Page 32 of Absent Remorse

“Can I help you find something?” he said.

Simon showed his badge, trying to do it as carefully and non-threateningly as he could. “I’m Agent Phelps, with the FBI. This is my associate, Amber Young.”

Ilya stared at them both for a moment or two, his eyes widening as he took that in. Then he shoved his cart of books at them and ran.

Simon realized his mistake almost instantly. Ilya’s paranoia focused around the idea of the FBI and government watching him, and he had particular issues with anyone beginning with A. So, an FBI agent accompanied by someone whose first name began with A was probably the worst combination there could have been for him.

Or he could just be a murderer, trying to escape when the FBI showed up. Either way, he was already running.

Simon chased after him, trying to follow him through the twists and turns of the library. Ilya was moving fast, and he obviously knew the library well, moving through the maze of its shelves at speed, clearly aware of the direction he was heading in.

Simon ran faster, trying to close in on Ilya, knowing that only raw speed would compensate for the other man’s greater knowledge of the environment he was running through. Even as he did it, though, Ilya grabbed a nearby shelf and pulled, sending a torrent of books showering down onto Simon and briefly knocking him from his feet.

Ilya took the opportunity to keep running, heading around a corner and breaking line of sight. That was bad, because in a place like this, it would be easy for him to play cat and mouse with them until he was finally able to escape.

Simon looked around for Amber, then felt a moment of deep worry as he saw that she wasn’t there. Had she gotten lost in the shelves somewhere? Had he and Ilya left her behind, or …

He had no time to think about that, though, because a loud crash came from somewhere ahead of him, prompting Simon to keep running forward, trying to pick his way through the shelves in the direction of the sound.

He quickly came out into an open space thatshouldn’thave been an open space, but several shelves had fallen against one another, presumably as Ilya had slammed into them. Books lay everywhere, and one or two library-goers looked on in horror at the sight of it all. A couple even had their phones out, taking pictures. Amber knelt astride Ilya at the heart of it all, pinning him down while holding his arms behind his back.

Simon had to admit that he was impressed. Amber had obviously learned a lot in her training if she could subdue a suspect so much larger than herself. Even so, Simon hurried over there as quickly as he could, only too aware of how easily a situation like this might get out of control. He grabbed his handcuffs as he ran over, moving to help Amber hold Ilya down while cuffing him.

“Ilya St Claire, you’re under arrest.”

***

Simon sat opposite Ilya St Claire in an FBI interrogation room, watching the other man look around with obvious fear at the environment he was in. So far, he’d refused every attempt to offer him a lawyer, presumably on the basis that he mistrusted them as much as the FBI.

“We need you to answer some questions for us, Ilya,” Simon said.

Ilya looked over at Amber, sitting next to Simon in the interrogation room.

“Not while she’s here. She … she’s one of them.”

Simon could see the slightly panicked expression in Ilya’s eyes as they lingered on Amber, the mix of fear and hate there with it palpable across the table. Simon thought about insisting that Amber stay but knew that he couldn’t really justify it when she was still technically just a civilian consultant, and when Ilya clearly wouldn’t talk with her there.

“I’ll go,” Amber said, obviously realizing the problem. “I need to check a couple of things anyway.”

Simon nodded his gratitude. It seemed that Amber understood the dynamics of an interrogation like this as well as being able to run down a suspect. He watched her get up and leave. More importantly, Ilya did the same. The other man seemed to relax a little with amber gone.

“You can’t trust her,” Ilya said when Amber was outside the room. “She isn’t who you think.”

“Ilya,” Simon said. “Have you been taking your medication?”

The other man stared at him for several seconds.

“It slows me down. I can’t think. It hides the truth. They give it to me so that I won’t see the truth.”

“That people with names beginning with A are trying to hurt you?” Simon said. There was no way to say it that didn’t sound simply crazy, but he managed to keep from sounding too disbelieving as he said it.

“Womenbeginning with A,” Ilya corrected him. “Like her.”

“Do the names Amy Rose Ferne, Amanda Grieder, and Alicia Greening mean anything to you?” Simon asked.

Ilya shook his head, but it was impossible to tell if he was lying. He might be paranoid, but that didn’t make him stupid.

“What about puzzles?” Simon asked. “Do you like puzzles?”

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