An Evil Mind (35 page)

‘The fact that Lucien might know where Madeleine Reed is being kept hasn’t changed, Robert,’ Kennedy said again. ‘You can’t walk away from this now. You can’t turn your back on her.’

Hunter studied the photograph for a while longer before returning the sheet to the director in silence.

Kennedy took the opportunity to press on. ‘I know you don’t work for me, Robert, so I can’t order you to do anything, but I do know you. I know your moral values. I know what you stand for and what you’ve dedicated your life to. And if you allow your emotions to dictate your actions now, no matter how hurt and angry you feel inside, you won’t be able to live with yourself later. You won’t be able to face yourself in the mirror. You know that full well.’

A headache was pinching and pricking behind Hunter’s eyes.

‘I’ve been searching for Jessica’s killers for twenty years, Adrian.’ Hunter’s voice was low and full of hurt. ‘Not a day has gone by since that I don’t regret not being there for her that night. Not a day has gone by since that I haven’t promised her and myself that I would find them, and when I did, I would make them pay, no matter the consequences to myself.’

‘I understand that,’ Kennedy said.

‘Do you?’ Hunter questioned. ‘Do you, really?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘She was pregnant,’ Hunter said.

The air was knocked out of Kennedy’s lungs. He looked back at Hunter with confusion on his face.

‘Jessica was pregnant,’ Hunter repeated it. ‘We had found out that morning, through one of those off-the-shelf pregnancy tests, but we both knew it was true. That was the reason for her booking the restaurant that night. We were supposed to be celebrating. We were both . . .’ Hunter paused to catch his breath: ‘. . . so happy.’

Taylor felt a paralyzing chill run through her. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what, or how.

‘Lucien didn’t only take the woman that I was supposed to marry from me, Adrian,’ Hunter said. ‘He took away the family I was supposed to have.’

Kennedy looked down at the floor in solemn silence. His way of paying his respects and recognizing Hunter’s pain.

‘I’m sorry, Robert,’ Kennedy finally said. ‘I never knew that.’

‘No one did,’ Hunter replied. ‘Not even her family. We wanted to wait until Jess had seen the doctor so we had official confirmation.’ Hunter’s gaze returned to the window. ‘I asked the coroner to omit it from the autopsy report. That was not the way I wanted her parents to find out, and I saw no point in adding to their pain.’

‘I can only imagine your pain, your anger, and how devastating that must’ve been for you, Robert,’ Kennedy said after a long and dark silence. ‘And I am so sorry.’

‘And nevertheless you still want to put me inside an enclosed space with the person who I’ve been searching for for twenty years and swore revenge on, without the security of the Plexiglas wall between us.’

‘He’s been caught, Robert,’ Kennedy said back, in a measured voice. ‘Lucien is sitting in an underground, escape-proof prison cell five levels below the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit. He
is
going to pay for everything he’s done. He’s going to pay for what he did to Jessica and to you.’ He pointed to the printout. ‘But this girl may die if you don’t get in that plane with Lucien. I know you don’t want to let that happen.’

‘You can send someone else.’

‘No we can’t, Robert,’ Taylor, who was standing by Kennedy’s desk, said, turning to face him. ‘You heard what Lucien said downstairs. You and me and him. Not a person less, not a person more. We break that deal, and if Madeleine isn’t already dead, she will die – alone – probably until the last second still holding on to some hope that someone will find her. We owe this to her, Robert.’

Hunter said nothing.

‘Courtney is right, Robert,’ Kennedy said. ‘If Madeleine isn’t already dead, we’re losing precious time here. We’ve got to act now. Please don’t let your anger and sorrow take away Madeleine’s chances of being saved. Her only chance of being saved.’

Hunter looked at Madeleine’s photograph attached to the printout once again.

‘She’s not dead,’ he said, not an ounce of doubt in his voice.

‘What?’ Kennedy asked.

‘You said, “If Madeleine isn’t already dead”.’ Hunter shook his head. ‘Madeleine Reed isn’t dead. She’s still alive.’

Eighty

The unwavering conviction in Hunter’s voice was reassuring and confusing in equal measure.

Taylor’s question came not from words, but from a slight shake of the head complemented by narrowing eyes.

‘She’s alive,’ Hunter told them again with a firm nod.

