Текст книги "An Evil Mind"

Автор книги: Chris (2) Carter

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‘What day is that?’ Hunter asked.

‘The day that you might become the same as me.’ If Lucien’s voice had sounded cold and emotionless before, this time it sounded like it could’ve come from some ancient devil . . . completely heartless. ‘Because for the past two days, my friend, you’ve been sitting before the man you’ve been seeking for twenty years.’

Hunter felt his stomach curl into a ball.

‘I was the one who took Jessica from you.’

Seventy-Six

Hunter didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink. It was like his whole body went into lockdown.

‘What was that?’ Taylor was the one who asked the question.

Lucien’s gaze was cemented on Hunter, but other than the initial frown of confusion at his statement, he got nothing else from the LAPD detective.

‘You think I’m saying this just to get under your skin, don’t you, Robert?’

Despite the awkward feeling starting to gain momentum deep inside of him, Hunter still looked calm.

‘Which you obviously are,’ Taylor cut in. There was no disguising the irritation in her voice. ‘You ran out of tricks and now you’re just stalling. You know what? I wouldn’t be surprised if there is no Madeleine Reed held captive anywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d just made her up because you ran out of acts for this little performance of yours. I think your chamber is empty. You’re panicking, and now you’re firing blanks because you know the game is really up.’

Lucien faced Taylor, a smirk stretching his lips. ‘Is that really your argument, Agent Taylor? I’m firing blanks because I know the game is up? Is that the best you can come up with?’ He coughed a laugh before his stare turned to ice once more. ‘Wow, I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit a better argument than that.’ Lucien jerked his chin at the CCTV camera just outside his cell. ‘Why don’t you go ask your people who have been listening in on us? Go ask them if Madeleine Reed is real or not. I’m sure they’ve been busy running a few checks.’

‘Even if there is someone named Madeleine Reed from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania,’ Taylor shot back, still keeping her composure, ‘who has been reported as missing sometime after April 9, it doesn’t mean you’ve got her, or that you even know where she is. A list of names can be easily obtained over the Internet from every missing-persons bureau in the country. You are well prepared. You proved that. I’m sure that even someone as arrogant as you must have entertained the possibility that one day you might be caught. It’s reasonable to think that you’d have a few tricks already prepared for that eventuality. But even if you were the one who had kidnapped Madeleine, you can give us no proof that she’s still alive. You could’ve killed her months ago, and you know that there’s no way we can know for sure. So now you just picked her name out of the many that you’ve tortured and murdered, and are using her to give you a last chance outside.’

Taylor took a breath, looked at Hunter, and then back at Lucien.

‘I wasn’t joking when I said that we’ll gun you down if you try anything,’ Taylor continued. ‘If you think this trip will give you a chance at escaping and we’re not going to take decisive action because we think you might have information that’ll lead us to a live victim, you’ve got another think coming.’

‘Now that’s a much better argument than the firing blanks one, Agent Taylor,’ Lucien said, clapping his hands three times. ‘But as you’ve just pointed out, there’s no way you can know for sure. So when you find out that there really is a Madeleine Reed, who was reported missing in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, after April 9, can you really afford to call my bluff?’ He gave her a couple of seconds to think about it before adding, ‘Because if you do and I’m not bluffing, the amount of shit that will rain on you and on the FBI will last a lifetime.’

Hunter was barely listening. Lucien’s words were still bouncing around in his head – ‘because for the past two days, my friend, you’ve been sitting before the man you’ve been seeking for twenty years. I was the one who took Jessica from you.’

Every atom in his body wanted to believe that Lucien was just bluffing, but Hunter had seen something in Lucien’s eyes – a disquieting defiance that he knew usually only came with certainty.

‘I can see your eyes wild, Robert,’ Lucien said, taking his attention away from Taylor. ‘You’re trying to decide if I’m telling the truth or not. Maybe I can help you with that.’ He ran his tongue over his top lip. ‘Yellow-fronted house, number 5067 on the corner of Lemon Grove Avenue and North Oxford, in East Hollywood.’

Hunter felt his throat constrict. That had been Jessica’s address. But if Lucien had read the police reports, that information would’ve been very easy to obtain.

Lucien read his mind.

‘I know, I know,’ he conceded. ‘That proves nothing. An address is easy to acquire. But how about this. Out of the photographs you mentioned Jessica had scattered around the house, the largest of them all was in a silver frame on a small table by the dark brown leather sofa in the living room. The picture was of the two of you at some sort of LAPD dinner party or award ceremony. You were in uniform and proudly displaying an award. She was wearing a purple dress with a matching purse. Her hair was loose, but thrown to one side, over her left shoulder.’

