I was sent home with a prescription for a drug called Keflex. I was to keep my infected arm elevated and administer Domeboro soaks every four hours.
I was too sick to do much of anything by the time I got home. I lay in bed and listened to "Elliot in the Morning" on the radio. Nana and the kids hovered around me. Nausea swept over me really bad; I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate on anything except the painful throbbing in my shoulder and hand. I became delirious for several hours.
Now you're one of us.
I finally fell asleep, but I woke up around one in the morning. The witching hours. I felt even worse. I was afraid the phone would ring and it would be the Mastermind.
Someone was in the room with me.
I sighed when I saw who it was.
Jannie was sitting in the chair by my bed, keeping watch over me.
"Just like you did when I was sick last year," she said. "Now sleep, Daddy. Just sleep. Rest up. And don't you dare turn into a vampire on me."
I didn't answer Jannie. I couldn't even manage a few words. I drifted off to sleep again.
Chapter 54
No one would expect this, and that was why it was so good, so excellent. The end of Alex Cross.
It was time for it to happen. Maybe it was overdue. Cross had to die.
The Mastermind was inside the Cross house, and it was as exciting and extraordinary an experience as he had imagined it would be. He'd never felt more powerful than he did standing in the dark living room at a little past three in the morning. He had won the battle between the two of them. The Mastermind had triumphed. Cross was the loser. Tomorrow, all of Washington would be mourning his death.
He could do anything— so what should he do first?
He wanted to sit and think about it. No need to rush. Where would he choose to sit? Why of course, on Cross's bench at his piano on the sunporch. Cross's favorite spot for relaxation and escape, the place he liked to play with his children, smarmy, sentimental bastard that he was.
The Mastermind was tempted to play something, perhaps a little Gershwin, to show Cross that even his command of the piano was superior. He wanted to announce himself in a dramatic fashion. This was so good, so delicious. He never wanted tonight to end.
But was it the absolute best he could do? It had to be a night he would never forget, something to savor always. A souvenir that would have great meaning to him, only to him.
There were two triangles that explained his complex relationship with Alex Cross, and he visualized them as he sat on the porch, biding his time, enjoying himself immensely. Christ, he was smiling like a damn fool. He was in his element, and he was happy, so happy.
Himself
LOVE
Villain Father
(his brother)
(Alex)
Himself
LOVE
Alex's women
His brother
(grandmother, girlfriends)
(Alex)
It was such a good psychological model, so concise and clear and sound. It explained everything that was going to happen tonight. Even Dr. Cross would approve. It was the perfect dysfunctional family triangle.
Maybe he would explain it to Cross now. Just before he murdered him. He slid on plastic gloves and then plastic booties. He checked the load in his pistol. Everything was set. Then upstairs he went — the Caller, the Mastermind, Svengali, Moriarty.
He knew the Cross house very well. He didn't even need a light. He didn't make any unnecessary noise. No mistakes. No evidence or clues for the local police or the FBI to follow.
What an incredible way this was for Cross and his family to die. What a coup. What a chilling idea. The "killing order" was starting to come to him as he climbed the stairs. Yes, he was sure of it.
Little Alex Jannie Damon Nana then Cross
He walked to the end of the upstairs hallway and stood there listening before he opened the bedroom door. Not a sound. He slowly pushed on the door.
What was this? A surprise? Christ!
He didn't like surprises. He liked precision and order. He liked to be in total control.
The young daughter, Jannie, was sitting by Cross's bed, fast asleep. Watching over her father, protecting him from harm.
He watched Cross and the girl for a long moment, maybe ninety seconds. A small night-light had been left on in the room.
There were thick bandages on Cross's hand and shoulder. He was perspiring in his sleep. He was wounded, sick, not himself, not a worthy opponent. The killer sighed. He felt such disappointment, such sadness and despair.
No, no, no! This was all wrong. This wouldn't do. It was all wrong, all wrong!
He slowly closed the bedroom door, and then he quickly, silently retraced his steps back out of the Cross house. No one would know he had been there. Not even the detective himself.
As usual, no one knew anything about him. No one suspected a thing.
He was the Mastermind, after all.
Chapter 55
I woke several times during the night. I thought someone was in the house at one point. I felt someone there. Nothing I could do about it, though.
Then I woke again after fourteen hours in bed, and found that I was actually feeling better. I could almost think straight again. Exhaustion still had a hold on me, though. All my joints ached. My eyesight was blurry. I could hear music playing softly in the house. Erykah Badu, one of any favorites.
There was a knock on the bedroom door, and I said, "I'm decent. Who goes there?"
Jannie pushed open the door. She was holding a red plastic tray with a breakfast of poached eggs, hot cereal, orange juice, and a mug of steaming coffee. She was smiling, obviously proud of herself. I smiled back at her. That's my girl. What a little sweetheart she was — when she wanted to be.
"I don't know if you can eat yet, Daddy. I brought you some breakfast. Just in case."
"Thank you, sweetie. I'm feeling a little better," I said. I was able to push myself up in bed, then to prop a few pillows behind me with my good hand.
Jannie carried the tray over to the bed and carefully set it on my lap. She leaned in and kissed my fuzzy cheek. "Somebody needs a shave."
"You're being so nice," I said to her.
"I am nice, Daddy," Jannie answered. "You feel good enough for a little company? We'll just watch you eat — we'll be good. No trouble. Is it okay?"
"Just what I need right now," I said.
Jannie came back with little Alex in her arms and Damon trailing behind, giving me the high sign. They climbed up on my bed and, as promised, they were very good, the best medicine around.
"You just eat your breakfast while it's hot. You're getting too skinny," Jannie teased.
"Yeah, you are," Damon agreed. "You are drawn and gaunt."
"Very good." I smiled between small bites of eggs and toast, which I hoped I could keep down. I kept running my hand over little Alex's head.
"Did somebody poison you, Daddy?" Jannie wanted to know. "What exactly happened?"
I sighed and shook my head. "I don't know, baby. It's an infection. You can get it from a human bite."
Jannie and Damon grimaced. "Nana says its septicemia. They used to call it blood poisoning." Damon contributed some scholarly research.
"Who am I to argue with Nana?" I said, and left it at that. "I'm no match for Nana Mama right now." Or maybe ever.