Page 96 of The House of Cross

Malcomb put his glasses back on and peered at me with a grin that struck me as both ironic and cruel.

“Unlike Judge Pak, who had skewed morals and judgment, and Judge Franklin, who arranged for her husband’s plane to crash, it’s not what Nathan Carver did, Dr. Cross,” he said. “It’s what the professor planned to do once he sat on the high bench.”

“And what was that?”

“Overturn American Indian law top to bottom. As a professor and an activist, he has quietly advocated challenging every treaty between every tribe and the U.S. government since the Revolutionary War. The oppressed peoples would then attempt to reclaim their rights and lands, and the country would be consumed in havoc for years. We gathered more than one hundred thousand data points that said that would be his mission if he were named to the court, a total reversal of hundreds of years of precedent.”

I shook my head. “For data points you had her kill him?”

“We eliminated Carver to prevent the chaos he would have caused in the country,” Malcomb said. “All property ownership. All mineral rights and water rights. All oil and gas leases. All of them possibly thrown out if Carver reached the court at such a young age.”

Sampson shook his head. “How can you know how much sway he’d have on the court?”

“If Pak and Franklin joined him, a great deal,” Malcomb shot back.

“And you personally make all these decisions—who lives, who dies. I’m sorry, but who made you God? Other than your brother.”

I could tell the vigilante leader was not used to being challenged, and he struggled not to lose his cool.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Malcomb said. “The algorithms—”

Bree said, “The algorithms? You have machines making these decisions?”

Malcomb blinked and rubbed at his temples. “Edith? Explain.”

Edith said firmly, “There are rules, and we collectively make the decisions based on the data and the hard evidence.”

Bean said, “There is a vote on every target.”

The janitor said, “And no one takes their votes lightly.”

“No one,” Katrina White said.

Malcomb lifted his head and looked at us in a way that made me wonder if he was feeling ill rather than irritated by our challenges. “As Edith indicated, there are rules in Maestro. Strict ones. And we hold our operatives to the highest standards, which is why we brought you here instead of killing you.”

Bree beat me to it.

“What are you saying?” she demanded.

“That we believe that while you are misguided, you are uncorrupted, and because of that we want the three of you to join us. Join Maestro and help us restore order.”

CHAPTER 73

I WAS ABOUT TOtell him to put his offer where the sun didn’t shine but Malcomb held up both palms and said, “Don’t make an impulse decision. In fact, don’t make any decision until you’ve slept on it. But please, tell me your doubts.”

“Okay,” I said. “As sophisticated as you are, I don’t believe in vigilantes taking the law into their hands and making a mess of things.”

“Name an instance where we did that.”

“Executing drug cartel members and law enforcement officers?”

“Law enforcement officers who were thoroughly corrupted,” Malcomb said, hardening. “And if you remember, the Alejandro cartel was winning the war for the southern border until Maestro got involved. Today, the cartel does not even exist, and the remaining narcos down there are terrified to take their place.”

I glanced at Bree and Sampson. We could not argue with himon that point. Every bit of intelligence we’d read indicated that drug trafficking along the southwest U.S. border had dropped significantly since the Alejandro cartel was destroyed.

Bree said, “And the fashion murders in New York?”

Malcomb said, “That designer and her top aides were running a human-trafficking operation in front of the whole world. Now it does not exist.”

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