Still with his gaze firmly set on Hunter, Lucien paused, giving his old friend’s brain a chance to try to match his words to the images locked away in Hunter’s memory.

And then he delivered a final blow.

‘But you know the real difference between that and all the other photographs that were vandalized in the house, don’t you, Robert? That was the only one on which the word “PIG” was written vertically, instead of horizontally.’

Seventy-Seven

Hunter felt his heart stall, his blood freeze in his veins, and the pit in his stomach turn into a black hole that threatened to swallow his soul into oblivion. He wanted to speak, but his voice seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat.

His eyes were focused on Lucien, but not his mind. All of his thoughts had traveled back to the night that part of him had died with Jessica. He didn’t need to search long. Every detail of what he’d seen that night had been locked away somewhere in his brain. Accessing those memories was painful, but simple. He could practically see the photograph Lucien was talking about, right in front of him – the smashed glass, the silver frame, and the word ‘PIG’ written in large blood letters – vertically. As Lucien had said, that had been the only photograph on which a word had been written that way.

Trying his best to think logically, Hunter somehow managed to restrain his anger before it boiled out of his body.

If Lucien had somehow managed to get his hands on the crime-scene police reports from Jessica’s murder, then there was also a possibility that he’d managed to obtain copies of the crime-scene evidence report and inventory, which Hunter knew were very detailed.

Hunter breathed out.

Lucien picked up on his doubt.

‘Still not convinced, huh? Isn’t the brain’s defense mechanism intriguing, Robert? To try to avoid the intense psychological pain that it can see coming, it will, sometimes, even subconsciously, try everything to find an alternative answer. It will even disregard facts and try to hang on to things it knows not to be true. But I can’t blame you, Robert. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t want to believe it either. But the reality is – it’s true.’

Taylor could feel on her skin how volatile the air had become down in that basement corridor.

‘You’re bluffing again,’ she tried one more time, her voice angry and a few decibels louder than before. ‘Robert said that there were two perpetrators. Forensics found two sets of fingerprints at the scene. Are you going to tell us that you had a partner this once? And . . .’ she stressed before Lucien could respond, ‘we now have your fingerprints on file. One of the first things the FBI’s computer system does is to check the fingerprint of any apprehended individuals for a match against the records in IAFIS, which are linked to any unsolved crimes. If your fingerprints had matched any of the ones found inside Jessica’s home, or at the crime scene of any other unsolved crime, we would’ve had red alerts screaming at us from all four corners days ago.’

IAFIS is the Integrated Automated Fingerprints Identification System. After collecting a DNA sample, the FBI computer system also does the same check against the National DNA database.

Lucien waited patiently for Taylor to finish.

‘As I have brought to your attention before, Agent Taylor, you can be quite naive sometimes. Do you think that staging a crime scene is hard? Do you think that making a murder look like a by-product of a robbery is difficult? Do you think that acquiring and planting someone else’s fingerprints inside Jessica’s house would’ve posed a problem to someone like me?’ He laughed. ‘I can give you the names of the two men those fingerprints belonged to. Not that you’ll be able to verify it anyway, but I can also give you the location where you’ll find their remains. I wanted it to look like a robbery by gang members. I wanted the police to look for two suspects, instead of one. Why do you think the FBI had no clue I existed, Agent Taylor? Why do you think that after so many murders, your Behavioral Science Unit was never able to link any of them? Why do you think you haven’t been searching for a murderer who’s been killing people for twenty-five years?’

Defeat and anger began to draw lines across Taylor’s face.

‘It’s called deception, Agent Taylor. Making the police believe one thing, while the truth is something very different. It’s an art, and I’m very good at it.’

Lucien reverted his attention back to Hunter.

‘Maybe this will clear all the doubts from your mind once and for all, Robert. You said that all the jewelry Jessica had in the house was taken, but did you tell the detectives exactly what was taken?’

Hunter felt an awkward sensation crawling like a rash across his skin.

