Authors: Duane Swierczynski,Anthony E. Zuiker
Dark Revelations (17 page)
Labyrinth tells her,
Let’s go talk to your boss.
chapter 29
A
lain Pantin was known for being good with reporters. Trey had given him a set of tips that had served him well since his first campaign: Answer only what you want, no matter the question. Make sure you insert your viewpoint at least three times, no matter the question. Smile, no matter the question.
lain Pantin was known for being good with reporters. Trey had given him a set of tips that had served him well since his first campaign: Answer only what you want, no matter the question. Make sure you insert your viewpoint at least three times, no matter the question. Smile, no matter the question.
With the Labyrinth case, a slightly different strategy was necessary: Say something a little shocking . . . then insert your viewpoint.
Trey contacted (anonymously, of course) an American reporter named Johnny Knack and hinted that some influential European politicians had a surprising take on the case. Knack had asked for a name; Trey quietly mentioned Alain Pantin.
Pantin had been briefed on Knack’s background—the reporter had been involved in a case involving a pair of serial killers, and was currently writing a book about it. So it was important to appear to be anti-Labyrinth, of course, while at the same time changing the focus to the man’s message.
Pantin thought he did a good job.
That is, until he read the story.
[To enter the Labyrinth, please go to
Level26.com
and enter the code: politics]
Level26.com
and enter the code: politics]
Alain Pantin, European Parliament Member, says,
“Labyrinth has the right idea.”
Alain Pantin, a young rising star in the European Parliament, says that the postal-happy international killer/terrorist calling himself “Labyrinth” has the right idea.
Well, not in so many words. But you get the idea that he’s not spilling any tears over the death of Charles Murtha.
“America can’t treat the rest of the world like its personal sandbox,” said Pantin, known in Brussels for his tireless work ethic—as well as his provocative statements. “Sooner or later, you’re going to piss off the wrong person.”
Pantin tried to qualify his statements, of course, by expressing sadness at the death of Murtha. “No one deserves to die like that—not the greatest or the least of us,” he said. “I prefer to think we can work things out with peaceful discussion. But this individual, whoever he is, seems to think we’ve exhausted peace options. And I can’t disagree with him in the current climate.”
Last year Pantin applauded the release of classified intelligence documents, even going so far as to donate money to hosting Websites and offering whistleblowers safe haven.
But an international leader lending support to a cop-killer?
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Knack destroyed me.”
“No,” Trey said, “he did his job. In exactly the way I thought he would.”
“You’ll need to explain that to me. Because last I checked, my in-box was flooded with outraged people calling for my resignation.”
“They can outrage all they want. You’ve just earned yourself a reputation as an independent thinker, a man not afraid to express the opinions on the outliers of the conversation. Forget what’s being written about in the mainstream press. Look at the reactions from ordinary citizens, all around the world.”
Pantin knew what he was talking about. The Labyrinth case, it seemed, had sparked parallel global conversations. On the surface, it was all about condemning his acts of terrorism and calling for his immediate capture. There was the usual hand-wringing and sensationalist TV news pieces that followed in the wake of killers like Zodiac, the Unabomber, and even Sqweegel.
But beneath that conversation was another—a bigger, secret groundswell of support. You saw it on the Twitter feeds and Facebook status updates and YouTube comments on the alleged “Labyrinth” videos.
They liked what Labyrinth was doing.
Who
he targeted, and
why
.
he targeted, and
why
.
He was providing secret-wish fulfillment for the thousands—probably millions—of people who weren’t in positions of power, who didn’t have the opportunity to speak into a microphone, who didn’t have a platform.
“In other words,” Pantin said, “you’re saying I’m the first to speak aloud what everyone else is thinking.”
“I knew you’d come around to it. And the support you’re about to receive is going to be huge. People will remember your name, and pay attention to what you’re saying. Even if they don’t admit to it at first.”
Trey’s genius was that he could show you the way while convincing you that you would have found it on your own, given the right nudge.
“So what should I do next?”
“Take every interview request you can, condemn the killer but stress the importance of giving voice to his grievances.”
“And?”
“Pay attention to South Africa, because I believe our friend is about to surprise us again.”
chapter 30
DARK
A
fter Blair left, a team of guards escorted O’Brian and Roeding back to the jet. Natasha set up shop at the workstation—coffee, Turkish cigarettes, mint pastilles to mask the smoke-tinged breath—and began to download the files from the South African police. Everyone so, so busy. Meanwhile, Dark strode off to his quarters. “These will be ready in just a moment,” Natasha called after him, but Dark seemed to ignore her. In turn, Natasha ignored him and kept at it, popping a mint pastille every minute or so. When Dark returned to the workstation he was wearing a leather jacket—something he’d ordered, just to see if Blair was true to his word. Blair had not been kidding. The tailored jacket had arrived within the hour.
fter Blair left, a team of guards escorted O’Brian and Roeding back to the jet. Natasha set up shop at the workstation—coffee, Turkish cigarettes, mint pastilles to mask the smoke-tinged breath—and began to download the files from the South African police. Everyone so, so busy. Meanwhile, Dark strode off to his quarters. “These will be ready in just a moment,” Natasha called after him, but Dark seemed to ignore her. In turn, Natasha ignored him and kept at it, popping a mint pastille every minute or so. When Dark returned to the workstation he was wearing a leather jacket—something he’d ordered, just to see if Blair was true to his word. Blair had not been kidding. The tailored jacket had arrived within the hour.
