fighting again.
Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Later that night, I went up to my attic office. Everyone was asleep and the house was quiet.
I liked working when it was peaceful like this. I was back on the Army case; I couldn't get it out of my mind. The bodies painted in bright colors. The eerie straw dolls. The even spookier all-seeing eyes. Innocent soldiers punished by wrongful executions.
And who knew how many more soldiers might be scheduled for execution?
There was plenty of material to go through. If even some of these executions were linked, it would be a huge bombshell for the Army. I continued my research, did some spade work on the straw doll and the evil eye. I did a search on Lexus-Nexus, which held information from most local and national newspapers and the major international ones. A lot of detectives underestimate the usefulness of press research, but I don't. I have solved crimes using information passed to the press by police officers.
I read reports about a former PFC in Hawaii. He'd been accused of murdering five men during a sex-slavery- and-torture spree that occurred from 1998 to 2000. He was currently on death row.
I moved on. I felt I had no choice but to keep going on the case.
An Army captain had killed two junior officers in San Diego less than three months ago. He'd been convicted and was awaiting sentencing. His wife was lodging an appeal. He'd been convicted on the basis of DNA evidence.
I made a note to myself: Maybe talk to this one.
My reading was interrupted by the sound of footsteps peppering the stairs up to the attic.
Someone was coming up.
In a hurry.
Adrenalin fired through my system. I reached into a desk drawer and put my hand on a gun.
Suddenly Damon burst into the room. He was soaked with sweat and looked like hell. Nana had told me he was asleep in his room. Obviously that hadn't been the case. He hadn't even been in the house, had he?
“Damon?” I said as I rose. “Where have you been?”
“Come with me, Dad. Please. It's my friend. Ramon's sick! Dad, I think he's dying.”
Alex Cross 8 - Four Blind Mice
Chapter Fifty-Nine
We both ran down to my car and Damon told me what had happened to his friend Ramon on the way. His hands were shaking badly as he spoke.
“He took E, Dad. He's been doing E for a couple of days.”
E was one of the latest drugs of choice around DC, especially among high school and college kids at George Washington and Georgetown.
“Ramon hasn't been going to school?” I asked.
“No. He hasn't been going home either. He's been staying at a crib down by the river. It's in Capitol Heights.”
I knew the river area and I headed there with a red lamp on my car roof and a siren bleating. I had met Ramon Ramirez, and I knew about his parents: they were musicians, and addicts. Ramon played baseball with Damon. He was twelve. I wondered how deeply Damon was involved, but this wasn't the time for questions like that.
I parked, and Damon and I walked into a dilapidated row house down near the Anacostia. The house was three stories and most of the windows were boarded.
“You been in this place before?” I asked Damon.
“Yeah, I was here. I came to help Ramon. I couldn't just leave him, could I?”
“Was Ramon conscious when you left him?” I asked.
“Yeah. But his teeth were clenched together and then he was throwing up. His nose was bleeding.”
“Okay, let's see how he is. Keep up with me.”
We hurried down a dark hallway and turned a corner. I could smell the stench of garbage and also a recent fire.
Then I got a surprise. Two EMS techs and a doctor were in a small room; they were working over a boy. I could see Ramon's black sneakers and rolled-up cargo pants. Nothing moved.
The doctor rose from her kneeling position over Ramon. She was tall and heavy-set, with a pretty face. I hadn't seen her around before. I walked up to her, showed my badge, which didn't seem to impress her much.