‘Of course not,’ Lucien said. ‘I doubt you knew every piece of jewelry she owned. But I can tell you exactly what was taken. She kept everything inside this cute little flowery box on the dresser in her room. Next to another picture of the two of you. A picture that wasn’t touched, wasn’t vandalized. The two of you at the beach.’ He paused, and in Hunter’s face saw the punch hit its target. But he wasn’t done yet. ‘I took the whole box. But from her body, other than the engagement ring you’ve already said was taken, I also took her two single diamond earrings, and her dainty necklace. The pendant on it was a white gold humming bird. Its eye was a tiny ruby.’

No amount of self-discipline would’ve been able to keep Hunter’s anger locked inside this time. He exploded forward and slammed both of his fists against the Plexiglas several times.

Tears welled up in Hunter’s eyes. The deep pain in them was as clear as words on a page. Without even realizing, and through gritted teeth, a single word escaped his lips.

‘Why?’

Seventy-Eight

Hunter’s outburst was so sudden and so violent that it made Taylor jump on the spot. Lucien, on the other hand, barely blinked. He was expecting it.

When Hunter’s fists finally stopped pounding the Plexiglas, the skin on his hands had turned red raw and was already starting to bruise. His whole body was trembling with rage, sadness and confusion. Lucien was simply enjoying the show, but he didn’t fail to hear Hunter’s question.

‘You want to know why?’ Lucien said.

Hunter just glared at him. He couldn’t stop shaking. At that particular moment, he was in a place very far away from his sane starting point.

Lucien gathered himself, lifting up as if what he wanted to say needed an injection of strength into the nape of his neck.

‘The real reason is because I couldn’t help it,’ Lucien explained. ‘I’d really missed you, Robert. I missed the only true friend I ever had. So eight months before the incident with Jessica, I decided to look you up in Los Angeles. I didn’t get in contact with you first because I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to see if you’d recognize me if I suddenly knocked on your door.’

Hunter allowed his hands to drop to the side of his body.

‘I found out where you lived,’ Lucien continued. ‘That wasn’t very hard. So I just hung around your apartment block one evening, waiting for you to come home. I thought that maybe after the huge surprise, or at least what I thought would be a huge surprise for you, we could go and grab a beer somewhere, talk about old times . . . catch up.’ Lucien shrugged. ‘Maybe deep inside I had a masochistic desire to see if you would pick anything up – any psychopathic traits, I mean. Maybe I wanted to check if you could see behind my everyday mask. Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe I was so confident that I just wanted to put myself through a test, to prove to myself that I was that good. And what better test than to spend a few days in the company of the best criminal behavior psychologist I knew. Someone who was also a police officer, and about to become a detective. If you weren’t able to read the signs, Robert, then who would?’

Hunter’s stomach was in turmoil, and he had to concentrate hard not to be sick.

‘But that night you didn’t come home alone,’ Lucien proceeded. ‘I watched you park your car, get out and, like a gentleman, go around to the other side and open the passenger’s door for someone. Out stepped this beautiful woman. And I have to hand it to you, Robert, she was stunning.’

Hunter held his breath to stop his chest from heaving with emotion.

‘I couldn’t really tell you what it was exactly,’ Lucien said. ‘But one thing that my experiences had already taught me, was that despite all the desires, despite all the violent thoughts and impulses one gets, despite the unstoppable drive to take someone’s life, there still needs to be some sort of trigger to finally push one over the edge.’

Immediately, Hunter and Taylor’s thoughts went back to the passage they’d read in Lucien’s notebook, which Kennedy had showed them the day before.

‘With Jessica it was the way she looked at you when you took her hand to help her out of the car, Robert,’ Lucien moved on. ‘The way she kissed you right there in the parking lot. There was so much love between the two of you that I could feel it on my skin all the way from where I was standing.’

Hunter’s fingers closed into a fist once again.

‘I tried, Robert. I tried to resist it. That’s why I never approached you that time. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to take Jessica from you. I left Los Angeles the next morning, and I did all I could to forget about her. If ever I tried to resist an urge, that was it. But what neither of you will ever understand is that once that trigger goes off inside your head, you’re doomed. The obsession drives you crazy. You can delay it, but you can’t contain it. It comes back night, after day, after night, hammering your brain, until you just can’t take it anymore. Until the visions take over your life. And that point came eight months later.’

Hunter took a step back from the Plexiglas.

‘So I planned everything to look like a robbery,’ Lucien said. ‘I killed two men just to get their fingerprints. I knew they would never be found, so no matter how hard and long the police searched for them, the prints would never be matched to anyone. I returned to Los Angeles. I saw the two of you together again, and then I followed her back to her place.’

Even Taylor was now starting to feel numb.

