WHEN I RECEIVED PERMISSION TO INTERVIEW ETHAN AND ZOE, IT CAME from the same place as my last invitation to the White House—straight out of the East Wing. It had been a week since the rescue, and the media circus was going full tilt. I’d never seen so many reporters outside the White House, and that’s saying a lot, for Washington.
Security on the other side of the fence was something else again. It took forty-five minutes for Mrs. Coyle’s deputy to get me from the East Visitors Gate up to the residence.
When we reached the second floor hall, Mrs. Coyle was there to greet me herself. She came right up and took both of my hands.
“It’s good to see you, Alex,” she said. “I’m not even sure how to say what I’m feeling. There are no words.”
“Thank you for having me” was all I said. Getting this interview had been no easy thing. I don’t imagine anyone but the First Lady could have gotten me here.
She walked me up the hall in the opposite direction as the last time, while two Secret Service agents followed at a respectful distance.
“Zoe will probably be a little reticent,” she told me, “but Ethan’s actually been eager to talk about the kidnapping. I’ve gone over everything with them, and with their care team. You can ask what you need to.”
We passed the famous Yellow Oval Room and came to a large, sunny den, with a view of the South Lawn. Ethan and Zoe were sharing one of the couches, watching Despicable Me on a huge wall-mounted TV. I recognized the president’s mother, knitting by the window. She smiled and nodded but didn’t get up.
“Ethan? Zoe?” Mrs. Coyle said. “Can you turn that off, please? This is the detective I told you about. This is Alex Cross.”