Chapter 65
The Mastermind watched Alex Cross get out of the car. He had him in his sights.
Cross and the lovely Inspector Jamilla Hughes had returned from a dinner break and were back on surveillance duty. Were they getting closer? Would Alex and Jamilla become lovers in New Orleans? That was an obvious flaw in Cross's character; he needed to be loved, didn't he?
But now Cross was out of the car again.
This was amazing; this was no good.
He followed Cross down a dark side street filled with modest homes of two styles — the double shotgun and the Creole cottage; both were staples in this part of New Orleans.
The fragrance of honeysuckle, jasmine, and gardenias was heavy in the air. He sucked in a breath. Pleasant. A hundred years before, the scents had masked the odors of the nearby slaughterhouses. The Mastermind knew his history, knew lots about most things, and the facts flowed easily through his mind as he continued to follow Cross at a safe distance. He retained information and knew how to use it.
He could hear the rattle and hum of the St. Charles Avenue streetcar as it raced along its tracks a few blocks away. It helped to cover any slight sound of his own footsteps.
He was enjoying this walk with Cross immensely, and he thought that maybe this would be
He continued to move closer to Cross. Yes, this was it. Right here, right now.
He partly expected Cross to spin around and look at him. That would be good, so rich, ironic, fitting. Proof of Cross's instincts, and that he was a worthy adversary.
He ducked into some lurks and he circled. He was only a few yards away from Cross now. He could close the distance in an instant.
Cross came to a stop at the old Lafayette Cemetery, the so-called City of the Dead. Inside the gates were lavish above-ground vaults, multi-burial graves.
The Mastermind stopped as well. He savored this, second by second.
A New Orleans Police Department sign was posted on the gates: PATROLLED.
The Mastermind doubted that was true, though. And it didn't really matter, did it? He could eat the NOPD for lunch.
Cross looked around, but he didn't see the Mastermind in the shadows. Should he jump him now? Would they fight hand to hand? It didn't matter — he knew he would win. He watched Alex Cross breathe. His last breaths on earth? What a thought.
Cross turned away from the cemetery and started down another side street. He was heading back to the surveillance car, to Inspector Hughes.
The Mastermind started forward, but then he turned away. This wasn't the night that Cross would die. He had taken mercy, spared him.
The reason: It was too dark on this street. He wouldn't be able to see Cross's eyes when he died.
Chapter 66
Something surprising happened the next morning; it was an event I don't think any of us was expecting. I wasn't, and it threw me for a complete loop. We had gathered at the FBI's New Orleans office for the morning briefing. There were about thirty of us in a large and sterile room that looked out on the muddy brown Mississippi River.
At nine o'clock, Kyle addressed the surveillance team that had been on the watch during the previous twenty-four hours. He finished with them and went on to the day's assignments. He handed them out and was very specific. It was a typical Craig performance: clear, to the point, efficient, never a mistake or the hint of one.
When he was finished, or thought that he was, a hand shot into the air. 'Excuse me, Mr. Craig, you didn't mention me. What am I supposed to do today?'
It was Jamilla Hughes and she didn't sound happy. Kyle was already collecting his notes, shuffling a few papers into his thick black briefcase. He barely glanced up as he said, 'That's up to Dr. Cross, Inspector Hughes. Please see him.'
The remark and its delivery were unnecessarily curt, even for Kyle. I was taken aback by his rudeness, or at least the lack of any tact.
'This is complete bullshit!' Jamilla rose from her seat. 'It's unacceptable, Mr. Craig. Especially that irritating tone of yours.'
The FBI agents in the room looked at her. Usually, no one dared confront Kyle on anything. After all, he was rumored to be in line for the director's job someday. Moreover, many of them felt he deserved it. He was certainly smarter than anybody else in the Bureau. He also worked harder than anyone I knew.
'Look, this is no reflection on Detective Cross,' Jamilla went on, 'but my work in California helped open this case up. I don't want anybody's pat on the back, no condescending applause, thank you, but I came all the way here and I can contribute. So use me, and respect me. By the way, I couldn't help noticing there's only one other woman on this entire task force. Don't bother to make excuses,' she said, and waved off anything Kyle might have been ready to say in his defense.
Kyle kept his cool. 'Like the supposed vampires, Inspector Hughes, gender doesn't matter to me. I do applaud your efforts during the early stages of this case. But as I said, you can see Dr. Cross about your assignment. Or, you can go back home right now, if you like. Thank you, everyone,' he said as he saluted the team. 'Happy hunting. Hopefully, today will be our day.'
I was surprised, mostly by Kyle's response, but also by Jamilla's quick anger. I was uneasy when she came up to me after the meeting.
'He got me so mad. Grrrr,' she said, and shook her head and made a face. 'I have a bad temper sometimes, but he was wrong. There's something fucked up about that man. I have a bad feeling about him. Why would he have it in for me? Because I'm working with you? So what do we do today, Dr. Cross? I'm not leaving because he's a goddamn idiot.'
'He was wrong. I'm sorry about what happened, Jamilla. Let's talk about what we do next.'
'Don't be condescending,' she said.
'I'm not. Why don't you get off the soapbox, though.'
She still wasn't over her bad scene with Kyle. 'He doesn't like women,' she said. 'Trust me on that. He also practices the three C's that some men are so fond of: compete, criticize, control.'
'So tell me what you
Jamilla finally managed a smile. 'I think, and I'm being pretty objective and measured about this, that he's a total control freak and a complete asshole. Your so-called friend. As for men, it varies with the individual.'
Chapter 67
The real vampires had arrived and they believed they were invincible. William and Michael knew that the exotic city of New Orleans belonged to them from the instant they crossed the bridge. They were a couple of young