‘There was no torture,’ Lucien added. ‘No sexual gratification. I did it as fast as I could.’

‘No torture?’ Taylor interjected. ‘Robert said that there were stab wounds all over her body.’

‘Post-mortem,’ Lucien replied, his eyes seeking Hunter. ‘If the autopsy team was competent enough, they should’ve found out that her first wound, the one to her throat, was the fatal one. All the others were inflicted post-mortem. That was part of the “robbery-deception” plan.’

That fact had always intrigued Hunter once he’d read the autopsy report. He had put it down to a burst of anger from the perpetrators because Jessica was engaged to a police officer.

‘I staged the scene with the broken picture frames, the vandalized photographs, the disturbed house and the stolen jewelry and money. And that was it. That’s how it happened. That’s why it happened.’

Hunter’s eyes remained unblinking on Lucien’s face as he stepped up against the Plexiglas once again, the fingers on both of his hands still clenched into fists.

‘You were right before, Lucien.’ His voice was so calm, it scared Taylor. ‘Screw being a detective. Screw what I’ve sworn to uphold. You are a dead man.’

He turned and walked out of that corridor and basement.

Seventy-Nine

Ninety seconds later, Hunter and Taylor were standing inside Director Adrian Kennedy’s office. Doctor Lambert was also there.

‘I understand that this whole scenario has changed for you, Robert,’ Kennedy said, as Hunter stood looking out the window. ‘No one could’ve anticipated that sort of revelation, and I am deeply sorry. I’m not going to lie to you and say that I completely understand how you feel, because I don’t. No one does. But I have a pretty good idea.’ Kennedy’s voice sounded fatigued.

He walked over to his desk and picked up a printout that was by his computer monitor before retrieving his reading glasses from his breast pocket.

‘But there’s one thing that hasn’t changed,’ he said before reading from the printout. ‘Madeleine Reed, twenty-three years old, born in Blue Springs City, Missouri, but at the time was living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She was last seen by her housemate on April 9, just before she left her apartment to go out for dinner with someone she’d met a few days earlier in a bar. Madeleine never came back that night, which her housemate found strange, because Maddy – that’s what everyone called her – didn’t make a habit of spending the whole night with anyone on her first date.’

Hunter kept his focus on the world outside Kennedy’s window.

‘Two days later, she still hadn’t turned up,’ Kennedy added. ‘That was when the housemate, someone called Selena Nunez, went down to the police station and reported her as missing. Despite all efforts from the missing-persons’ investigators, they’ve got absolutely nothing. No one knows what this mysterious man who took her out for dinner on the evening of April 9 looks like. The barman at the bar Madeleine was the night before remembers her. He also remembers seeing her talking with someone who looked to be a little older than her, but he didn’t pay enough attention to the man’s face to be able to give the police an accurate description.’ Kennedy adjusted his reading glasses on his nose. ‘Madeleine worked for CancerCare. Her specific job was to provide support and friendship to children with terminal cancer, Robert. She’s a good person.’

Kennedy offered the printout to Hunter.

Hunter didn’t move.

‘Look at her, Robert.’

A few seconds went by before Hunter finally dragged his eyes away from the window and onto the sheet of paper Kennedy had in his hand. Attached to it was a second printout – a 6x4 portrait photograph of Madeleine Reed. She was a very attractive woman, with light and seemingly smooth skin, eyes that had a slightly oriental appearance and were green in color, and hair that dropped in a vibrant black sheen past her shoulders. The smile she had on when the photograph was taken looked pure and innocent. She looked happy.

‘The fact that Lucien might know where Madeleine Reed is being kept hasn’t changed, Robert,’ Kennedy said again. ‘You can’t walk away from this now. You can’t turn your back on her.’

Hunter studied the photograph for a while longer before returning the sheet to the director in silence.

Kennedy took the opportunity to press on. ‘I know you don’t work for me, Robert, so I can’t order you to do anything, but I do know you. I know your moral values. I know what you stand for and what you’ve dedicated your life to. And if you allow your emotions to dictate your actions now, no matter how hurt and angry you feel inside, you won’t be able to live with yourself later. You won’t be able to face yourself in the mirror. You know that full well.’

A headache was pinching and pricking behind Hunter’s eyes.

‘I’ve been searching for Jessica’s killers for twenty years, Adrian.’ Hunter’s voice was low and full of hurt. ‘Not a day has gone by since that I don’t regret not being there for her that night. Not a day has gone by since that I haven’t promised her and myself that I would find them, and when I did, I would make them pay, no matter the consequences to myself.’

