Triple Cross (Alex Cross #30)(61)

“There you are, then,” the billionaire said. “I was angry. Infuriated. Appalled.”

“When did you hear about the killings at Paula Watkins’s home?”

“The morning after, I believe. On the news.”

“And what was your reaction to the murders?”

Alcott thought about that. “To be honest, I was horrified for maybe ten seconds, but then, as the names of the dead and their reputations came out, I felt less so.”

“You didn’t feel deprived of a chance to expose them, to get revenge?”

She curled her upper lip. “I admit that’s been a bitter pill to swallow. But now I ask myself, what good is revenge? Will that bring back Olivia? No. Will it hurt my daughter Anna, Olivia’s mother? Yes. And so, it is enough now. I can see that some kind of cosmic justice has been done. Powers greater than yours or mine were at play. And it is enough.”

Bree said, “You won’t go to the journalists with the evidence I dug up?”

“Again, will that bring back my granddaughter? The media will get its meat when Frances Duchaine goes on trial.”

“She claims she’s innocent.”

Alcott turned colder. “So did Saddam Hussein.”

A phone on the desk rang before Bree could respond.

“Can you hold on a moment?” the billionaire asked. “I rarely get calls on the landlines anymore.” Alcott got up and went to her desk, picked up the receiver, and punched a button. “This is Terri.”

She listened closely and then smiled, said, “Give me a minute, will you, Emma, dear? I’m with someone and I’ll need to pick up in another room.”

Alcott hit the Hold button and hung up. “I am sorry, Chief Stone. This won’t take long, but it can’t wait.”

“Please. Take your time.”

The older woman hurried from the room, closing the office door behind her. Bree got up and walked around, looking at the books and framed pictures on the shelves. Many featured Theresa May Alcott with her husband, Gil, at various places around the world. In others, the couple posed with various famous people: Presidents Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama; LeBron James and Phil Mickelson; Meryl Streep, Denzel Washington, and Robert Redford. Jerry Lewis was featured in at least three of them.

The credenza behind Alcott’s desk was crowded with photographs of large family gatherings, many taken with the Grand Tetons towering behind them. In each, you could see the family growing, evolving, the older generation gradually disappearing and the new gaining ground.

The most recent of those pictures showed the family and Alcott without her husband for the first time. Bree thought the widow looked stoic.

She turned and glanced at the messy desktop. One of the buttons on the multiline phone was still lit.

Caller ID was on as well, slowly streaming across the screen:

Paladin … Paladin … Paladin …





CHAPTER 67




Washington, DC


“PALADIN,” A WOMAN ANSWERED before the phone could ring a second time. “How may I direct your call?”

“Ryan Malcomb, please,” I said. “Tell him Dr. Alex Cross needs a favor.”

“I will, Dr. Cross. How are you?”

I flashed on the woman who worked at the company’s front desk. “Riggs?”

“In the flesh,” Riggs said, sounding pleased. “Hold on, Doc.”

The line fell into a soft buzz. Several moments later, Riggs came back. “Dr. Cross, I’m afraid Mr. Malcomb’s in the middle of a call he can’t break. Can Steve Vance help you?”

“That works,” I said.

There was a click and Vance came on. “Dr. Cross? How are you?”

“Fine,” I said. “How was the Italy trip?”

“Too short. And I’m still a bit jet-lagged.”

“I’m calling about something Ryan found in that first big data dump we gave him.”

“Okay.”

I described how Malcomb and his analysts had determined that cellular and data service had stopped for a brief period in the areas around each of the Family Man’s crime scenes.

“We’ve had another incident and I’d like to see if there was a similar blackout around the Potomac address, which I can e-mail or text you.”

“Text works. And since we’ve already received authorization for the Family Man case from the FBI director’s office, I’m sure we can get right on it. Anything else?”

“Same thing around a Georgetown address. Seems like cell and data services were shut down in that area around the same time as the Potomac address.” I also asked Paladin to see if there were similar black holes around Tull’s rental home at the times of the other Family Man killings.

“Since we’ve already got the data loaded for those cases, this should go quickly,” Vance said. “We’ll get back to you ASAP.”

“I appreciate it, Steve.”

“Anything for law enforcement. And again, sorry I missed you last week.”

“Next time.”

“I look forward to it, sir,” Vance said, and the line went dead.

I pocketed the phone and donned latex gloves, blue booties, and a hairnet before returning to the Kane crime scene. Bodies were being removed in black bags. Dozens of cameras were recording it. Reporters were yelling questions at me, all of which I ignored.