Page 73 of Alex Cross Must Die

Poe turned back and looked over at the man holding Holmes. “And that makes youNelson.” He leaned forward, smiling through a split lip. “I always thought your Instagram shots were better.”

Richard gave Poe a hard slap on the back of his head.

Holmes felt warm breath in his ear. “Your friend is a wiseass,” said Nelson.

“Just observant,” said Holmes.

“Good,” said Nelson. “Because he’s about to watch you die.”

Holmes felt himself being pushed forward, the gun pressing even harder against his skull. For a second, he met Poe’s eyes. He knew he had to do something. He bent forward at the waist, coughing and spitting.

“I’m going to besick!” he mumbled, drool spilling from his mouth.

“Not on me!” Nelson shoved Holmes roughly toward the chemical toilet. Holmes dropped to his knees and placed his hands on thecorroded metal bowl. It was filled with foul blue liquid. The fumes burned his nostrils.

Nelson was right behind him, pressing his head down. “If you’re gonna puke,puke!” he growled.

Holmes held his breath and slid one hand off the rim and into the blue liquid. He cupped his hand and whipped around, splashing the chemical into Nelson’s face. Nelson twisted away, clawing at his eyes.“Fuuckkk!”His gun dropped and clattered on the floor.

Richard took a short step toward his brother. For a split second, the gun barrel slid off Poe’s temple. Poe spun off the chair, grabbed it by the back, and brought it up hard under Richard’s chin. Richard rocked backward. Poe dived for Nelson’s loose gun and rolled hard to the side. Stunned and off-balance, Richard fired two wild shots. Bullets splintered the flooring next to Poe’s head. Poe whipped his arm around and fired once. The top of Richard’s right ear blew off in a bloody mist. He grabbed his head, dropping Poe’s gun, and spun onto the floor, screaming.

Nelson lunged blindly at Holmes, driving him against the wall, hands around his throat. Holmes whipped his left hand around and stabbed two fingers into the side of Nelson’s neck, compressing the junction of the carotid sinus. Nelson dropped like a sack of cement and hit the floor, unconscious.

Poe staggered to his feet, wincing as he scooped up his gun and pointed it across the room at the wailing, bleeding Richard Siglik. He glanced at Nelson’s inert body, then at Holmes.

“Nice takedown,” he said. “Who taught you that?”

Holmes was bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “I learned it from Margaret,” he wheezed.

One more thing to thank her for.

CHAPTER 81

IN THE MIDDLEof New York Harbor, the early morning air was cool.

Helene Grey rested her arms on the starboard railing of the Staten Island Ferry as it chugged across the water. The Statue of Liberty glowed in the distance. The passenger count was sparse crossing out of Manhattan’s Whitehall Terminal. A bunch of twentysomething clubbers heading home from the city. A few sanitation workers and housekeepers on their way to their jobs.

Grey had spent the last few hours booking the Siglik brothers and taking their statements, which amounted to total confessions. Case closed. Finally. She was bleary-eyed and exhausted. But this was an appointment she did not want to miss. Because she had another mystery to solve. Three of them, in fact.

“Nothing like a little sea air.” A man’s voice.

She hadn’t even heard him approach. She smiled to herself. After all these years, he still had it.

“When the wind is just right,” said Grey, “you can almost taste the landfill.”

The man took a spot to her left at the rail. She glanced at him sideways. Still handsome. The goatee was new.

“When did you leave the company?” she asked.

“Six months ago.”

“Enjoying retirement?”

“Retirement is for pansies.”

Grey turned to face her companion. It had been fifteen years. But the old stirrings were still there. Faint but deep.

“What’s up?” the man asked.

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