Double Cross

copies of the picture. There’s a real good chance that he’s DCAK.
    “By the eleven o’clock news, this will be the most famous picture in Washington, probably in the entire country. The problem is, there’s no way Bell’s going to be seen looking like this. For what it’s worth, we’re working up simulations without all the hair. His height is the only given. Six two or six three. That’s something he won’t be able to change very much.”
    One of the Second District guys raised a hand. “Dr. Cross, if this is about revenge for Bell’s brother, why do you think he hasn’t come directly after you?”
    I nodded. It was a good question to get out of the way.
    “First of all, I’d say that he
has
come after me, but not in the way you mean. The closer he can put himself to those of us who are looking for him, the bigger his emotional payoff. I’m guessing it’s an extension of the kick he gets from killing in front of an audience. But it’s only an educated guess at this point. We just don’t know for sure.
    “Second, I’m not convinced yet that this is about revenge. We’ll have to see. If anything, I’d say he might be trying to succeed against me where his brother failed, and he’s using the brother to misdirect us. Maybe even to delude himself that this is serving something more than his own ego. But really it’s all been about him from the beginning. Not revenge, not his brother—
his huge ego
.”
    Lisa Johnson, one of our D-2s, looked up from her notes. “How would Bell even know you’d be assigned to the case? You weren’t back on the force when he started. That’s right, isn’t it?”
    Bree took that one. “Lisa, even if Alex wasn’t involved at the beginning, the Michael Bell connection would have gotten him involved eventually. And remember, we were
led
right to this connection.”
    “So you think he used the cell phone on purpose?” Johnson asked. “Am I tracking this right?”
    “Absolutely. I don’t think he does anything without a reason,” I said. “If we dropped the ball at some point, missed a clue, he would have lobbed another one our way. The more of this he can engineer, the more his needs will be met in the end.”
    “Meaning the need to kill and get away with it?” somebody asked from way in the back.
    “I was going to say, the need to
beat our brains in
at any cost, show us up. That’s what he’s done so far.”

Chapter 102

    LATE THAT NIGHT, as if to underscore everything that had happened so far, I got a direct reply from DCAK that seemed to say,
Ready or not, here I come—right in your face
!
    I was home, doing online research. On account of the Michael and Tyler Bell connection, I was particularly curious about sibling relationships in serial-murder cases. I’d found out about Danny and Larry Ranes, who had gone on separate sprees in the ’60s and ’70s. And there was a case in Rochester, the identical-twin Spahalski brothers. One twin had confessed to two murders and was suspected in at least two others, while his brother was serving time for a single, much earlier, homicide.
    Other than blood relation, neither instance showed any additional level of connection—no hookup to my role with the Bell brothers. And most of what I found involved two or more family members partnering for concurrent work.
    There was also the ongoing mystery about the woman in Baltimore.
Who the hell was she? And what had happened to her after the car chase? Did DCAK have an accomplice? And possibly a mentor in Kyle Craig
?
    I logged on to my department e-mail to send around some of what I’d learned.
    When it opened, I found a new message waiting for me. Not a nice one either.

    What do I want, Detective Cross? That’s it? Frankly, I’m surprised you have to ask. But let me spell it out for you as clearly as I can.
    I WANT you to pay for what you did to my brother. That’s reasonable, don’t you think?
    I WANT you to think about how you never really tried to understand him before you killed him. Just like you don’t understand me, and never will.
    I WANT to show you that you’re not nearly as good at this game as you think you are. None of you forensic shrinks ever are. Or the profilers, who are such incredible frauds, as even you probably know.
    And I WANT you to understand one more thing: this is never going to be on any terms but mine.
    That’s how it will end. The way I want it to, when I decide.
    Any more questions?
    — T.B. . . . or not T.B.?

    The