told her that, but she’s insistent, says she thinks she knows who the killer is.”

I closed my eyes a moment and moaned because the more high profile a case was, the more crazies with crackpot theories we had coming at us.

“I know,” Baker said. “But she’s convinced.”

“Are we talking nutcase?”

“No, she’s sharp upstairs. And dressed to kill.”





CHAPTER 14


A FEW MINUTES LATER, the elevator opened, and I agreed with Sergeant Baker’s fashion assessment. The woman before me was slim, tall, and beautiful in tight black leather pants, purple stiletto heels, a black blouse with a diving neckline, and pearls.

My first guess was that she was a model of some sort. Or had been. She smiled and stuck out her hand. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Dr. Cross. I’m Suzanne Liu.”

I shook her hand. “You have information about the family killings, Ms. Liu?”

“Suzanne, please, and I do,” she said, staring at me evenly. “I also have three other big cases you should be looking at. Or the FBI should.”

“Three?” I said. “We’ve run the MO of the killer through databases around the world and have not—”

“These are completely different,” she said. “But I believe that the various killings are ultimately the work of one person.”

I took in her body language, her tone of voice, and her confident posture and decided she did not seem crazy. “Who?”