Violets Are Blue - James Patterson [94]
I warned a couple detective friends — Rakeem Powell and Jerome Thurman, who were still on the D.C. force. I doubted Kyle would come after them, but I didn’t know for sure.
I phoned my chief contact at the Washington Post, a writer named Zachary Scott Taylor. Zach was also one of my best friends in Washington. He wanted to interview me, but I told Zach not to come. Kyle was jealous of the stories Zach had written about me. He had told me as much. For whatever reason, he didn’t like Zach.
“This is serious,” I told Zach. “Don’t underestimate how crazy this man is. You’re on his shit list, and that’s a bad place to be.”
I spoke to FBI agents Scorse and Reilly, who had worked with me on the kidnapping of Maggie Rose Dunne and Michael Goldberg. They knew about the manhunt for Kyle but hadn’t been concerned for their own safety. Now they were.
I called my niece Naomi, who’d been kidnapped by Casanova. Naomi was practicing law in Jacksonville, Florida. She was living with a good guy named Seth Samuel Taylor. They were planning to marry later this year. “He likes to ruin other people’s happiness,” I told Naomi. “Be careful. I know you will be.”
I called Kate McTiernan in North Carolina. I remembered the meal she’d had with Kyle and me. Had it meant anything more than what it had seemed to on the surface? Who knew with Kyle? Kate promised to be extra careful, and reminded me that she was a third-degree black belt now. Kyle had always liked Kate, and I reminded her of that. Actually, the more I talked to Kate, the more worried I was about her. “Don’t take any chances, Kate. Kyle is the craziest person I’ve ever met.”
I contacted Sandy Greenberg, a good friend at Interpol who had worked with Kyle several times. She was shocked to learn that Kyle was a murderer. She promised to be extra careful until he was caught; Sandy also offered to help in any way that she could.
Kyle Craig was a cold, heartless murderer.
My partner at times, my friend, or so I’d thought.
I still couldn’t believe it. Not completely. I tried to make up a possible hit list for Kyle.
1. Myself
2. Nana and the kids
3. Sampson
4. Jamilla
I realized I was making the list from my point of view, not necessarily Kyle’s. I tried another list.
1. Kyle’s family — every member
2. Myself — and my family
3. Director Burns of the FBI
4. Jamilla
5. Kate McTiernan
I sat in my empty house on Fifth Street and wondered what the hell he would do next. It was driving me crazy; I felt like I was running in circles.
Kyle was capable of anything.
Chapter 104
HE FINALLY called again.
“I killed them and I don’t feel a thing. Nothing at all. You will, though, Alex. In a way, you’re to blame. Nobody but you. I didn’t even want to kill them, but I had to do it. That’s the way the horror story has to go. It’s out of control now. I’ll admit that.”
The horrifying confession came at quarter past five in the morning. I had been asleep about three hours when the phone rang. Panic raced through my body. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.
“Who did you kill?” I asked Kyle. “Who? Tell me who it was. Tell me.”
“What difference does it make? They’re dead, slaughtered. It’s someone you care about. There’s nothing you can do now — except catch me. I suppose I could help you. Isn’t that what you want to hear? Would that make this more interesting for you? Would it make it fair?” He started to laugh uncontrollably. Christ, I had never known him to lose control.
I let him go on. Inflated his ego. That’s what he wanted and needed, wasn’t it?
Who had Kyle killed? Oh God, who was dead? It was more than one person — slaughtered.
“We always worked as a team. In a way, it would be my crowning moment — to catch myself. I’ve thought about it, actually. Fantasized. What better challenge could there be? I can’t think of one. Me against myself.” He started to laugh again.
I had to force myself not to ask again who he had murdered. It would just make Kyle angry. He might hang up. Still, my mind