Sampson and I knew that vigorous legal efforts were still proceeding to try to stop the execution, but there didn't seem much reason to talk about it. Not unless Cooper chose to bring it up, and he didn't. He seemed strangely at peace to me, the most relaxed I'd seen him.
His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short and his prison coveralls were neat and looked freshly pressed.
He smiled again. “Like a nice hotel in here, I know. Luxury hotel. Four stars, five diamonds, whatever signifies the finest. These two gentlemen take good care of me. Best I could expect under the circumstances. They think I'm guilty of the three murders, but they're pleasant all the same.”
Then Cooper leaned into the steel bars and got as close as he could to Sampson. This is important for me to say, John. I know you did your best, and I hope you know that too. But like I said, the deck against me was stacked so goddamn high. I don't know who wanted me to die, but somebody sure did.'
He looked directly at Sampson. “John, I have no reason in the world to lie to you. Not now, not here on death watch. I didn't murder those women.”
Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice
Chapter Thirty-One
Twenty-four hours earlier, Sampson and I had signed an agreement to be searched before we entered the execution room. Now, at one o'clock in the morning, sixteen men and three women were led into the small viewing room inside the prison. One of the men was General Stephen Bowen from Bragg. He'd kept his promise to be there. The US Army's only representative.
At twenty minutes past one in the morning, the black drapes to the execution chamber were opened for the witnesses. I didn't want to be there; I didn't need to see another execution to know how I felt about them. On the order of the prison warden, the lethal injection executioner approached Cooper. I heard Sampson take in a breath beside me. I couldn't imagine what it would be like for him to watch his friend die like this.
The movement of the technician seemed to startle Ellis Cooper. He turned his head and looked into the viewing room for the first time. The warden asked him if he'd like to make a statement.
Cooper's eyes found us and he held contact. It was incredibly powerful, as if he were about to lose us as he fell into the deepest chasm.
Then Ellis Cooper spoke. His voice was reedy at first, but it got stronger.
“I did not murder Tanya Jackson, Barbara Green or Maureen Bruno. I would say so if I did, take this final injection like the man I was trained to be. I didn't kill the three women outside Fort Bragg. Someone else did. God bless you all. Thank you, John and Alex. I forgive the United States Army, which has been a good father to me.”
Ellis Cooper held his head up. Proudly. Like a soldier on parade.
The executioner stepped forward. He injected a dose of Pavulon, a total muscle relaxer which would stop Cooper's breathing.
Very soon Ellis Cooper's heart, lungs and brain stopped functioning.
Sergeant Cooper was pronounced dead by the warden of Central Prison at
1:31 A.M.
Sampson turned to me when it was over. “We just watched a murder,” he said. “Someone murdered Ellis Cooper, and they got away with it.”
Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice
PART TWO
JAM ILLA
Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice
Chapter Thirty-Two
I was early to meet the flight coming into Gate 74 at Reagan International, and once I was at the airport I didn't know what to do with myself. I was definitely nervous, good nervous, with anticipation. Jamilla Hughes was coming to visit.
The airport was crowded at around four on a Friday afternoon. Lots of weary, edgy business-people sitting around ending their workweeks on the computer, or already off the clock at the bar, or reading magazines and popular novels that ranged from Jonathan Frantzen to Nora Roberts to Stephen King. I sat down, then popped up again. Finally I walked close to the large, expansive windows and watched a big American jet slowly taxi to the gate. Well, here we go. Am I ready? Is she?
Jamilla was in the second wave of passengers getting off the plane. She had on jeans, a mauve top, and a black leather car jacket that I remembered from our stakeouts together in New Orleans. The two of us had become fast friends on a bizarre homicide case that had started in her hometown of San Francisco, weaved its way through the South, including the Big Easy, then ended up on the West Coast again.
We had been talking about seeing each other ever since, and now we were actually doing it. It was pretty