‘How can you be so sure?’ Doctor Lambert asked. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Detective Hunter. I do agree with Director Kennedy. I believe you must act now, but you must also be prepared for the fact that you could already be too late to save this poor girl’s life, or even for the fact that Lucien could be sending you on a wild goose chase. He’s a deceiver by nature, with years of experience. As Agent Taylor said during your last interview, Lucien might be looking at this as his last chance outside, which gives him a better chance at trying something than if he’s sitting in a cell five levels underground.’

‘That could be,’ Hunter replied. ‘But Madeleine is still alive.’

‘So I’ll repeat Doctor Lambert’s question,’ Kennedy took over. ‘How can you be so sure, Robert?’

‘Because Madeleine Reed is Lucien’s trump card,’ Hunter said. ‘He’s been holding on to it from day one. When did you first bring him here to the BSU?’

‘Seven days ago,’ Kennedy answered. ‘You know that.’

‘And yet he hasn’t mentioned her until now,’ Hunter reminded them. ‘As Doctor Lambert said, Lucien’s got a lot of experience. He’s been playing this game for a very long time. Even though he was caught by chance, every move he makes is calculated to the last detail. And an experienced player knows one major rule about trump cards.’

‘Never play them too soon,’ Taylor said. ‘You hold on to them until the best possible moment.’

Hunter nodded. ‘Or until it’s imperative that you do. You’ve all mentioned how impressive Lucien’s internal clock and calculations are, right? He knows exactly how much food and water he’s left Madeleine. He’s already said that she’d learned how to ration everything almost to perfection. He’s calculated the threshold. He’s known it from day one, and I’m sure he’s got a very accurate idea of where the point of no return is. And yet he saw no reason in playing his trump card until now. And that reason is – he wants to make this a race against time, because that puts us under tremendous pressure. A hell of a lot more pressure than just finding victims’ remains.’

Everyone breathed in Hunter’s words for a second.

‘And that’s also why he waited until now to reveal that he was your fiancée’s killer,’ Doctor Lambert said, ‘because that not only puts you under extreme pressure, but it also affects your state of mind. It destabilizes you. It makes you emotional, and therefore more vulnerable, more prone to mistakes. Lucien knew that fully well.’

Goose bumps ran up and down Taylor’s skin.

‘But that also makes Robert more volatile,’ she said. ‘If Lucien weren’t behind that Plexiglas wall, he’d probably be dead now.’ Her gaze moved to Hunter, who returned her stare with 100 percent conviction.

‘And maybe that’s exactly what he wants,’ Doctor Lambert said. ‘Not to try to escape while he’s outside with you both, but suicide by cop.’

Kennedy and Taylor frowned at him, but that was exactly what Hunter had been thinking about while staring out the window.

‘Why would he be looking for suicide by cop?’ Taylor asked.

‘Because whatever happens, Lucien wants to be remembered,’ Hunter said. ‘He wants the notoriety.’ He drew air quotations with his fingers. ‘The “prestige” that comes with being a famous serial killer. He wants his legacy to be studied in criminology and criminal behavior classes. That’s one of the reasons he’s been writing this encyclopedia of his, if that really is what he’s been doing.’

‘I understand that,’ Taylor said, ‘but that will probably happen no matter what. He doesn’t have to be killed to achieve it.’

‘True,’ Hunter agreed, ‘but he also understands that his reputation would get an exponential boost if he doesn’t end his days behind bars, or executed by the state. I’m sure that in his mind that would not be a suitable conclusion to his lifelong project. On the other hand, if he’s shot dead by the FBI while they’re trying to rescue his last victim . . .’ Hunter shrugged and let the significance of what he’d said intoxicate the air.

‘He becomes a legend,’ Doctor Lambert agreed.

‘So, if you think Madeleine Reed is still alive,’ Kennedy said, addressing Hunter, ‘and assuming that Lucien’s got his calculations right, how long would you say we have, Robert?’

Hunter pulled a dubious face. ‘My best guess is that from the time he told us about Madeleine, we would’ve had around twenty hours to find her. After that, I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.’

Kennedy checked his watch. ‘So we’ve got to act fast,’ he said. ‘We can’t waste any more time here, Robert.’

Madeleine’s photograph was still on the desk. It looked like she was staring straight at Hunter.

‘Is the plane ready?’ he said.

‘It will be by the time you get to the runway,’ Kennedy replied, ‘but the two of you need to get ready first.’

