Page 54 of Alex Cross Must Die

Holmes exchanged looks with his partners.

“I’ve got eyes too,” said the commissioner. “I’ve got eyes in theback of my ass.” He turned to the monitor screen. “What the hell is that?” he asked. “What are those markers?”

“Chinese restaurants,” said Holmes. “We were just planning to order takeout.” He could see Grey glaring at Poe.

Poe hesitated for a second. Then he tapped his phone and enlarged the view of Brooklyn. “Patterns of unsolved disappearances cross-matched with subway victim evidence.”

“This is NCIC stuff,” said Boolin. “How did you get this?”

“It’s my own software,” said Poe. “Independently developed.”

“Bullshit!” said Boolin. “These are restricted files.” He turned to look Grey in the eye. “You were right, Detective. They have a very nice space here.”

“Yes, sir,” said Grey.

“Good. Because until this subway perp is caught, I think your team should use it as an annex. Get yourself set up and pool your resources with these three … experts. From now on, whatever they know,weknow.”

“Hold on!” said Holmes. “This is a private business office. You can’t just …”

Boolin pointed at the screen. “Or I could just go ahead, charge you with theft of proprietary government files.”

Holmes could see Virginia watching the whole spectacle from her desk, her head swiveling back and forth to follow the action. She caught his eye and passed him a folded note. He opened it.

Should I order cots?it said.

CHAPTER 56

BY THE NEXTnight, Poe was about to go completely out of his mind.

“Assholes!I can’t function in this atmosphere! I can’twork! I can’tthink!”

He was looking over the balcony rail outside his apartment to the office space below. The firm’s once-neat headquarters was now crowded with folding tables and whiteboards. Soda cans and half eaten deli sandwiches littered the tabletops. The air reeked of stale onions and kosher pickles and overused restrooms. Even for his normal human nostrils, it was a lot. He imagined that Holmes must be nauseated.

Most of the task force, including Grey, were out following up on leads. A couple of uniforms leaned against the kitchen island, drinking coffee. A detective in wrinkled khakis slouched and snored on one of the reception chairs. Poe could see Virginia at her desk, answering calls to the tip line.

He turned and walked back through the open door into his livingroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Holmes and Marple sat in armchairs near an open window. Holmes sipped from a goblet of wine. He looked morose. Marple stirred a cup of tea. Annabel was curled up under her chair, hiding out from the task force. The investigators had been holed up together for nearly thirty-six hours, like prisoners in their own castle.

“Can they really commandeer our space like this?” Poe asked. “We should take them to court!”

“Exactly!”said Holmes. “Illegal confiscation. Malicious loitering. Something like that.”

Marple took a slow sip from her cup. “There’s only one way to get rid of them,” she said softly. “Solve the case.”

Her phone dinged with a text message. As she put down her tea and looked at the screen, her mood instantly brightened. “Look!” she said. “It’s on!”

“The exhibit?” asked Holmes. He moved over to look at Marple’s screen. Poe slipped in on the other side. Marple clicked to an elegant electronic invitation from a small gallery in Williamsburg—the very artsy neighborhood nearby.

“Looks like they put together an interesting show,” she said. “Some minor pieces … and …” Marple scrolled to an image of the exhibit’s big draw. She whistled softly. “And averynice Picasso.”

Holmes grinned. “I told you my friend Essen Blythe would come through.”

“How do we know Franke will be interested?” asked Poe.

“Because he’s already cased the gallery four times,” said Marple. “He’s jealous about the Shakespeare and Gutenberg. Also, I insulted his manhood.”

“He needs to score,” said Holmes.

Marple nodded. “So. Are we ready to take the great Luka Franke down?”

---