Roses Are Red - James Patterson [55]
The high-tech FBI war room was still in place, but now three of the four walls were covered with possible leads. The FBI point of view was that every avenue must be explored. The director had already gone on record saying that it was the largest manhunt in FBI history. Corporate America was applying enormous pressure. The same thing had happened after the Unabomber had killed a New Jersey businessman in the early nineties.
I spent most of the day in a windowless, seemingly airless conference room watching an endless slide show, along with several agents and other Metro police detectives. Suspects were continuously shown on the big screen, then discussed and placed into three categories: Discard, Active, and Extremely Active.
At six o’clock that night, Senior Agent Walsh held a meeting that covered the possibility that the crew might strike again soon. Betsey Cavalierre arrived late for the briefing. She sat in the back and observed.
Two FBI behavioral psychologists had worked up a list of potential future targets for the Mastermind. The targets included multinational banks, other top insurance companies, credit card companies, communications conglomerates, and Wall Street firms.
One of the behavioral psychologists, Dr. Joanna Rodman, stated that the robberies demonstrated venom and hatred — the likes of which she’d never seen before. She said the perpetrators relished outwitting authorities and possibly hungered for fame and notoriety.
Dr. Rodman then made her most challenging statement. She believed that the Mastermind would strike again. “I’m willing to bet on it,” she said, “and I’m not a betting type of person.”
I remained quiet for most of the meeting. I preferred to sit in the back of the class and listen. That was the way I had gone through Georgetown undergraduate and then Johns Hopkins.
Agent Cavalierre would have none of it. “Dr. Cross, what do you think about the possibility of our Mastermind hitting again?” she asked shortly after Dr. Rodman finished speaking. “Care to make your bet?”
I rubbed my lower face and I remembered that I’d had the same tic in grad school. I sat up in my seat.
“I’m not a betting person, either. I think the list of potential targets is thorough. I agree with most of what’s been said. One person is running this thing. Different crews were recruited for very specific tasks.”
I frowned slightly at Betsey, then I went on. “I think the first robbery-murders were supposed to terrify everybody. They did. But in the MetroHartford job, the crew was supposed to operate quickly and efficiently, without bloodshed. I didn’t see evidence of venom or hatred in the MetroHartford kidnapping. Not from what the hostages told us. That’s inconsistent with the earlier bank robberies. The fact that no one was killed makes me believe . . . that it’s all over. It’s done.”
“Thirty million and out?” Betsey Cavalierre asked. “That’s it?”
I nodded. “I think the Mastermind’s game now is — catch me if you can. And by the way — you can’t.”
Chapter 75
BETSEY CAVALIERRE came up to me after the briefing ended. “Not to be a total suck-up, but I agree with you,” she said. “I think he might be playing with us. He may have even set up Mitchell Brand.”
“I think it’s possible,” I said. “Strange and insane as it seems on the face of it. He has a huge ego, he’s competing, and that’s the best thing we have going for us right now. It’s the only small edge that we have.”
“We’re going to break for the night. Have a drink with me downstairs, Alex. I want to talk to you. I promise not to babble about the Mastermind.”
I winced. “Betsey, I have to get home tonight. My little girl came back from the hospital yesterday,” I told her. “Sorry. I can’t believe this has happened twice. I’m not trying to avoid you.”
She smiled kindly. “I understand, and it’s no big deal. I just have this sixth sense that you need somebody