Kill Plan (Ingrid Skyberg FBI Thrillers -) (28 page)

The sweat from Ingrid’s forehead was sliding into her eyes. She didn’t dare blink.

“Drop your weapon.”

“Isn’t that getting a little tired?”

“This is your last warning.”

He laughed at her and took a deep breath, his shoulders almost shrugging up to his ears. Then he exhaled and his whole body seemed to go limp.

A second later he launched forward, hurling himself toward her.

Ingrid squeezed the trigger. She saw the effect of the bullet before she heard the deafening crack. Ellis jerked backward, but didn’t fall. A long moment passed. The screwdriver slipped from his hand. Then he came at her again.

She fired.

He stalled. Dropped to his knees. Pitched forward. He landed just a couple of feet from her. Blood started oozing onto the floor beneath him. His arms and legs twitched.

Ingrid turned back toward the door and searched for the panic button, her eyes still misted with sweat. She located the big red plunger switch and thumped her fist against it.

A piercing wail erupted from loudspeakers in the corridor outside. Ingrid skirted around Ellis’ twitching body and kneeled next to Sol. She kept her gun trained on Ellis’ back.

But Cory Ellis wasn’t going anywhere.

And neither was Sol.

45

Three days later

Marshall opened the door, but refused to look at Ingrid as she entered the room. He was still pissed at her for being right. The way things were between them at the moment, it seemed he might never be able to forgive her. The fact that she’d broken off their engagement the night before seemed much less important to him than what he perceived as her attack on his professional capabilities.

She couldn’t worry about Marshall’s feelings. She was right and he was wrong. They both needed to move on.

Right now she had to stay focused. She was about to conduct the most important suspect interview of her career.

She stood at the viewing window and stared at Cory Ellis. He was staring right back at her. Beneath his tee shirt, his entire right side, all the way from his shoulder to his hip, was covered in strapping and bandage. Even though Ingrid hadn’t been on a shooting range for over six weeks, her aim had still been accurate enough to miss the major arteries and his heart and lungs. His shoulder blade would need a lot of reconstructive surgery. But that wasn’t her problem. She’d been determined he wouldn’t use her the same way his father had used the prison guard. Suicide by cop was never going to be an option.

“I could have gotten him to talk. I just needed a little more time,” Marshall said.

He’d been telling her that for the last two days. But the chief had lost patience and given in to Ellis’ demands: he was pleading the fifth unless Ingrid interviewed him herself.

The door to the observation room opened and the deputy chief of the FBI mission, Amy Louden, came in. She nodded to Ingrid and Marshall, settled herself in a chair, and stared toward the prisoner.

“They’re always much smaller than you think they’re going to be,” Louden said, turning to Ingrid.

“Ma’am?” Ingrid glanced at Ellis, who was grinning toward the glass now.

“In my experience, at any rate.” Louden raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Shall we get this started? I have a feeling it may take some time. Remind me—what’s the current estimated death toll?”

Ingrid opened her mouth to speak, but Marshall beat her to it.

“We’ve identified at least five people connected to the imprisonment of Ellis’ father who have died either in unexplained accidents or unsolved homicides,” he said.

“Are we expecting to add to that list?”

“At the moment we’d like to get confirmation he’s responsible for those killings. He might volunteer further information in the course of questioning.”

“And the killings here in London?”

“As far as we know, in addition to the City trader, there were two fatalities outside of embassy property—the Latvian woman and the realtor. We’re not pursuing those as a priority. We’ll liaise with our London colleagues, of course.” Marshall glanced at Ellis. “But there’s no way we’re handing him over. He’s coming back to the US to face trial.”

Louden had tilted her head impatiently. Ingrid winced a little inside. Marshall was stating the goddamn obvious. The deputy chief turned away and leaned her elbows on the table in front of her. “When you’re ready, agent.”

Ingrid did her best to cover the discreet earpiece wedged into her left ear with her hair. But it wasn’t really long enough to do the job. She stepped out into the corridor and took a deep breath. She hadn’t interviewed a suspect on her own for nearly a year. She wanted to ensure Ellis wouldn’t pick up on any potential weakness in her technique. If she went into that room presenting anything other than supreme confidence, he’d be able to detect it in a heartbeat. She straightened her collar, tugged at the bottom of her jacket and opened the door.

