[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
staying on that floor, or the floors immediately above and below.
"Who is it?" The President looked up from the book he was reading to try and
calm his nerves. The book was the massive Truman by David McCullough. The
President nearly dropped the heavy tome when the door opened unexpectedly
Thomas Byrnes smiled when he saw who was standing between the doorway and a
large antique armoire.
"Oh, it's you. I thought it might be Jill. I think she secretly likes me. Just
a gut feeling I have," he said and chuckled.
Sally Byrnes forced a smile. "Only me. I wanted to say goodnight. And to see
if you were all right, Tom."
The President looked fondly at his wife. They had been sleeping in separate
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bedrooms for the past few years. They'd had problems.
But they were still close friends. He believed they still loved each other,
and always would.
"You didn't come to tuck me in?" he asked. "That's a shame."
"Of course I did. That, too. Tonight, you deserve a tuck-in."
Her husband smiled in a way that reminded both of them of better times, much
better times. He could be a charmer when he wanted to be. Sally Byrnes knew
that all too well. Tom could also be a major heartbreaker. Sally knew that,
too. It had been that way for most of their years together. The agony and the
ecstasy, she called the relationship. In truth, though, to be fair, it had
been more ecstasy than agony They both believed that, and knew what they had
was rare.
Thomas Byrnes lightly patted the edge of the bed, which was king-size with a
partial canopy Sally came and sat beside him. He reached for her hand, and she
gave it to him willingly She loved to hold hands with her Tom. She always had.
She knew she still loved him in spite of past hurts and all their other
troubles. She could forgive him for his affairs. She knew they meant nothing
to him. She was secure in herself. Sally Byrnes also understood her husband
better than anybody else. She knew how disturbed he was right now, how deeply
frightened, and how vulnerable.
And she did love him, the whole complex package -- the arrogance, the
diffidence, the insecurities, the very large ego at times.
She knew that he loved her and that they would always be best friends and soul
mates.
"Tell you something weird," he said as he pulled her closer, as he tenderly
held his wife of twenty-six years.
"Tell me. I expect nothing less than full disclosure, Mr. King."
It was a phrase they had both laughed over in the London stage play The
Madness of George IlL The queen had called George III "Mr. King" in bed.
"I think it's somebody we know. I had a talk about it with that homicide
detective. He's the only one who had the balls to come to me with bad news. I
think it could be somebody close to us, Sally That makes it all the more
horrible."
Sally Byrnes tried not to show her fear. Her eyes traveled up and around the
high-ceilinged bedroom. There was a chair rail halfway up the walls.
Baby-blue-and-cream wallpaper rose above the rail. God, how she wished they
could go home to Michigan.
That's what she really wanted more than anything, for her and Tom to go back
home.
"Have you told that to Don Hamerman?"
"I'm telling you," he whispered. "You, I can trust. You, I do trust."
Sally kissed his forehead softly, then his cheek, and finally his lips. "You
sure about that?"
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Hundred percent," he whispered. "Although you have some good reasons to want
to get me. Better reasons than most. Better than Jack and Jill, I'll bet."
"Hold me tight," she said. "Don't ever let go."
"Hold me tight," the President continued to whisper to his wife. "Don't you
ever let go. I could stay like this with you forever.
And please, Sally, forgive me."
It's somebody close. It's somebody very close to me. President Thomas Byrnes
couldn't turn off the disturbing thought as he held his wife. Somebody close.
"What would you like for Christmas, Tom? You know the press -- they always
want to know."
President Byrnes thought for a moment.
"Peace. For this to be over."
IT WAS TIME to prove he was better than Jack and Jill. In his heart, he knew
that he was. No contest. Jack and Jill were basically full of crap.
The Cross house stood in dark, shifting shadows on Fifth Street in
Washington's Southeast. It looked as if everyone inside had finally fallen
asleep. We'll soon see. We'll just see about that, the killer thought to
himself.
His name was Danny Boudreaux, if you really wanted to know the truth. He
watched the streetlamp-lit scene from a clump of gum trees sprouting in an
otherwise empty lot.
He was thinking about how much he hated Cross and his family. Alex Cross
reminded him of his real father, who'd also been a cop devoted to his stupid
job and who had left him and his mother because of it. Deserted them as if
they were so much spit on the sidewalk. Then his mother had killed herself and
he'd wound up with foster parents.
Families made him sick, but bigshot Cross tried to be such a perfect daddy He
was such a phony, a real scam artist. Worse than that, Cross had severely
underestimated him and also "dissed" him several times.
Danny Boudreaux had been a classmate of Sumner Moore at Theodore Roosevelt.
Sumner Moore had always been the perfect suck-up cadet, the perfect student,
the perfect student-athlete asshole. Moore had been his goddamn tutor since
the previous summer. Danny Boudreaux had to go to the Moore house twice a
week. He'd hated Sumner Moore from day one for being such a condescending and
stuck-up little prick. He'd hated the whole condescending Moore family Well,
he'd taught them a lesson.
He'd turned out to be the tutor.
His first totally outrageous idea had been to make it look as if Sumner Moore,
the perfect cadet, were the child killer. He'd logged into the Moore's Prodigy
account and led the cops right to their house. What a great frigging prank
that had been -- the best. Then he'd decided to get rid of Sumner. That was
the second outrageous idea. He'd enjoyed killing Sumner Moore even more than
the little kids.
''He wanted to teach Cross a lesson now, too. Cross obviously didn't think the
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
so-called Sojourner Truth School killer was worth much of his precious time.
Danny Boudreaux was no Gary Soneji in the eyes of Alex Cross. He was no Jack
and Jill. He was Nobody, right?
Well, we'll see about that, Dr. Cross. We'll just see how I stack up against [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl akte20.pev.pl
staying on that floor, or the floors immediately above and below.
