I, Alex Cross

at the Bureau in the last couple of days.
Top
heavy."
    "I assume you mean Burns is involved." Ron Burns was the Bureau’s director, and a decent guy. Mahoney shook his head; he wouldn’t answer that one directly, but I could figure it out for myself.
    "Ned, whatever happens, I’m only going to help."
    "I figured as much. But listen, Alex. You should assume you’re being watched on this one. It’s going to get nasty like you wouldn’t believe."
    "The nastier the better. Just means somebody cares. I’ll take my chances with that."
    "You already have." Ned clapped me on the shoulder and offered a grim smile. "You just didn’t know it until now."

Chapter 35

    THE METING WITH Ned was useful, but it had also given me a headache, so I was playing a little Brahms in the car on the way back to Judiciary Square. I picked up a voice mail from Ramon Davies’s secretary as I sped along the streets of DC. The superintendent wanted to see me as soon as possible. That didn’t sit too well on top of Ned’s warning at the mall. The last time Davies called, it was to tell me that Caroline had been killed.
    When I got to the Daly Building, I bypassed the elevator and jogged up the stairs to the third floor. Davies’s office door was open, and I rapped two knuckles on the frame.
    He was hunched over paperwork at his desk. The wall behind him was hung with some of his large collection of commendations, including MPD’s Detective of the Year for 2002. I had the award for ’04, but no big office to put a plaque up in. Actually, the certificate was in a drawer someplace at home; at least I thought it was.
    Davies nodded when he saw me. We weren’t exactly friends, but we worked well together and there was respect on both sides. "Come in, and close the door."
    As I sat down, I couldn’t help noticing my own handwriting on some of the photocopied pages he was studying.
    "Is that Caroline’s file?" I asked.
    Davies didn’t answer at first. He sat back and eyeballed me for a few seconds. Then he said, "I had a call this morning from Internal Affairs."
    There it was — just about the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. Internal Affairs used to be called the Office of Professional Responsibility. Before that, it was — Internal Affairs. MPD is nothing if not fluid that way.
    "What did they want?" I asked.
    "I think you know. Did you threaten that anchor asshole Ryan Willoughby at Channel Nine? He says you did. So does his assistant."
    "I sat back and took a breath before I answered. "It’s bullshit. Things got a little heated, that’s all."
    "Okay. I had another call yesterday, from a Congressman Mintzer. Want to guess what he was calling about?"
    I couldn’t believe it — though it was typical enough Washington power-playing and outright bullying. "Both of their phone numbers were found in Caroline’s apartment."
    "I don’t need you to give me the 101. Not yet anyway." "He held up the file to illustrate his point. "I just need to know that you’ve got a cool head on this."
    "I do. But this isn’t just another homicide investigation, and I don’t mean because my niece was killed and cut up into pieces."
    "Damn straight it’s not, Alex. That’s the whole point. These complaints could become a problem. For you and for the entire investigation."
    I was talking to Davies, but I was also trying to think this thing through. Citizen complaints — when they’re investigated — can end up at one of four conclusions. They can be sustained, determined unfounded, deemed unprovable for lack of evidence, or the officer can be exonerated because no regulation was broken. I felt confident that at worst, I was in the last category.
    Davies wasn’t done with me, though. "I give you more leeway than just about any detective in this division," he said.
    "Thank you. I’m handling it okay, right? Despite appearances."
    That got a microscopic grin. He studied me for another few seconds and then sat back. When he started putting away his notes, I knew we were over the hump. At least for right now.
    "I want you on this investigation, Alex. But believe me when I say that the minute — and I mean the minute — - anyone tries to take this over my head, I’m pulling you off."
    He stood up then, my sign to get out of there while I still could. "Keep me in the loop. I don’t want to have to call you again. You call me."
    "Of course," I assured him, and then I left. If I stuck around longer, I’d have to tell him about my meeting