The sight of the two grenades shouldn’t have shocked Marcus as much as it did, and he cursed himself for it. He had known that the police had found M67 fragmentation grenades in the killer’s basement, and he had even looked up their specifications. Schofield liked to plan ahead, but Marcus hadn’t expected the killer to try anything with his family on the line. But then again, he hadn’t considered the possibility of Schofield recognizing them as cops either. He considered that maybe his migraines and the lack of sleep were finally starting to take their toll on his thought processes and ability to reason.
Schofield said, “If you come any closer, I’ll drop one of these at your feet and throw the other out into the traffic on Columbus.”
Marcus slipped his gun back into its holster. “Let’s not do anything crazy. You don’t want to die here.” He took a step forward.
“Don’t move! I’ve considered all the variables! If there are other cops out there, I’ll use these to kill myself. If I drop one grenade, you could kick it away or run before the timer runs out and it explodes. But you wouldn’t be able to stop the one that’s going out onto the street. Odds are good that it would go off right underneath one of those cars. And if that doesn’t convince you to stay back, then I also have a backup plan.”
Schofield pointed at one of the large green sea-horse statues sitting inside the fountain, and a loud boom echoed over the park. A bullet ricocheted off the sea horse, sending up a puff of snow.
Marcus jerked instinctively at the sound, and Stupak nearly hit the deck. Normally, a hundred tourists and park-goers would have been running and screaming at that moment. But in the midst of the blizzard, Grant Park was as desolate as the moon, and the only other people around were the ones driving past inside their cars on Columbus and Lake Shore Drives. Marcus recognized the sound of a 7.62mm round, but most people would have dismissed it as a car backfiring.
“My grandfather Raymond. He’s a good shot,” Schofield said.
“Maybe on the range, but lining up a person in your sights is a whole different ball game.”
“That’s true. He actually wanted me to turn myself in, but when I explained that the kids’ lives were on the line, he agreed to do whatever it took. We’re pretty much the only family he has left, and he’d do anything to protect us.”
Marcus held up his ID, deciding to change tactics. “I’m not a cop. I’m from the Attorney General’s office. I have the authority to make you a deal. You give us Conlan and the women, and you can avoid prosecution.”
“Right, great idea. Then I’ll just walk away now and have my lawyer contact your office to draw up the papers. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“No, I think you’re scared. I think you’ve been scared your whole life. Scared of the Prophet, of your mother, of other people in general. But, most of all, you’re scared of yourself. You’re scared of what you’re capable of.”
“You don’t know me. We’re done here. Don’t try to follow me.”
Schofield took a step back, but Marcus matched the movement. He said, “I know more about you than you know yourself. I know that you think that you were born without a soul. I know the things that they told you as a child. The things that the Prophet did to you. I know about your friends up at the compound. About you sitting in the circle and watching them burn.”
Schofield moved back toward him and screamed, “You don’t know anything!”
With micro-glances, Marcus scanned the area. The park was full of places where a shooter could set up, but there was one that stood out. Less than a hundred yards over Schofield’s shoulder, there was a small green building topped by a metal roof with large awnings on all sides. A sign read Fountain Cafe. The place would have been shut down and empty during the winter, and it provided the perfect angle and a protected spot to shoot from.
“Really? I know who your father is. Do you?”
Schofield looked as if an angel had just descended from heaven and punched him in the gut. The look was equal parts awe and confusion. Schofield whispered, “You shut up.”
Marcus took another step forward. “Come on, Harrison. You’re a smart guy. You honestly didn’t believe that you were the product of some immaculate conception, did you? That Lucifer really crawled up from the pit and knocked up your mom? Come on. You’ve always had your suspicions.”
“You couldn’t possibly know.”
Marcus moved forward again. “I found your mother in the Will County Mental Health Center and paid her a visit. She broke down and told me the truth. Her dirty little secret.”
“You’re lying.”
Schofield held the grenades out in front of him like a barrier. His arms trembled, but Marcus didn’t think it was from the cold.
“You have a soul and a father just like everyone else, Schofield. And I think you know who it is. I think you’ve always known, but you’ve been too scared to admit it.”
“The Prophet is not my father!”
Marcus edged closer to the killer. “Your mother told me everything. How Conlan would bring her into his private quarters for a special lesson. I’m sure she wasn’t the only one. He was probably screwing every little girl in the compound. What was she, twelve? Thirteen? Did he take you in there for private lessons too?”
Schofield stepped forward and screamed, “Shut up!”
And then Marcus made his move.