Page 92 of Alex Cross Must Die

A small speaker set into the partition crackled. Then the woman’s voice came through loud and clear. “Sit still and shut up.”

In tense situations with no immediate solution, Marple found that it helped to occupy herself with a practical mental project. As the two-car motorcade sped along the city streets, she started running through the firm’s possible enemies, starting with the letterA.

CHAPTER 106

FROM HIS FIRSTmoment in the car, Holmes had been trying to cut through his zip tie with the metal seat-belt bracket, but he couldn’t find the right angle. He eased up on his efforts to check the geography passing by his side window.

“We’re taking the Williamsburg Bridge,” he whispered to his partners. He hadn’t expected to be heading back to Manhattan. His prediction would have been someplace remote—the wilds of Jamaica Bay or maybe the Connecticut woods. Wherever they were headed, the kidnappers hadn’t bothered to blindfold them or put hoods over their heads.Not encouraging,thought Holmes. He knew it predicted a one-way trip.

As soon as the cars crossed the bridge, they turned south toward downtown Manhattan. A few minutes later, they were in a neighborhood that Holmes knew well. The cars passed Chinatown, then the Metropolitan Correctional Center. A few maneuvers later, they were heading down a side street behind One Police Plaza. The cars stopped in front of an industrial-sized garage door, wide enough to admit a tank. The door went up. The cars drove through, then stopped.

“The Joint Operations Center,” whispered Poe.

Holmes nodded. “We’ve been kidnapped by cops.”

The door on his side opened. The man in black grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out. Poe got dragged out next, then Marple. Holmes looked around. They were in an underground compound with thick pillars and a concrete floor. Along the far wall, paramilitary police vehicles were lined up like rental cars.

“Move!” The man and woman were behind them now, prodding them forward toward an elevator door behind a concrete barricade. The door opened. Holmes and his partners were herded in. Suddenly, he felt the zip tie being snipped. He turned around.

The elevator door was closing. Poe and Marple were both rubbing their wrists.

They were alone in the elevator car.

Free. But clearlynotfree.

The elevator door opened. They stepped out into a huge bare room. Holmes’s olfactory membranes registered the scents of new construction—drywall mud, fresh paint, carpet, concrete. They were on an office floor without windows. Or offices.

Holmes heard a door shut behind them. Then a man’s voice.

“Tell me, assholes,” he said. “How does it feel to be ambushed outside your home in broad daylight?”

CHAPTER 107

MARPLE TURNED. POLICECommissioner Boolin had entered the room from a stairwell near the elevator. Three young men in business suits flanked him, along with Helene Grey, grim faced. She looked as if this were the last place on earth she wanted to be. The door opened again. Boolin waved in the new arrival.

“I think you three know Mayor Rollins.”

The mayor stepped up beside Boolin and looked from Poe to Holmes to Marple.

“We met once before,” Rollins said bluntly. “I’m hoping this will be the last time.”

Holmes glanced around the bare space. “Interesting look,” he said. “Did somebody cut the furniture budget?” He stared directly at the mayor. “Or maybe the funds were … diverted?”

“Holmes,” Grey said softly. “Stop talking.” She looked deadly serious.

“Know what’s nice about raw space?” said Boolin. “No cameras.”

Marple felt a chill. She pushed through it. “Are you threatening us, Commissioner?”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort.” He pointed at the men behind him. “And these fine attorneys will back me up. What I want to know …” He glanced over at Rollins. “Whatwewant to know … is where you got the documents concerning Huntley Bain’s finances.”

“Well, as I’m sure you can imagine,” said Marple, “our methods are proprietary.”

“Bullshit!” said Boolin.

Marple took a step forward. “As private investigators,” she said, “we are prohibited from impersonating law enforcement officers or company employees as a ruse to obtain financial records. We did neither of those things. As you know, surveillance is permitted under our license, as is the examination of discarded trash.”

“You didn’t get this shit by dumpster diving,” said Rollins. “We want to know how you did it. You have no right to withhold that information.”

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