‘The FBI has certain secret procedures that will only come into action if a code word is spoken, or a code number is keyed in, or something along those lines, right?’

Kennedy nodded and paused for a second. ‘You’re saying that Lucien had a dormant procedure in place? A preplanned strategy in case he was captured?’

Hunter agreed with a head gesture. ‘I’m sure he did. There’s a reason why Lucien has managed to torture and kill so many people for so many years without anyone suspecting a damn thing, Adrian, even people close to him. And that reason is: he’s too well prepared. He’s methodical, meticulous, disciplined and he’s very well organized. What happened in here was planned a long time ago.’

While he pondered over Hunter’s words, Kennedy let his eyes circle the room once again. They paused on the pool of blood by the door that led into the corridor – Agent Taylor’s blood. Sadness and anger collided inside his eyes.

‘I’m sure that Lucien had told the truth about having left Madeleine with enough food and water to last her just a few days,’ Hunter carried on. ‘But a simple code word or signal would’ve gotten this whole plan in motion. If he weren’t already here, Ghost would’ve made the trip from wherever he was to keep her from dying. He obviously got here with plenty of time because he managed to feed and rehydrate her enough. He knew that within days of the code signal, Lucien would’ve made whomever had him under custody bring him here.’

Kennedy stayed quiet, his mind grinding through the information.

‘Ghost wasn’t his first ever “apprentice”,’ Hunter added. ‘Lucien said so.’

Kennedy looked at Hunter, intrigued.

‘Lucien said that Ghost had outlived his usefulness, like all the previous ones. He said that they all did eventually, so he just finds himself a new little helper.’

A thoughtful pause from Kennedy.

‘I’m sure that the only reason Lucien found apprentices was so that plans like this could work if he ever needed it. He probably found them, taught them the procedures, kept them for a while, then got rid of them and found a new one, and the process would start again.’

‘Because in the long run they’d become a liability,’ Kennedy said. ‘A risk he didn’t need.’

Hunter nodded.

Kennedy still looked uncertain. ‘But to get the procedure in motion, Lucien would’ve had to have gotten the code word or signal out to this Ghost character. So how did he do that?’

‘Phone call?’

Kennedy shook his head. ‘Lucien did not have access to a phone. He wasn’t granted any phone calls. He was incommunicado at all times.’

‘Since he was taken in by the FBI, you mean,’ Hunter said back. ‘But he was arrested by the sheriff’s department in Wheatland, Wyoming. Any calls then?’

A pause, then Kennedy shut his eyes for a second as if in pain.

‘Sonofabitch,’ he whispered. He now remembered reading in the arrest report that the arrested subject was granted a single phone call. The call went unanswered. A code telephone number – a dead line that was never supposed to ring, unless . . . That was the code signal.

‘How did this Ghost guy get in here,’ Kennedy asked. ‘You said that the door to this hellhole was padlocked from the outside.’

‘Last room on the right down the corridor,’ Hunter answered. ‘There’s a door inside that leads to another passageway, which leads to an exit at the back of the house. Ghost got in through there. The first room on the left,’ Hunter said, pointing to the corridor, ‘is an observation room with two computer monitors. Lucien had eight motion-sensor equipped CCTV cameras hidden outside. As soon as anything moved within range of the cameras, a red-light alarm would go off inside the whole shelter.’ Hunter indicated a red bulb on the wall behind Kennedy. ‘One of the cameras is set on a tree at the end of the dirt path that leads to the front of the house.’

‘Where you parked the Jeep,’ Kennedy said.

‘That’s right. That would’ve given Ghost more than enough time to pull Madeleine out of her cell – the last room on the left – tie her to the chair, and come hide inside that box.’

Kennedy turned and looked at the cardboard boxes pushed up against a dark corner.

‘He hid in there?’

Hunter nodded. ‘He had a small frame, and according to Lucien it sounded like he also had the flexibility of a contortionist.’ An awkward pause. ‘This was all rehearsed, Adrian. We walked into a trap, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming.’

‘A very well-prepared trap,’ Kennedy said. ‘Lucien put you and Agent Taylor under incredible time pressure to save a hostage’s life. He put you under even more mental pressure by revealing he was your fiancée’s murderer just minutes before forcing you to bring him here. The door was padlocked from the outside, and we all believed that Lucien always worked alone. There was no reason for you or Agent Taylor to suspect that there’d be someone in here waiting for you.’

‘I still should’ve checked the room properly,’ Hunter said. ‘I’m so terribly sorry for what happened to Courtney.’

No one said anything for about a minute.

‘He’s not going to stop killing,’ Kennedy finally said. ‘We both know that. And when he kills again, we’ll pick up the trail and we’ll hunt him down.’

‘No, we won’t,’ Hunter said.

Kennedy glared at him.

‘He killed for twenty-five years without anyone ever knowing, Adrian. No links. Lucien doesn’t follow a pattern. He doesn’t repeat the same MO. He experiments. He kills indiscriminately – old, young, male, female, blonde, brunette, American, foreigner. Nothing matters to him, except the experience. He could kill someone later today, he could have done it already for all we know. We could find the body, search the crime scene, and we still wouldn’t be able to say with any certainty if the killer had been Lucien or not.’

‘So you believe what he told you?’ Kennedy asked. ‘That we’ll never see him again?’

Hunter nodded. ‘Unless we outsmart him.’

‘And how do you suppose we do that?’

‘Maybe we can find something in those books.’

Kennedy’s gaze moved to the dust-covered books on the shelves.

‘Those are the notebooks you were looking for,’ Hunter explained. ‘Lucien told me that he was leaving us a gift. Well, that’s it. There are fifty-three books in total. All of them are somewhere between 250 and 300 pages long.’

Kennedy approached one of the shelves, randomly picked up one of the notebooks, and flipped it open. The pages were all handwritten. There was no date stamp, no mention of time whatsoever. Groups of written pages were separated by a single blank one, as if to isolate them into numberless and nameless chapters.

‘I don’t know exactly what we’ll find in them until we go through all of them thoroughly,’ Hunter said. ‘But I did have an idea.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘I skimmed through a couple of them before you got here. Judging by what I saw, these books will not only contain Lucien’s emotions, frame of mind, how he felt during the build-up and aftermath of a murder, his different MO’s and so on, but also everything he did, everyone he met, and everywhere he’s been since he started this murderous encyclopedia, including hide-out places like this one. Places no one knows about.’

Kennedy caught on fast. ‘And right now Lucien needs a place to go. A hiding place. And the house in Murphy and this fallout shelter are probably not the only two hiding, or captive, or torture places he has under his wing.’

‘Precisely.’

Kennedy thought about it for a beat. ‘Our problem is that if you’re right, Lucien might be halfway there already, and I’m sure he won’t hide in the same place for too long. He’ll get organized quickly, and then he’ll probably vanish.’

Hunter said nothing.

Kennedy looked back at the shelves. Fifty-three books, each about 300 pages long. Hunter could see the doubt in his eyes.