Kennedy offered the printout to Hunter.
Hunter didn’t move.
‘Look at her, Robert.’
A few seconds went by before Hunter finally dragged his eyes away from the window and onto the sheet of paper Kennedy had in his hand. Attached to it was a second printout – a 6x4 portrait photograph of Madeleine Reed. She was a very attractive woman, with light and seemingly smooth skin, eyes that had a slightly oriental appearance and were green in color, and hair that dropped in a vibrant black sheen past her shoulders. The smile she had on when the photograph was taken looked pure and innocent. She looked happy.
‘The fact that Lucien might know where Madeleine Reed is being kept hasn’t changed, Robert,’ Kennedy said again. ‘You can’t walk away from this now. You can’t turn your back on her.’
Hunter studied the photograph for a while longer before returning the sheet to the director in silence.
Kennedy took the opportunity to press on. ‘I know you don’t work for me, Robert, so I can’t order you to do anything, but I do know you. I know your moral values. I know what you stand for and what you’ve dedicated your life to. And if you allow your emotions to dictate your actions now, no matter how hurt and angry you feel inside, you won’t be able to live with yourself later. You won’t be able to face yourself in the mirror. You know that full well.’
A headache was pinching and pricking behind Hunter’s eyes.
‘I’ve been searching for Jessica’s killers for twenty years, Adrian.’ Hunter’s voice was low and full of hurt. ‘Not a day has gone by since that I don’t regret not being there for her that night. Not a day has gone by since that I haven’t promised her and myself that I would find them, and when I did, I would make them pay, no matter the consequences to myself.’
‘I understand that,’ Kennedy said.
‘Do you?’ Hunter questioned. ‘Do you, really?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘She was pregnant,’ Hunter said.
The air was knocked out of Kennedy’s lungs. He looked back at Hunter with confusion on his face.
‘Jessica was pregnant,’ Hunter repeated it. ‘We had found out that morning, through one of those off-the-shelf pregnancy tests, but we both knew it was true. That was the reason for her booking the restaurant that night. We were supposed to be celebrating. We were both . . .’ Hunter paused to catch his breath: ‘. . . so happy.’
Taylor felt a paralyzing chill run through her. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what, or how.
‘Lucien didn’t only take the woman that I was supposed to marry from me, Adrian,’ Hunter said. ‘He took away the family I was supposed to have.’
Kennedy looked down at the floor in solemn silence. His way of paying his respects and recognizing Hunter’s pain.
‘I’m sorry, Robert,’ Kennedy finally said. ‘I never knew that.’
‘No one did,’ Hunter replied. ‘Not even her family. We wanted to wait until Jess had seen the doctor so we had official confirmation.’ Hunter’s gaze returned to the window. ‘I asked the coroner to omit it from the autopsy report. That was not the way I wanted her parents to find out, and I saw no point in adding to their pain.’
‘I can only imagine your pain, your anger, and how devastating that must’ve been for you, Robert,’ Kennedy said after a long and dark silence. ‘And I am so sorry.’
‘And nevertheless you still want to put me inside an enclosed space with the person who I’ve been searching for for twenty years and swore revenge on, without the security of the Plexiglas wall between us.’
‘He’s been caught, Robert,’ Kennedy said back, in a measured voice. ‘Lucien is sitting in an underground, escape-proof prison cell five levels below the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit. He is going to pay for everything he’s done. He’s going to pay for what he did to Jessica and to you.’ He pointed to the printout. ‘But this girl may die if you don’t get in that plane with Lucien. I know you don’t want to let that happen.’
‘You can send someone else.’
‘No we can’t, Robert,’ Taylor, who was standing by Kennedy’s desk, said, turning to face him. ‘You heard what Lucien said downstairs. You and me and him. Not a person less, not a person more. We break that deal, and if Madeleine isn’t already dead, she will die – alone – probably until the last second still holding on to some hope that someone will find her. We owe this to her, Robert.’
Hunter said nothing.
‘Courtney is right, Robert,’ Kennedy said. ‘If Madeleine isn’t already dead, we’re losing precious time here. We’ve got to act now. Please don’t let your anger and sorrow take away Madeleine’s chances of being saved. Her only chance of being saved.’
Hunter looked at Madeleine’s photograph attached to the printout once again.
‘She’s not dead,’ he said, not an ounce of doubt in his voice.
‘What?’ Kennedy asked.
‘You said, “If Madeleine isn’t already dead”.’ Hunter shook his head. ‘Madeleine Reed isn’t dead. She’s still alive.’
Eighty
The unwavering conviction in Hunter’s voice was reassuring and confusing in equal measure.
Taylor’s question came not from words, but from a slight shake of the head complemented by narrowing eyes.
‘She’s alive,’ Hunter told them again with a firm nod.
‘How can you be so sure?’ Doctor Lambert asked. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Detective Hunter. I do agree with Director Kennedy. I believe you must act now, but you must also be prepared for the fact that you could already be too late to save this poor girl’s life, or even for the fact that Lucien could be sending you on a wild goose chase. He’s a deceiver by nature, with years of experience. As Agent Taylor said during your last interview, Lucien might be looking at this as his last chance outside, which gives him a better chance at trying something than if he’s sitting in a cell five levels underground.’
‘That could be,’ Hunter replied. ‘But Madeleine is still alive.’
‘So I’ll repeat Doctor Lambert’s question,’ Kennedy took over. ‘How can you be so sure, Robert?’
‘Because Madeleine Reed is Lucien’s trump card,’ Hunter said. ‘He’s been holding on to it from day one. When did you first bring him here to the BSU?’
‘Seven days ago,’ Kennedy answered. ‘You know that.’
‘And yet he hasn’t mentioned her until now,’ Hunter reminded them. ‘As Doctor Lambert said, Lucien’s got a lot of experience. He’s been playing this game for a very long time. Even though he was caught by chance, every move he makes is calculated to the last detail. And an experienced player knows one major rule about trump cards.’
‘Never play them too soon,’ Taylor said. ‘You hold on to them until the best possible moment.’
Hunter nodded. ‘Or until it’s imperative that you do. You’ve all mentioned how impressive Lucien’s internal clock and calculations are, right? He knows exactly how much food and water he’s left Madeleine. He’s already said that she’d learned how to ration everything almost to perfection. He’s calculated the threshold. He’s known it from day one, and I’m sure he’s got a very accurate idea of where the point of no return is. And yet he saw no reason in playing his trump card until now. And that reason is – he wants to make this a race against time, because that puts us under tremendous pressure. A hell of a lot more pressure than just finding victims’ remains.’
Everyone breathed in Hunter’s words for a second.
‘And that’s also why he waited until now to reveal that he was your fiancée’s killer,’ Doctor Lambert said, ‘because that not only puts you under extreme pressure, but it also affects your state of mind. It destabilizes you. It makes you emotional, and therefore more vulnerable, more prone to mistakes. Lucien knew that fully well.’