Pierce’s eyes widened in disbelief. He looked at Conklin as if he were the madman. “Didn’t I just say precisely that? Weren’t you listening? Am I talking to myself here? No, it won’t matter in their court. This is my court. So far, you’re losing your case, Simple Simon. You’re smart, though. I’m confident you can do a much better job over the next few hours.”
Simon Conklin gasped. A shiny, stainless-steel scalpel was pointed at his chest.
Chapter 107
“LOOK AT ME! Would you focus on what I’m saying, Simon. I’m not another gray suit from the FBI-I have important questions to ask. I want you to answer them truthfully. You were the one at Cross’s house! You attacked Cross. Let’s proceed from there.”
With a swift move of his left arm, Pierce pulled Conklin roughly up off the cellar floor. His physical strength was a shock to Conklin.
Pierce put his scalpel down and hog-tied Conklin to the cot with rope.
Pierce leaned in close to Simon Conklin once he was tied down and helpless. “Here’s a news flash-I don’t like your superior attitude. Believe me, you aren’t superior. Somehow, and this amazes me, I don’t think I’ve made myself clear yet. You’re a specimen, Simon. Let me show you something creepy.”
“Don’t!” Conklin screeched. He was helpless as Pierce made a sudden incision in the upper chest. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Simon Conklin screamed.
“Can you concentrate better now, Simon? See what’s on the table here? It’s your tape recorder. I just want you to confess. Tell me what happened inside Dr. Cross’s house. I want to hear everything.”
“Leave me alone,” Conklin whispered weakly.
“No! That’s not going to happen. You will never be alone again. All right, forget the scalpel and the tape recorder. I want you to focus on this. Ordinary can of Coca-Cola. Your Coke, Simon.”
He shook the bright red can, shook it up good, and popped it open. Then he pulled Conklin’s head back. Grabbed a handful of long, greasy hair. Pierce pushed the harmless-looking can under Conklin’s nostrils.
The soda exploded upward, fizz, bubbles, sugary-brown water. It shot up Conklin’s nose and toward the brain. It was an army interrogator’s trick. Excruciatingly painful, and it always worked.
Simon Conklin choked horribly. He couldn’t stop coughing, gagging.
“I hope you appreciate the kind of resourcefulness I’m showing. I can work with any household object. Are you ready to confess? Or would you like some more Coke?”
Simon Conklin’s eyes were wider than they had ever been before. “I’ll say whatever you want! Just please stop.”
Thomas Pierce shook his head back and forth. “I just want the truth. I want the facts. I want to know I solved the case that Alex Cross couldn’t.”
He turned on the tape recorder and held it under Conklin’s bearded chin. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was the one who attacked Cross and his family. Yes, yes, it was me,” Simon Conklin said in a choked voice that made each word sound even more emotional. “ Gary made me. He said if I didn’t, somebody would come for me. They’d torture and kill me. Somebody he knew from Lorton Prison. That’s the truth, I swear it is. Gary was the leader, not me!”
Thomas Pierce was suddenly almost tender, his voice soft and soothing. “I knew that, Simon. I’m not stupid. I knew that Gary made you do it. Now, when you got to the Cross house, you couldn’t kill him, could you? You’d fantasized about it, but then you couldn’t do it.”
Simon Conklin nodded. He was exhausted and frightened. He wondered if Gary had sent this madman and thought that maybe he had.
Pierce motioned with the Coke can for him to keep going. He took a hit of the Coke as he listened. “Go on, Simon. Tell me all about you and Gary.”
Conklin was crying, bawling like a child, but he was talking. “We got beat up a lot when we were kids. We were inseparable. I was there when Gary burned down his own house. His stepmother was inside with her two kids. So was his father. I watched over the two kids he kidnapped in D.C. I was the one at Cross’s house. You were right! It might as well have been Gary. He planned everything.”
Pierce finally took away the tape player and shut it off. “That’s much better, Simon. I do believe you.”
What Simon Conklin had just said seemed like a good break point-somewhere to end. The investigation was over. He’d proved he was better than Alex Cross.
“I’m going to tell you something. Something amazing, Simon. You’ll appreciate this, I think.”
He raised the scalpel and Simon Conklin tried to squirm away. He knew what was coming.
“Gary Soneji was a pussycat compared to me,” Thomas Pierce said. “I’m Mr. Smith.”
Chapter 108
SAMPSON AND I rushed through Princeton, breaking just about every speed limit. The agents trailing Thomas Pierce had temporarily lost him. The elusive Pierce, or was it Mr. Smith-was on the loose. They thought they had him again, at Simon Conklin’s. Everything was chaos.