"Who is it?" The President looked up from the book he was reading to try and
calm his nerves. The book was the massive Truman by David McCullough. The
President nearly dropped the heavy tome when the door opened unexpectedly
Thomas Byrnes smiled when he saw who was standing between the doorway and a
large antique armoire.
"Oh, it's you. I thought it might be Jill. I think she secretly likes me. Just
a gut feeling I have," he said and chuckled.
Sally Byrnes forced a smile. "Only me. I wanted to say goodnight. And to see
if you were all right, Tom."
The President looked fondly at his wife. They had been sleeping in separate
Page 175
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
bedrooms for the past few years. They'd had problems.
But they were still close friends. He believed they still loved each other,
and always would.
"You didn't come to tuck me in?" he asked. "That's a shame."
"Of course I did. That, too. Tonight, you deserve a tuck-in."
Her husband smiled in a way that reminded both of them of better times, much
better times. He could be a charmer when he wanted to be. Sally Byrnes knew
that all too well. Tom could also be a major heartbreaker. Sally knew that,
too. It had been that way for most of their years together. The agony and the
ecstasy, she called the relationship. In truth, though, to be fair, it had
been more ecstasy than agony They both believed that, and knew what they had
was rare.
Thomas Byrnes lightly patted the edge of the bed, which was king-size with a
partial canopy Sally came and sat beside him. He reached for her hand, and she
gave it to him willingly She loved to hold hands with her Tom. She always had.
She knew she still loved him in spite of past hurts and all their other
troubles. She could forgive him for his affairs. She knew they meant nothing
to him. She was secure in herself. Sally Byrnes also understood her husband
better than anybody else. She knew how disturbed he was right now, how deeply
frightened, and how vulnerable.
And she did love him, the whole complex package -- the arrogance, the
diffidence, the insecurities, the very large ego at times.
She knew that he loved her and that they would always be best friends and soul
mates.
"Tell you something weird," he said as he pulled her closer, as he tenderly
held his wife of twenty-six years.
"Tell me. I expect nothing less than full disclosure, Mr. King."
It was a phrase they had both laughed over in the London stage play The
Madness of George IlL The queen had called George III "Mr. King" in bed.
"I think it's somebody we know. I had a talk about it with that homicide
detective. He's the only one who had the balls to come to me with bad news. I
think it could be somebody close to us, Sally That makes it all the more
horrible."
Sally Byrnes tried not to show her fear. Her eyes traveled up and around the
high-ceilinged bedroom. There was a chair rail halfway up the walls.
Baby-blue-and-cream wallpaper rose above the rail. God, how she wished they
could go home to Michigan.
That's what she really wanted more than anything, for her and Tom to go back
home.
"Have you told that to Don Hamerman?"
"I'm telling you," he whispered. "You, I can trust. You, I do trust."
Sally kissed his forehead softly, then his cheek, and finally his lips. "You
sure about that?"
Page 176
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Hundred percent," he whispered. "Although you have some good reasons to want
to get me. Better reasons than most. Better than Jack and Jill, I'll bet."
"Hold me tight," she said. "Don't ever let go."
"Hold me tight," the President continued to whisper to his wife. "Don't you
ever let go. I could stay like this with you forever.
And please, Sally, forgive me."
It's somebody close. It's somebody very close to me. President Thomas Byrnes
couldn't turn off the disturbing thought as he held his wife. Somebody close.
"What would you like for Christmas, Tom? You know the press -- they always
want to know."
President Byrnes thought for a moment.
"Peace. For this to be over."
IT WAS TIME to prove he was better than Jack and Jill. In his heart, he knew
that he was. No contest. Jack and Jill were basically full of crap.
The Cross house stood in dark, shifting shadows on Fifth Street in
Washington's Southeast. It looked as if everyone inside had finally fallen
asleep. We'll soon see. We'll just see about that, the killer thought to
himself.
His name was Danny Boudreaux, if you really wanted to know the truth. He
watched the streetlamp-lit scene from a clump of gum trees sprouting in an
otherwise empty lot.
He was thinking about how much he hated Cross and his family. Alex Cross
reminded him of his real father, who'd also been a cop devoted to his stupid
job and who had left him and his mother because of it. Deserted them as if
they were so much spit on the sidewalk. Then his mother had killed herself and
he'd wound up with foster parents.
Families made him sick, but bigshot Cross tried to be such a perfect daddy He
was such a phony, a real scam artist. Worse than that, Cross had severely
underestimated him and also "dissed" him several times.
Danny Boudreaux had been a classmate of Sumner Moore at Theodore Roosevelt.
Sumner Moore had always been the perfect suck-up cadet, the perfect student,
the perfect student-athlete asshole. Moore had been his goddamn tutor since
the previous summer. Danny Boudreaux had to go to the Moore house twice a
week. He'd hated Sumner Moore from day one for being such a condescending and
stuck-up little prick. He'd hated the whole condescending Moore family Well,
he'd taught them a lesson.
He'd turned out to be the tutor.
His first totally outrageous idea had been to make it look as if Sumner Moore,
the perfect cadet, were the child killer. He'd logged into the Moore's Prodigy
account and led the cops right to their house. What a great frigging prank
that had been -- the best. Then he'd decided to get rid of Sumner. That was
the second outrageous idea. He'd enjoyed killing Sumner Moore even more than
the little kids.
''He wanted to teach Cross a lesson now, too. Cross obviously didn't think the
Page 177
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
so-called Sojourner Truth School killer was worth much of his precious time.
Danny Boudreaux was no Gary Soneji in the eyes of Alex Cross. He was no Jack
and Jill. He was Nobody, right?
Well, we'll see about that, Dr. Cross. We'll just see how I stack up against [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]