‘I understand that,’ Kennedy said.

‘Do you?’ Hunter questioned. ‘Do you, really?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘She was pregnant,’ Hunter said.

The air was knocked out of Kennedy’s lungs. He looked back at Hunter with confusion on his face.

‘Jessica was pregnant,’ Hunter repeated it. ‘We had found out that morning, through one of those off-the-shelf pregnancy tests, but we both knew it was true. That was the reason for her booking the restaurant that night. We were supposed to be celebrating. We were both . . .’ Hunter paused to catch his breath: ‘. . . so happy.’

Taylor felt a paralyzing chill run through her. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what, or how.

‘Lucien didn’t only take the woman that I was supposed to marry from me, Adrian,’ Hunter said. ‘He took away the family I was supposed to have.’

Kennedy looked down at the floor in solemn silence. His way of paying his respects and recognizing Hunter’s pain.

‘I’m sorry, Robert,’ Kennedy finally said. ‘I never knew that.’

‘No one did,’ Hunter replied. ‘Not even her family. We wanted to wait until Jess had seen the doctor so we had official confirmation.’ Hunter’s gaze returned to the window. ‘I asked the coroner to omit it from the autopsy report. That was not the way I wanted her parents to find out, and I saw no point in adding to their pain.’

‘I can only imagine your pain, your anger, and how devastating that must’ve been for you, Robert,’ Kennedy said after a long and dark silence. ‘And I am so sorry.’

‘And nevertheless you still want to put me inside an enclosed space with the person who I’ve been searching for for twenty years and swore revenge on, without the security of the Plexiglas wall between us.’

‘He’s been caught, Robert,’ Kennedy said back, in a measured voice. ‘Lucien is sitting in an underground, escape-proof prison cell five levels below the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit. He is going to pay for everything he’s done. He’s going to pay for what he did to Jessica and to you.’ He pointed to the printout. ‘But this girl may die if you don’t get in that plane with Lucien. I know you don’t want to let that happen.’

‘You can send someone else.’

‘No we can’t, Robert,’ Taylor, who was standing by Kennedy’s desk, said, turning to face him. ‘You heard what Lucien said downstairs. You and me and him. Not a person less, not a person more. We break that deal, and if Madeleine isn’t already dead, she will die – alone – probably until the last second still holding on to some hope that someone will find her. We owe this to her, Robert.’

Hunter said nothing.

‘Courtney is right, Robert,’ Kennedy said. ‘If Madeleine isn’t already dead, we’re losing precious time here. We’ve got to act now. Please don’t let your anger and sorrow take away Madeleine’s chances of being saved. Her only chance of being saved.’

Hunter looked at Madeleine’s photograph attached to the printout once again.

‘She’s not dead,’ he said, not an ounce of doubt in his voice.

‘What?’ Kennedy asked.

‘You said, “If Madeleine isn’t already dead”.’ Hunter shook his head. ‘Madeleine Reed isn’t dead. She’s still alive.’

Eighty

The unwavering conviction in Hunter’s voice was reassuring and confusing in equal measure.

Taylor’s question came not from words, but from a slight shake of the head complemented by narrowing eyes.

‘She’s alive,’ Hunter told them again with a firm nod.

‘How can you be so sure?’ Doctor Lambert asked. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Detective Hunter. I do agree with Director Kennedy. I believe you must act now, but you must also be prepared for the fact that you could already be too late to save this poor girl’s life, or even for the fact that Lucien could be sending you on a wild goose chase. He’s a deceiver by nature, with years of experience. As Agent Taylor said during your last interview, Lucien might be looking at this as his last chance outside, which gives him a better chance at trying something than if he’s sitting in a cell five levels underground.’

‘That could be,’ Hunter replied. ‘But Madeleine is still alive.’

‘So I’ll repeat Doctor Lambert’s question,’ Kennedy took over. ‘How can you be so sure, Robert?’

‘Because Madeleine Reed is Lucien’s trump card,’ Hunter said. ‘He’s been holding on to it from day one. When did you first bring him here to the BSU?’

‘Seven days ago,’ Kennedy answered. ‘You know that.’

‘And yet he hasn’t mentioned her until now,’ Hunter reminded them. ‘As Doctor Lambert said, Lucien’s got a lot of experience. He’s been playing this game for a very long time. Even though he was caught by chance, every move he makes is calculated to the last detail. And an experienced player knows one major rule about trump cards.’

