Violets Are Blue (Alex Cross #7)(69)

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'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.'

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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 --------------

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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.

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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 --------------