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Shafer finally smiled. You re very sure of yourself, aren t you? You don t
back down. I admire that, to a degree. I played the game of being a hero once
myself. In the army. It s interesting for a while.
But it s much more interesting to be a raving lunatic murderer, I said.
See? You just don t back down from your pig-headed opinions. I love
it. You re wonderful.
It s not opinion, Shafer. You know it, and so do I.
Then prove it, Cross. Win your pitiful sodding case, will you? Beat me fair
and square in a court of law. I even gave you home advantage.
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I started to walk toward him; I couldn t help myself. He stood his ground.
This is all an insane game to you. I ve met assholes like you before,
Shafer. I ve beaten better. I ll beat you.
He laughed in my face. I sincerely doubt it.
I walked right past him in the narrow tunnel.
He pushed me - hard, from behind. He was a big man, but even stronger than he
looked.
I stumbled, almost went over onto the stone floor. I wasn t expecting the
outburst of anger from him. He held it in so well in court, but it was close
to the surface. The madness that was Geoffrey Shafer. The violence.
Then go ahead, beat me. See if you can, he yelled at the top of his
voice. Beat me right here, right now. I don t think you can, Cross. I know
you can t.
Shafer took a quick step toward me. He was agile and athletic, not just
strong. We were almost the same size, six foot two or three, two hundred
pounds. I remembered that he d been an army officer, then MI6. He still looked
in excellent shape.
Shafer pushed me again with both hands. He made a loud grunting noise. If
you ve beaten better, then I should be a pushover. Isn t that so? I m just a
pushover.
I almost threw a punch; I wanted to. I ached to take him down, to wipe the
smug, superior look off his face.
Instead, I grabbed him hard. I slammed Shafer up against the stone tunnel
wall and held him there.
Not now. Not here, I said, in a hoarse, raw whisper. I m not going to hit
you, Shafer. What? Have you run to the newspapers and TV. But I am going to
bring you down. Soon.
He came out with a crazy laugh. You are fucking hilarious, do you know
that? You re a scream. I love it.
I walked away from Shafer in the dark tunnel. It was the hardest thing I ve
ever had to do. I wanted to beat the answers out of him, get a confession. I
wanted to know about Christine. I had so many questions, but I knew he
wouldn t answer them. He was here to bait me, to play.
You re losing ... everything, he said to my back.
I think I could have killed Geoffrey Shafer on the spot.
I almost turned, but I didn t. I opened the creaking door and went outside
instead. Sunlight streamed into my eyes, half-blinding me for a dizzying
moment. Shading my face with an arm, I climbed stone stairs to the parking
area, where I got another unwanted surprise.
A dozen grim-faced members of the press, including some important reporters,
were gathered in the back parking lot. Someone had alerted them; someone had
tipped them off that I was coming out this way.
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I looked back at the gray metal door, but Geoffrey Shafer didn t come out
behind me. He had retreated and disappeared back into the basement.
Detective Cross. I heard a reporter call my name. You re losing this
case. You know that, don t you?
Yes, I knew. I was losing everything. I just didn t know what I could do to
stop it.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
The following day was taken up with my cross-examination by Catherine
Fitzgibbon. Catherine did a good job of redressing some of the harm done by
Jules Halpern, but not all of it. Halpern consistently broke up her rhythm
with his objections. Like so many recent high-profile trials, this one was
maddening. It should have been easy to convict and put away Geoffrey Shafer,
but that wasn t the case.
Two days later, we got our best chance to win, and Shafer himself gave it to
us, almost as if he was daring us. Now we realized that he was even crazier
than we d thought. The game was his life; nothing else seemed to matter.
Shafer agreed to take the stand. I think that I was the only one in the
courtroom who wasn t completely surprised that he was testifying, that he was
playing the game right in front of us.
Catherine Fitzgibbon was almost certain that Jules Halpern had lectured,
pleaded and advised him against it; but there Shafer was anyway, striding
toward the witness stand, looking as if he had been called up there to be
ceremoniously knighted by the Queen.
He couldn t resist the stage, could he? He looked every bit as confident and
in control as he had the night I arrested him for Patsy Hampton s murder. He
was dressed in a navy-blue double-breasted suit, white shirt, and gold
tie. Not a single blond hair was out of place, nor was there any hint of the
anger boiling just under the surface of his meticulously groomed exterior.
Jules Halpern addressed him in conversational tones, but I was certain that
he was uneasy about this unnecessary gamble.
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