‘Never play them too soon,’ Taylor said. ‘You hold on to them until the best possible moment.’

Hunter nodded. ‘Or until it’s imperative that you do. You’ve all mentioned how impressive Lucien’s internal clock and calculations are, right? He knows exactly how much food and water he’s left Madeleine. He’s already said that she’d learned how to ration everything almost to perfection. He’s calculated the threshold. He’s known it from day one, and I’m sure he’s got a very accurate idea of where the point of no return is. And yet he saw no reason in playing his trump card until now. And that reason is – he wants to make this a race against time, because that puts us under tremendous pressure. A hell of a lot more pressure than just finding victims’ remains.’

Everyone breathed in Hunter’s words for a second.

‘And that’s also why he waited until now to reveal that he was your fiancée’s killer,’ Doctor Lambert said, ‘because that not only puts you under extreme pressure, but it also affects your state of mind. It destabilizes you. It makes you emotional, and therefore more vulnerable, more prone to mistakes. Lucien knew that fully well.’

Goose bumps ran up and down Taylor’s skin.

‘But that also makes Robert more volatile,’ she said. ‘If Lucien weren’t behind that Plexiglas wall, he’d probably be dead now.’ Her gaze moved to Hunter, who returned her stare with 100 percent conviction.

‘And maybe that’s exactly what he wants,’ Doctor Lambert said. ‘Not to try to escape while he’s outside with you both, but suicide by cop.’

Kennedy and Taylor frowned at him, but that was exactly what Hunter had been thinking about while staring out the window.

‘Why would he be looking for suicide by cop?’ Taylor asked.

‘Because whatever happens, Lucien wants to be remembered,’ Hunter said. ‘He wants the notoriety.’ He drew air quotations with his fingers. ‘The “prestige” that comes with being a famous serial killer. He wants his legacy to be studied in criminology and criminal behavior classes. That’s one of the reasons he’s been writing this encyclopedia of his, if that really is what he’s been doing.’

‘I understand that,’ Taylor said, ‘but that will probably happen no matter what. He doesn’t have to be killed to achieve it.’

‘True,’ Hunter agreed, ‘but he also understands that his reputation would get an exponential boost if he doesn’t end his days behind bars, or executed by the state. I’m sure that in his mind that would not be a suitable conclusion to his lifelong project. On the other hand, if he’s shot dead by the FBI while they’re trying to rescue his last victim . . .’ Hunter shrugged and let the significance of what he’d said intoxicate the air.

‘He becomes a legend,’ Doctor Lambert agreed.

‘So, if you think Madeleine Reed is still alive,’ Kennedy said, addressing Hunter, ‘and assuming that Lucien’s got his calculations right, how long would you say we have, Robert?’

Hunter pulled a dubious face. ‘My best guess is that from the time he told us about Madeleine, we would’ve had around twenty hours to find her. After that, I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.’

Kennedy checked his watch. ‘So we’ve got to act fast,’ he said. ‘We can’t waste any more time here, Robert.’

Madeleine’s photograph was still on the desk. It looked like she was staring straight at Hunter.

‘Is the plane ready?’ he said.

‘It will be by the time you get to the runway,’ Kennedy replied, ‘but the two of you need to get ready first.’

‘Be prepared,’ Doctor Lambert said as everyone began moving, ‘because I think you’re right, Detective Hunter. Lucien will try to push both of you to the limit, and he knows that as things stand right now, he won’t even need to push that hard. I think that once he gets out there again, he will do whatever it takes not to end up back here. Even if it costs his life.’

Hunter zipped up his jacket. ‘And I’m fine with that.’ He looked at Taylor. ‘As long as I’m the one who takes the shot.’

Eighty-One

Before heading down to the SUV that was already waiting for them by one of the security exits at the back of the building, Hunter and Taylor were both asked to hand in their shirts so that two state-of-the-art, wireless surveillance microphones could be fitted onto them. The microphones were disguised as regular buttons, but so that a single button didn’t differ from the other ones, every button on both shirts had to be replaced. The one just above their belly button was the microphone. It connected via a small cable to a very powerful but inconspicuous satellite transmitter that resembled a stick of gum, strapped to the small of their backs. The microphone also worked as a GPS locator. Director Adrian Kennedy and his team would know their exact location at all times. But as soon as he got his shirt back, Hunter opposed the idea.