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“Okay. I get it,” Locke said, returning some of Drex’s ire. “But you’ve been trying for years. We’ve been at it for two days. Any ideas?”
Drex yielded to the detective’s frustration. It matched his own. “No.”
Pushing away from the table, he walked through the living area to the far side of it and shoved open the panels of drapery. Outside, it continued to drizzle. For days now the skies had refused to clear. However, if it were sunny, Drex would resent it. The dreariness befitted the circumstances.
Behind him, Talia explained to the detectives the situation Mike was in. I
n cop-speak they answered her questions about the investigation into Sara Barker’s murder.
Drex listened to the conversation with one ear, latching onto key words, but tuning out the minutiae. Most of it was irrelevant, anyway. They weren’t going to apprehend Jasper using textbook police procedure.
In order to catch him, one couldn’t think like a cop. One had to think like him.
He asked himself if he were Jasper, if he were in Jasper’s situation, what would he do? What ploy would he use? A switchback? A prank? An irony? What would be the ultimate joke?
In a blinding instant, he had an inspiration.
He returned to the table, got on Locke’s laptop, pulled up the freeze-frame, and was immediately annoyed by its limitations. “Is the rest of the video on here?”
The question caught Locke in mid-sentence. He fell silent and looked at Drex, who continued with impatience, “The minutes leading up to and right after Gif was attacked. Are they on this laptop?”
“No. The video was jerky. Hard to tell up from down, so I just downloaded that freeze-frame. The whole of it is back at the department.”
“I need to see it. Right now. Have someone email it.”
Neither detective moved, their reluctance evident.
“What?” Drex said. “Earlier you offered to email it to me yourself.”
“That was before this.” Locke flicked his hand at the arrest warrant. “We could get into real Dutch by sending you evidence now.”
“Okay, then sneak me into the department. Let me watch it there.”
“Sneak you in? We’re supposed to be delivering you to Rudkowski. If we don’t, we’re sunk.”
“I get it, guys. But, God, this timing sucks.” He socked his palm with the other fist. “Jasper is escalating. Rudkowski is wound up like a top. Incredible. I have two enemies, and they want the same thing, which is to shut me down.”
“Discredited and humiliated,” Talia said, repeating the words he’d spoken minutes ago.
But hearing them now stopped him in his tracks. Slowly, softly, he said, “They want the same thing. They want me bested.”
A plan began to take shape. He grabbed hold of it before it could evaporate. Even as it formed and became clearer, he began appealing to the detectives. “Sneak me into the police department. Let me watch the video before my showdown with Rudkowski.”
“What do you expect to see on it?” Menundez asked.
“You were looking for somebody who was moving through the crowd in a hurry. Maybe we should watch for someone who wasn’t in such a hurry.” That didn’t seem consequential enough to convince them, but that was all Drex was willing to tell them at this point.
“Let me watch the video, then no more favors, I swear. Please.” He looked at his watch. “But decide. I need the face-off with Rudkowski to happen soon. Before he does something stupid.”
“Like put you in jail,” Locke said. “As soon as he sees you, that’s what he’ll do.”
“Then it’s up to me to convince him otherwise.” He split a look between the two. “Cuff me if you want, just let me see the video. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” Menundez said.
And simultaneously Locke said, “No.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Drex pleaded.
