Page 98 of The House of Cross

“Yes, yes,” Malcomb said wearily with a weak flip of his hand before turning to gaze at me. “I’m done talking about Sean. Dr. Cross, do you know what I decided in the early days of Maestro, before I began approaching vetted, angry, and incorruptible law enforcement and intelligence agents to join me?”

“I haven’t the faintest.”

“I decided that Maestro would be democratic—everyone involved would have a vote, and we would act based on evidence, then punish by any means necessary to restore order.”

Bree said, “Is that why you kidnapped Sean? Put him in your handicap van and saw him killed? To restore order? Or for you to disappear?”

M laughed softly, sadly. “Ian Duncanson was becoming highly erratic, and Ryan Malcomb needed to disappear. You, especially, were getting too close, Chief Stone. But more important than disappearing, I will miraculously appear next spring as my brother, bad spine and all, having survived an entire winter alone in the wilderness. I will have a story to tell, and it will all be backed up by evidence on the ground. How I fell hunting and injured my back. How I survived until I could literally drag myself to a remote cabin just as the snow started falling. How I shot a cow elk that fed by the cabin. How I—”

I could tell he was winding up and I wanted to bring him down a notch or two. “Killed your twin brother.”

He was getting increasingly agitated the more we pressed him about his dead brother and seemed to struggle with his words. “As I told you, he was becoming erratic, dangerous. His skills were … the distance between genius and madness is always a hair’s…”

He lost all color. His eyes left us and he gazed at the floor. And his jaw sagged.

Edith came fast to his side. “M? Are you okay?”

I thought for a second there that Malcomb was having a stroke. But then he shook his head slowly. “Late for my meds.”

Bean said, “I’ll take you up straightaway.”

He nodded weakly, then gazed up at us. “You have twelve hours to decide.”

“But how would it work?” Bree said. “Are you asking us to leave our lives behind? Our families?”

I was kind of shocked that my wife was entertaining the offer at all.

Sampson said, “The details. Otherwise, we can’t make a rational decision.”

He gestured at Edith. “She’ll explain.”

CHAPTER 74

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, THEhydraulic door to the cell-like room where Bree had been kept slid shut behind us. There was a bunk above hers but hardly any room to move around.

And I don’t think I’d ever been as frustrated with my wife as I was right then. “You’re honestly thinking of joining Maestro?” I demanded.

“That comes second,” Bree said before throwing herself into my arms. She pulled my head down and murmured in my ear, “I got to believe we’re bugged, baby.”

I sighed, kissed her, and drew back. “I love you too. But Maestro?”

“A lot of Malcomb’s arguments make sense. And it’s not like we’d be foot soldiers. All we would be doing is helping them from time to time.”

That was how Edith sold it after Bean wheeled Malcomb off. She said that Malcomb wanted us to return to our lives as if nothing had happened other than a series of unfortunate circumstances that had separated Bree and Sampson from their vehicle during a snowstorm and ultimately resulted in Officer Fagan’s crash into the canyon. Back in our respective investigative organizations, we would work for Maestro’s aims and have unparalleled access to the power of Paladin’s supercomputers and vast databanks to root out injustice and corruption.

“And you will be paid well enough to ensure you and your families are comfortable for the rest of your lives,” Edith said. “More important, you will see the direct result of your crime-fighting efforts. The bad guys behind bars if there’s enough compelling evidence on the record.”

“And if there’s not enough on the record?” Bree had asked.

“Debate and then a vote,” Edith said. “Majority wins. Appeals are possible. You would have a say and a vote. All of you would.”

In the cell with Bree, I thought about that and said, “Once you help them, you’re caught in their web.”

My wife yawned. “No, you’re part of the web. Sleep on it before you say another thing. I’ll take the top bunk.”

She turned off the light, pushed me gently into the bottom bunk, and climbed in beside me. She snuggled in my arms and whispered in my ear, “We have no choice but to join, Alex. Think about it. If we refuse, he’ll kill us.”

Maybe it was the multiple days with little sleep. Maybe it was the strange, wired feeling that had been pulsing through me since I surrendered and followed Lucas Bean’s snowmobile. Whatever it was, I had not thought the downside through, but it was clear that she was correct. We knew who M was, what Maestro really was, and its secret location. At least I did. Sort of.

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