‘Be prepared,’ Doctor Lambert said as everyone began moving, ‘because I think you’re right, Detective Hunter. Lucien will try to push both of you to the limit, and he knows that as things stand right now, he won’t even need to push that hard. I think that once he gets out there again, he will do whatever it takes not to end up back here. Even if it costs his life.’

Hunter zipped up his jacket. ‘And I’m fine with that.’ He looked at Taylor. ‘As long as I’m the one who takes the shot.’

Eighty-One

Before heading down to the SUV that was already waiting for them by one of the security exits at the back of the building, Hunter and Taylor were both asked to hand in their shirts so that two state-of-the-art, wireless surveillance microphones could be fitted onto them. The microphones were disguised as regular buttons, but so that a single button didn’t differ from the other ones, every button on both shirts had to be replaced. The one just above their belly button was the microphone. It connected via a small cable to a very powerful but inconspicuous satellite transmitter that resembled a stick of gum, strapped to the small of their backs. The microphone also worked as a GPS locator. Director Adrian Kennedy and his team would know their exact location at all times. But as soon as he got his shirt back, Hunter opposed the idea.

‘The fake buttons aren’t the same exact color as the original ones,’ he told Adrian Kennedy.

‘They’re close enough,’ Kennedy replied.

‘Maybe to most people,’ Hunter said. ‘But not for Lucien.’

‘Are you telling me that you think he’s noticed the color of the buttons on yours and Agent Taylor’s shirts?’

‘Trust me. Lucien has noticed everything, Adrian. He’s like a sponge.’

‘Well, this is the best we can do given our timeframe,’ Kennedy said back. ‘I need ears with you at all times, so we’re going to have to roll with this.’

This could be a costly mistake,
Hunter thought.

Everything was already in place by the time Lucien was escorted out of the security exit by two US Marines, ten minutes later. He was wearing the same orange prisoner jumpsuit he’d been wearing throughout the interviews. His hands and ankles were shackled by metal chains that looped around his waist, restricting his movements – his arms would not come up past his chest, and his step would never go beyond one foot, making it impossible for him to run.

‘Something is missing from this equation,’ Lucien said to Taylor, as she opened the back door of the SUV to allow him to climb in.

‘Detective Hunter will meet us in the plane,’ Taylor said, knowing exactly what Lucien was referring to.

Lucien laughed. ‘But of course. He needs time to find himself and maybe check his emotions before this whole thing turns into a total fiasco, isn’t that so, Agent Taylor?’

Taylor didn’t reply. If she were to allow her emotions to take over, she would probably punch him in the face right there and then, and shoot both of his kneecaps off. Instead, she simply held the door open while both Marines helped him onto the backseat, locked his chains to the metal loop on the car’s floor, and handed the keys to Taylor.

‘I love your sunglasses, Agent Taylor,’ Lucien said, as Taylor took the passenger’s seat. ‘They’re very . . . FBI. Do you think I could get a pair, just for the sake of this trip?’

Taylor said nothing.

‘I guess that will be a “no” then.’

Lucien looked at his cuffed hands for a short instant; when he spoke again his voice was controlled and measured – no excitement, no anger, just a robotic flat tone. ‘How do you think this is going to end up, Agent Taylor?’

The driver, an African American Marine who looked like he could probably bench-press that entire SUV got the car in motion.

Taylor kept her eyes on the road.

‘C’mon, Agent Taylor,’ Lucien insisted. ‘It’s a fair question. I’m very interested in knowing what your expectations are. You’ve done great so far. You’ve managed to obtain information that has led the FBI to retrieve the lost remains of three victims.’ His eyebrows popped up and down once. ‘Assuming that your team is competent enough to follow instructions, you should also find the remains of the five victims I left in New Haven. And you have also managed to acquire information that might lead you to a live victim, which, if you succeed in saving her, will make you into a hero, Agent Taylor. That’s not bad going at all for just two days of interviews. So I think my question is quite fair. How do you think this whole thing is going to end up? Do you think you and Robert will become heroes, or will this turn into your worst nightmare?’

Taylor saw the driver’s questioning eyes flick toward her for a fraction of a second.

What she really wanted to do was to turn around and tell Lucien that they were going to find Madeleine Reed and finally put an end to her torture. Then they would bring him back to the BSU so that he could tell them where to find the remains of all his other victims. After that, he would either rot in prison or be executed by the state. Either way, it made no difference to her because she would never have to look at his face again. But she kept her composure and didn’t say a word. She didn’t even look at him.