Striding into the room, she stared into Ellis’ face and didn’t take her eyes off him as she lowered herself onto the plastic and metal chair opposite his, determined not to be the one to blink first.

After a few seconds Ellis smiled at her. “OK—you win.” He dropped his gaze toward the single handcuff tethering his one functioning hand to the table. “Where would you like to start, Ingrid?”

“How about the beginning?”

“Why be so conventional? Why don’t I talk to you about the assistant deputy chief, huh? Wouldn’t you like to hear how he pleaded with me to spare his life? Or maybe I should tell you all about how he and his fellow agents harassed my family for months before my father’s arrest?”

“Was that when you decided you’d kill him? All those years ago? Most teenagers would have been dating girls and hanging out at the mall.”

“Most teenagers weren’t hounded out of high school.”

“What is this? Am I meant to feel sorry for you?”

“Not as sorry as I feel for you.”

Ingrid maintained a neutral expression.

“I mean,” he continued, “it can’t be easy for you carrying all that pain around. There’s no escaping it, is there?”

“I think you may be mistaking me for somebody else.”

“Not at all. I can see the suffering in your eyes.”

“Don’t let this slip out of your control,” Marshall murmured into her earpiece.

She thought about removing the device from her ear. A running commentary from Marshall wasn’t going to help anyone.

“How naive do you think I am, Ellis? I know what you’re trying to do. This isn’t
Silence of the Lambs
, we’re not playing a game of quid pro quo. Either you’re going to tell me what you’ve done, or you’re not. It doesn’t really matter to me one way or the other.” She relaxed back into her chair. “We have enough forensic evidence to convict you of at least two murders. Your DNA has been detected on the clothes of Isaac Coleman. Plus there’s all the evidence found at the restaurant in Savannah. Two murders is more than enough to put you away.”

Ellis tilted back his head and yanked at the metal cuff. “You can’t deny it. Something happened to you When you were a child maybe. Or a teenager, like me. You must have lost someone like I did. I can see it in your eyes.”

She studied his face. There was no expression there to read. Ellis was on a fishing expedition. Everyone had pain some place in their past. If he thought he could unnerve her with a carnival fortune teller’s trick, he was sorely mistaken.

“Stay focused, agent,” Marshall said in an urgent whisper.

Ingrid supposed he was putting on a show for the deputy chief. She wished he would shut the hell up.

“What I’d be interested in knowing,” Ingrid said, leaning forward a little, “is why it took you so long to do anything. I mean, your dad was shot dead in 1992, and yet you waited a whole
decade
before you acted.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed and bulged. It was the first real sign she was having some impact.

“Oh wait, maybe it took your
mother’s
suicide for you to finally grow a pair, huh? Two parents who chose to end their lives. That’s got to make you feel pretty unloved and abandoned, I guess.”

Ellis blinked slowly at her but said nothing.

“Nice of your mom to end it all on the anniversary of your dad’s death. I guess she was just thinking of you. You’d only have one day in the year to truly dread.”

He licked his lips.

“Even then, you still waited to make your move. It couldn’t have taken you that long to track down the prison guard. But then I guess it was a big step—your first kill. Must have taken you months to summon the… I was going to say courage… but there’s nothing brave about shooting an unarmed man in the face at point blank range.”

“You know nothing about it.”

“But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? For you to enlighten me.” She pulled the miniature speaker from her ear and laid it on the table. “You have my undivided attention.”

Ellis stared into her face, searching. Ingrid stared right back at him.

“No,” he said emphatically. He blew out a breath. “I’ve changed my mind. You don’t get to know. I won’t give you the satisfaction. I’m not telling you anything.” He stared toward the mirror set into the wall. “This interview is terminated.”

46

Frustrated as hell, Ingrid scooped up the earpiece and marched out the room. She threw open the door into the observation room.

