Sampson promised to stay with Nana and the kids until I could get home. There was no one that I trusted more, no one in the world they would be safer with. Still, I couldn’t be sure, and that was a terrible weight to carry. I didn’t feel I could leave California until I had at least located Jamilla, and knew she was safe. Finally I called Tim Bradley at The Examiner. He didn’t know where she was, or even that she’d taken a day off work. Maybe she had needed to get away from town - to get away from being a homicide detective.
I was beginning to feel that maybe I had made a mistake by stopping in San Francisco. The longer I sat on the street, outside her house, the more convinced I was of it. Maybe the job was finally getting to me. The instincts go first.
But every time I considered leaving, I remembered the night I arrived at Betsey Cavalierre’s house, seeing her dead body. And instincts had gotten me here in my career.
Feelings, gut1 reactions, experiences from the past.
Maybe just plain stubbornness2.
I stayed on surveillance, stayed at my post. I got out of the car a couple of times, walked up and down the block a little. Climbed back in the car. Waited some more. I felt more than a little ridiculous, but I wouldn’t give in to it. I checked in with Sampson again. Everything was okay at home. Another homicide detective I knew, Jerome Thurman, had arrived at the house, too. Double duty against the Mastermind. Was that enough protection?
Then I saw Jamilla coming up the street in her Saab. I actually clapped my hands together. I smacked3 the dashboard with my palm.
Yes. Thank God she was safe. There she was
She parked about half a block from her house on Texas Street, got out, pulling a University of San Francisco gym bag behind her. I wanted to run up and hug her, but I stayed in my car. Her hair was up in a ponytail. She was wearing a dark blue tee and loose gray workout pants. She was all right; she hadn’t been hurt Jamilla hadn’t been murdered by the Mastermind.
I stared through the car windshield, waiting to see if anyone was watching her, stalking4 her. fart of me wanted to leave well enough alone now, to go home to Washington. But I kept remembering what had happened to Betsey Cavalierre after we finished our case together.
Why then? Why my partner? I almost didn’t want to go there.
I gave Jamilla time to get inside - then I called her on my cell. ‘This is Jamilla Hughes. Your message is important to me. Please leave it at the beep.’
Damn5 it! I hated those machines.
‘Jamilla, this is Alex Cross. Call me. It’s important. Please—‘ ‘Hi, Alex. Where are you? How are you?’ I could hear the smile in her voice, and it sounded inappropriate because of the emotional state I was in.
‘Please be careful.’ I continued with what I was going to leave her as a message. I told her why I was concerned. Finally, I had to admit the worst: that I was on the street outside her apartment. ‘Well, come inside for God’s sake,’ she said. There were no recriminations, not even any surprise in her voice. ‘I think you’re over-reacting. Maybe. Let’s talk about it, though. Let’s talk this thing through.’
‘No, let me stay out here for a while. I hope you don’t think I’m being too crazy. Whoever killed Betsey has been contacting me ever since her death. The Mastermind could be here in San Francisco. He killed her right after we finished our case. Detective Cooke was murdered after the magicians7 were killed in New Orleans.’
That gave her pause.’Maybe I think you’re a little crazy, Alex. But I understand why you would be. I see where you’re going with this. I’m also touched that you came here to watch over me. And what happened to your last partner does scare me.’
It helped that I knew where Jam was, and that I had actually talked to her. After we spoke8, I continued watching her street. I don’t know how many times I had thought about Betsey Cavalierre’s murder and wondered who the killer9 was, but I did it again as I sat in the car. I stayed there for several hours. Jamilla and I talked a couple of times. She urged me to come up to her apartment. I said no.’Let me do it my way. Jam.’
It was getting late, though, and I was beginning to fade. I saw the lights in her apartment go off. Good for her. At least one of us was acting6 sane10.
I continued to wait. Something powerful, dramatic, haunting11 was nagging12 at me. Something I almost didn’t want to face. The clues had been there, but I hadn’t wanted to see them for what they were. I’d wanted to follow my’famous instincts’. Look where it had gotten me. I had blown it for so long.
Then I saw him, and everything made sense. Suddenly the puzzle was clear; all the pieces fit. Not just Betsey’s murder - the Casanova murder, the stalking of Kate McTiernan, the fact that he’d been able to keep a step ahead of me.
The killer was here on Jamilla’s street.
The Mastermind was here in San Francisco.
I was sure, and it made me dizzy with fear. But also with incredible13 disappointment, sadness, confusion14. I felt like I might throw up.It was Kyle Craig. He was watching Jamilla’s place, stalking her like the madman that he was. The goddamn Mastermind had come here to kill her.
How could I stop him?
1 gut | |
n.[pl.]胆量;内脏;adj.本能的;vt.取出内脏 | |
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2 stubbornness | |
n.倔强,顽强;牛性;牛脾气;犟劲 | |
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3 smacked | |
拍,打,掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 stalking | |
围捕,潜近;潜进 | |
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5 damn | |
int.该死,他妈的;vt.指责,贬斥,诅咒 | |
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6 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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7 magicians | |
n.魔术师( magician的名词复数 );巫师;术士;施妖术的人 | |
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8 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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9 killer | |
n.杀人者,杀人犯,杀手,屠杀者 | |
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10 sane | |
adj.心智健全的,神志清醒的,明智的,稳健的 | |
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11 haunting | |
adj.萦绕心头的;不易忘怀的;无法甩脱的;给人以强烈感受的v.常去;缠扰(某人);萦绕心头 | |
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12 nagging | |
adj.唠叨的,挑剔的;使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评(某人)( nag的现在分词 );不断地烦扰或伤害(某人);无休止地抱怨;不断指责 | |
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13 incredible | |
adj.难以置信的,不可信的,极好的,大量的 | |
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14 confusion | |
n.困惑,迷乱,混淆,混乱,骚乱 | |
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