“Are you cold?” Natasha asked.
“Not particularly,” Dark said.
“Come here and take a look at these scans of the school primer,” Natasha said. “The detail and print quality is amazing for a hundred-year-old book. . . .”
“That’s fantastic. Really, top-shelf work. Keep me posted,” Dark said before turning to leave the room.
“Wait—where are you going?”
“To stop Labyrinth.”
Natasha stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing here?”
“I have a feeling I know where he’s going to strike next,” Dark said.
“Yes. Johannesburg. We all know that.”
“No. I mean after this one. He’s got the next threat planned out already—you know that, right? He’s methodical. He’s been working on this for years.”
“I believe you,” Natasha said flatly. “He’s got something lined up after Johannesburg, no doubt about it. So where would that be?”
“I’ll let you know when I have him in custody.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“You can join me, if you like. I’ll buy another ticket on our way to the airport.”
“That isn’t how it works,” Natasha said. “You’re not a lone wolf anymore. You’re part of a team. If you leave without Blair’s approval, you’re gone.”
Dark said, “And that would totally ruin my day.”
While Blair’s resources were impressive, Dark knew that money or planes or a strike team weren’t going to catch this monster. Dark needed to do it the way he’d always done: by tuning in to the freak’s wavelength and following his gut. If he had to run every instinct or decision past Damien Blair, then he might as well be back at Special Circs, under the fat thumb of Norman Wycoff. The team didn’t matter. For Dark, it was all about catching Labyrinth. Blair could scold him later.
“So where do you think he’s going to be?” Natasha asked.
“Look, it’s kind of a crazy hunch, but it’s feeling right, the more I turn it over in my head.”
“Are you going to make me guess, or tell me?”
“New York City.”
“Why do you think he’s going back to America?”
“Because of the riddles. I have a feeling they don’t simply point to the current threat—he’s including a little preview of the next one, too. Remember the first riddle? About a photographer, hanging her husband out to dry? That referred to the actress and her producer, but it was a nod to the oil executive, too. A husband, one Charles Murtha, literally hung out to dry.”
“It’s a stretch,” Natasha said. “What about the second riddle?”
I CAN RUN, BUT NEVER WALK,
OFTEN A MURMUR, NEVER TALK,
I HAVE A BED BUT NEVER SLEEP,
I HAVE A MOUTH BUT NEVER EAT.
WHAT AM I?
“The literal answer?” Dark asked. “A river. But I think it’s also referring to the victim. Someone who also fits that description. Maybe even a flip side of it. Someone who deserves to be punished for talking too much. Or eating too much. Or maybe falling asleep at the wheel. I have a feeling it’s someone prominent. So far Labyrinth has targeted celebrities and symbols of particular industries.”
“Did you share this stroke of genius with Roeding or O’Brian?”
“You can tell them on the way to the airport,” Dark said. “Though I’m not sure it’ll do any good. I meant what I told Blair. He’s toying with us, giving us just enough time to jump through his little fucking hoops and . . . oops, sorry, play again. The only way to beat this motherfucker is to jump ahead of him.”
“You may be right. So how do you get New York from the third riddle?”
I’M THE PART OF THE BIRD THAT’S NOT IN THE SKY.
I CAN SWIM IN THE OCEAN AND YET REMAIN DRY.
WHAT AM I?
“I’ll tell you if I’m right,” Dark said.
Natasha, after a moment’s hesitation, snapped shut the laptop, wrapped the power cord around its body, and followed Dark outside to a private car already waiting.
“If you’re wrong, I’ll put a bullet in you myself,” Natasha said as the car raced to the airport.
TRANSCRIPT: THE JANE TALBOT SHOW
TALBOTHello, my friends. If you don’t see the familiar Jane Talbot Show set, don’t worry—it’s not your cable signal. [Smiles] I’m joining you from a remote studio location, a location known only to me, for reasons that will be clear in just a few moments. As you know, for many years, individuals accused of crimes have appeared on my show to surrender in person. They’ve feared mistreatment from the police, and often with good reason. Well, today we have another individual accused of the most serious crime imaginable—not here in Johannesburg, but as far away as Los Angeles in America and Dubai in the Middle East.
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