“That went well,” Marshall said. “Maybe the combative approach wasn’t the right one after all.” He was clearly trying to embarrass her in front of the deputy chief.

She ignored him. “I’m certain he’ll come around, ma’am.”

Louden raised her eyebrows.

“If we leave him to stew a while, the need to boast about his achievements will overwhelm him. He’ll be begging to speak to me again.”

“How long are we going to let Ellis dictate the timetable?” Marshall said, his face and the tips of his ears reddening. “Maybe someone else should have a crack at him.”

Deputy Chief Louden tensed as he raised his voice. “The BAU guys have profiled him. I assume you’ve read their report?”

Both Ingrid and Marshall nodded back at her. Ingrid had been surprised and hesitantly self-satisfied that their profile matched the one she’d compiled almost point for point.

Louden turned to face Marshall. “So I suppose you know Agent Skyberg’s approach is the one they’ve recommended?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Marshall was balling his fists and breathing fast. Ingrid knew that if he didn’t shout at someone or punch a wall soon, he risked exploding.

“He still hasn’t requested a lawyer,” Louden said. “Ensure someone asks him if he’s still happy with that situation.”

“I get the feeling he wants a one on one… a gladiatorial contest.” Ingrid regretted making the interview sound like a boxing match as soon as the words left her mouth.

“I think you’re absolutely right,” Louden said. “Are you happy to continue to be his opponent?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.”

“Let’s hope he decides to start talking again soon.” With that Louden left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Marshall turned to Ingrid. “Are you trying to sabotage my career?”

Ingrid started to move toward the door. Marshall blocked her path.

“Come on, Marsh, let’s not get things out of proportion.”

“You can call me SSA Claybourne while we’re in a work environment.”

The way he was acting, Ingrid sure as hell didn’t want to be in any other kind of environment with him. She was waiting for him to relieve his pent up frustration by shouting at her. “About last night… we didn’t really finish the conversation—”

“I am
not
discussing that matter here. Besides, there’s nothing more to discuss.”

“I never intended to hurt you. I just couldn’t let things go on—”

“Shut. Up.” He turned and flung open the door. Ingrid watched him stride down the corridor.

She felt relieved that the termination of their fourteen month engagement had gotten to him a little. She also felt a little sorry for him. He disappeared around the corner and she let out a long breath and sucked in another. Right now she had more important matters to focus on. She returned to her desk and reread the case files.

Less than ninety minutes later, Ellis told the Marine guarding him that he wanted to speak to Agent Skyberg again. Louden, Marshall and Ingrid reconvened in the observation room ten minutes after that.

“You’re confident you can handle this?” Louden asked.

“One hundred per cent.” Ingrid tried to make her tone convincing. Everything depended on whether Ellis had truly decided to cooperate. If he had, Ingrid supposed she wouldn’t be much more than an over-qualified note taker. But if he still wanted to play games, there wasn’t much she could do to stop him.

She entered the interview room without the earpiece she’d been wearing earlier. Ellis had made it a condition of their meeting. Which was fine by Ingrid. She was relieved to be free of Marshall’s unhelpful interjections.

She sat down slowly and rested her hands in her lap, keeping her upper body as relaxed as she could. All her tension had transferred to her thighs, which had started to twitch. Thankfully they weren’t visible beneath the table.

“I guess you’re wondering why I changed my mind and decided to talk to you?” he said.

“I’m not, but feel free to enlighten me.”

“A sense of completion. I’ve achieved everything I set out to. I think that deserves a little celebration.”

“I left the balloons and party poppers at home.”

“We can make our own fun.”

Ingrid’s legs twitched a little harder under the desk. She wanted to get this over with. Fun and games Cory Ellis style she could do without.

“Where shall we start?”

“Why not be conventional and choose the beginning?”

“Way back then?”

“I don’t mean the first kill. When did you decide there would be any kills at all? Was it after your mom committed suicide?”

Ellis tilted his head sideways and stared hard into her face. The muscles in his cheeks flexed. Any mention of his mother seemed to hit a nerve. “There wasn’t a specific tipping point. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that these things fester and ferment over time. Must have been the same for you, with the loss you suffered.”