Double Cross

Chapter 26

IT WAS TIME for the second story to unfold.

Nine hundred fifty-five brave souls were filing toward and into their plush seats at the Kennedy Center that night. The Grand Foyer was lit by eighteen one-ton crystal chandeliers that resembled… what? Giant stalactites? The foyer was huge, more than six hundred feet in length. At its center was an eight-foot bronze bust of the great Kennedy himself, never more august and serious in his life.

A crew of thirty-seven worked behind the scenes here. Impressive. Expensive too.

A cast of no fewer than seventeen trod the boards.

And one lone figure waited, quietly, underneath the stage.

Dr. Xander Swift.

At three o’clock that afternoon, he’d come in through the stage door. A large toolbox in hand and a few rehearsed phrases about the boiler were all it took. Inside the toolbox were his props.

Pistol.

Ice pick, just in case.

Butane torch.

Supply of ethanol.

Now it was more than five hours later and almost time for the main act. Above his head, the play was in progress. The house was full, theater lovers one and all, drama and suspense fans.

Matthew Jay Walker was well into a scene in which he talked somewhat robotically with another character on a monitor. Walker was excessively handsome, of course, a little shorter than expected, and quite the spoiled brat, if truth be known. His agent had made demands for fresh exotic fruit, a supply of Evian water, a personal makeup artist. Now it was time for Walker to meet his costar.

“Hello, Matthew Jay! Greetings,” said Dr. Swift. “I’m here… behind you.”

The actor looked around, surprised-no, shocked-when the trapdoor in the stage floor, normally used only in the second act, flew open.

“What th -”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so sorry for the interruption,” said Dr. Xander Swift in a loud, clear, commanding voice that could be heard way up in the cheap seats. “But please, may I have your attention, your full attention, your undivided attention? This is a matter of life and death.”