Agent Dwyer and Hampton looked at each other. Call name, or real name? They turned back to Michael.
'I traced him, just like you tracked me. I got through his encryptions. I know his name, and I know where he lives. Even where he works. It's Shafer - Geoffrey Shafer. He works at the British Embassy on Massachusetts Avenue. He's some kind of information analyst there, according to the embassy's web site. He's forty-four years old.'
Michael Ormson looked sheepishly around the room. He finally made eye contact with his parents, who looked relieved. Then he looked back at Hampton. 'Is any of that stuff helpful to you? Did I help?'
'Yes, you did, Laughalot.'
Alex Cross 5 - Pop Goes the Weasel
CHAPTER Fifty-Eight
Geoffrey Shafer had vowed he would not get high on pharmaceuticals tonight. He'd also decided he was going to keep his fantasies under control, under wraps. He understood precisely what the psycho-babbling profilers on the murder cases would be thinking: his fantasy life was escalating and he was approaching a rage state. And the profilers would be exactly right - which was why he was playing it cool for a while.
He was a skillful cook, skilled at a lot of things, actually. He sometimes put together elaborate meals for his family, and even large dinner parties with friends. When he cooked, he liked to have the family with him in the kitchen; he loved an audience, even them.
'Tonight, we'll be eating classic Thai.' he announced to Lucy and the children as they watched him work. He was feeling a little hyper, and reminded himself not to let things get out of hand at home. Maybe he ought to take some Valium before he began to cook. All he'd taken was a little Xanax.
'What sets Thai food apart from other Southeast Asian cuisines are the explicit rules for proportions of ingredients, especially seasonings.' he said as he prepared a centerpiece of carved vegetables.
'Thai is a distinctive cuisine, blending Chinese, Indonesian, Indian, Portuguese, Malaysian. Bet you didn't know that, Tricia and Erica.'
The little girls laughed - confused - so much like their mother.
He put jasmine blossoms in Lucy's hair. Then a blossom each for the twins. He tried the same with Robert but his son pulled away, laughing.
'Nothing too hot tonight, darling.' Lucy said. 'The children.'
'The children, of course, dear. Speaking of hot, the real heat comes from capsaicin, which is stored in the ribs of these chili peppers. Capsaicin is an irritant and burns whatever it touches, even skin, so it's wise to wear gloves. I'm not wearing gloves, of course, because I'm not wise. Also I'm a little crazy.' He laughed. Everyone did. But Lucy looked worried.
Shafer served the dinner himself, without any help, and he announced each dish, both in Thai and English. 'Paa meuk yaang, or roast squid. Delicious. Mieng kum, leaf rolls with “treasurers”, yummy. Plaa yaang kaeng phet, grilled snapper with red curry sauce. Delectable. A little hot, though. Hmmm.'
He watched them tentatively sample each course, and as they tasted the snapper, tears began to run down their faces. Erica began to choke.
'Daddy, it's too hot!' Robert gulped, and complained.
Shafer smiled and nodded blithely. He loved this, the flowing tears, his perfect family in pain. He savored each exquisite moment of their suffering. He'd managed to turn the dinner into a tantalizing game, after all.
At quarter to nine he kissed Lucy and started off on his 'constitutional', as he called his nightly disappearing act. He went out to the Jag and drove a few blocks to Phelps Place, which was a quiet street without many lights.
He took liberal doses of Thorazine and Librium, then injected himself with Toradol. He took another Xanax.
Then he went to his doctor's.
Alex Cross 5 - Pop Goes the Weasel
CHAPTER Fifty-Nine
Shafer didn't like the arrogant, asshole doormen at Boo Cassady's building and they didn't like him, he decided.
Who needed their approval anyway? They were shiftless, lazy incompetents, incapable of doing much more than holding open doors and offering up ingratiating smiles to fat-cat tenants.
'I'm here to see Dr. Cassady,' Shafer announced to the familiar black wanker with Mal jauntily pinned on his lapel. It was probably there so that he wouldn't forget his own name.
'Right,' said Mal.
'Isn't that - right, sir?'
'Right, sir. I'll ring up Dr. Cassady. Wait right here, sir.'
He could hear Boo through the doorman's staticky phone receiver. She had no doubt left explicit instructions
