Double Cross - James Patterson [25]
“Important to know. Let’s finish dressing, then.”
Kyle put on the lawyer’s clothes quickly—just in case a guard came by, which happened occasionally, though not usually during the legal sessions, when Kyle and the lawyer were left alone by law.
Mason Wainwright had worn clothes a couple of sizes too small that day, including his trademark cowboy hat. When Kyle got to the boots, he inserted two-inch lifts from out of the briefcase.
Now he stood at a little over six two, close enough to the lawyer’s height.
Dressed in the prison jumpsuit, the lawyer was still taller than Kyle, but he would walk with the prisoner’s habitual slump, so it wouldn’t matter that much, if at all. They were ready now, but the plan called for them to stay together for the full hour. Just as they always did. Everything exactly the same. Rituals to be observed.
“Do you want to ask your questions—the eight?” the lawyer said. “Or should I ask them?”
Kyle went through the usual questions. Then neither of them spoke for the remainder of the time they had together. Kyle Craig seemed to be almost in a trance. But he was just thinking ahead, making plans.
Finally, when only a minute or so of the meeting remained, Kyle rose first, looking like the lawyer, of course.
Then the lawyer stood, looking like Kyle Craig.
Kyle extended his arms, and Mason Wainwright moved into them. “In your honor,” the lawyer whispered. “I apologize that this took so long to arrange.”
“Masterpieces take time,” said Kyle Craig.
Chapter 32
MASON WAINWRIGHT WAS SLUMPED over slightly and looking down at the floor when the guard opened the door to the small meeting room. “Let’s go, Craig,” the guard ordered. “Play period’s over. Time to go back to your suite.”
Wainwright muttered his assent, then he moved down the hallway in front of the ill-tempered turnkey. He was bent over and shuffling like the “dead man walking” he was supposed to be. Just don’t let him see you blink, he reminded himself.
This was the time when the whole plan could go up in flames. Everything could be lost in the next few minutes. His part was an easy one to play, though—stay calm, keep quiet, head down—unless the guard noticed some change, some error on his part. The lawyer had studied Kyle Craig’s mannerisms for months and believed he pretty much had everything down. Still, he couldn’t be certain until this was over.
Suddenly the guard’s nightstick was in the small of his back. What was this? Shit, no!
He’d obviously made a mistake and wondered what it was. Where had he messed up and ruined the escape Kyle Craig had been planning since the first day he arrived at the supermaximum-security prison? Maybe even before then, since the Mastermind seemed to anticipate everything that could possibly happen.
“This way, Mastermind. You forget the way to your own cell, genius?” the guard said, and laughed derisively. “C’mon, let’s move it! Gotta get back to my Court TV.”
The lawyer didn’t look around at the prison guard, didn’t acknowledge him in any way, just turned down the indicated corridor and continued to slump along.
Fortunately nothing else went wrong on the way back to Kyle Craig’s cell. Finally the guard slammed the door, and Wainwright was alone. He’d done it!
Only then did the lawyer raise his eyes and dare to look around. So, this was where the Mastermind had lived, and how he had lived for the past several years. What a disgrace that such a fine mind would be trapped in a space with virtually no stimulation and that Kyle had been subject to the urges and whims of bestial prison guards and slow-witted administrators.
“In your honor,” the lawyer whispered again, then he prepared himself to follow the rest of Kyle Craig’s instructions.
The lawyer checked out the small cell, which was made of poured concrete. The bed, desk, stool, and bedside table were screwed into the floor as a safety precaution. The toilet had an automatic shutdown so cells