by Estelle Ryan
The crates were identical sizes and all eight had large stickers warning of the fragility of the contents. The shipping stickers were too far away to read the detail and I wondered if the quality of the footage was good enough to zoom in and read the information on the stickers.
One crate was open, the wooden lid leaning against the plastic containers lining the wall. On top of one of the closed crates was a dark green glass bottle.
“He took crates of wine bottles?” Daniel’s tone matched the confusion seen on the faces of everyone in the room. “Why would he do that?”
“Jace collected stuff.” Caelan squeezed the stress ball. “In the beginning, it was hard for him to leave the caches for others to find. He wanted to take each cache we found and start a cache collection. So I told him to take photos of each cache. He printed out all these photos and put them in a book.”
“What was he going to do with the wine bottles? Did he enjoy drinking wine?” Colin took a step closer to the monitors and stared at the bottle on top of the unopened crate. “This is not from any reputable vineyard I’m familiar with.”
Caelan looked at Francine’s shoulder. “Can you take the recording back? I stopped reading Jace’s signing when everyone started talking.”
“Sure thing.” Francine tapped her tablet screen and the video returned to the moment Jace’s hands came into view.
For a few seconds it was quiet while everyone watched the gestures. “Now he’s saying that he’s going to plan a cache hunt for people to find the crates. Each person who gets to the final cache will be allowed to take one bottle of wine. He’s very excited about creating his own cache hunt. He’s saying the riddles will be epic. No stupid envelope riddles.”
Jace’s hands disappeared from the monitors and he walked closer to the crate. He lifted the bottle and tilted it as if to read the glossy label. We needed that information.
As I reached for my mouse, Francine paused the image, zoomed in and took a screenshot. She smiled at me, then pointed with a manicured purple nail between her head and mine. “We share a brain, you and I.”
I leaned away from her.
“Do you know where this place is?” Manny was looking at the monitor.
No one answered.
Caelan stared at the monitors. Francine zoomed out and searched the footage for the best view of the room. She took another screenshot and put that on the monitor closer to Caelan. He looked at it for a few more seconds and shook his head. “I know Jace rented a few basements in buildings close to his apartment for all his stuff, but I don’t know where any of them are.”
“He has more stuff than this?” Vinnie’s eyebrows were high on his forehead. “Did the dude never throw anything away?”
“No. But he was obsessively organised and kept his collections in very good condition.” Caelan started rocking. “He’ll never see his collections again.”
Colin glanced at Caelan. “Are you all right?”
“Australia is wider than the moon.” Caelan rocked back and forth. “Africa is the only continent that covers four hemispheres.”
“Come on, bud.” Pink walked over to Caelan’s chair. “Why don’t we get some fresh air?”
“The Sargasso Sea is the only sea without a coast.” Caelan nodded and got up. He looked down at his hands and raised his eyebrows when he noticed the stress balls. He made an obvious effort to relax, squeezed the balls and looked at my shoulder. “I want to help.”
“I know.” It was unsettling to observe how hard Caelan was trying to cope with the effects of the loss of his friend. I’d learned that the average neurotypical individual often needed reassurance, even if it meant lying to them. My studies and own experience had taught me that non-neurotypical people needed logic. I leaned forward. “I will have more questions that you might have the answers to. When I do, I will need your help.”
Caelan stared at my shoulder for another seven seconds, then nodded and followed Pink from my viewing room. Immediately, I felt the relief of having fewer people in my space. Manny’s grumbling as he sat down in the chair Caelan had vacated felt oddly calming.
“Ready?” Francine’s soft question brought tension to my throat until it felt like I was being strangled.
“Have you watched this?” Colin asked.
“No.” Francine turned to look at Colin. “And I can’t say I want to.”
“None of us want to, Franny.” Vinnie crossed his arms, the corners of his mouth turned down.
“Play it.” If she didn’t start the rest of the video now, I might not be able to hold off the looming shutdown long enough.
“Here we go.” She tapped her tablet screen and the video continued for another minute in the basement. Jace signed something before the screen went dark for a few seconds.
When the screen turned on again, the image moved erratically, pained screaming coming through the speakers. Immediately, darkness entered my peripheral vision. I grabbed the armrests of my chair and pushed as far back against the seat as I could.
The image flipped from the ceiling to the floor, the rug, leather shoes, then it slid across the floor until it stopped under the bed. Where we’d found it.
“Where are they?” a male voice whispered in French. My speciality was in nonverbal communication, but sometimes I could determine intent by the tone of someone’s voice. There was no tone to interpret. The man sounded calm, emotionless even.
Another loud scream filled my viewing room. My breathing shallowed, the tightness around my throat increasing. No sooner had the pained sounds slowed than Jace screamed again. I couldn’t bear this anymore. I wrapped my arms around my drawn-up knees and hid my face in my arms.
The quiet voice questioned Jace three more times, his questions the same. His French had no discernible accent and his whispering made it impossible to determine the timbre of his voice.
When Jace didn’t answer, a tormented scream followed. Once. Then again. Three was my limit.
Mozart was out of my reach, my usual techniques never intended to help me cope with something like this. When Jace again didn’t answer a question because he couldn’t, I allowed the blackness to take me before I had to listen to his tormented cries again.
“Jenny? Love?” A familiar warm hand rubbed my forearm. “It’s done.”
“We shouldn’t have watched that.” Francine’s voice was thick with tears.
“You know we had to.” Manny was uncharacteristically gentle.
This was what made me lift my head. “How long?”
“You left us only for about twenty minutes.” Colin smiled when I looked at him.
I shook my head. “I wasn’t asking about my shutdown.” I swallowed. “How long did Jace’s torture last?”
“Too long.” Colin closed his eyes and pushed his fist against his mouth. He took a deep breath and looked at me. “Fifteen minutes.”
“It felt like hours.” Francine gripped Manny’s hand resting on her shoulder. He was standing behind her chair. Colin had taken Manny’s usual seat.
“I really want to find that motherfucker and put a world of hurt on him.” Vinnie’s fists were pushed on his hips, his nostrils flaring. “He doesn’t know it yet, but he won’t live much longer.”
It was foreign for me to feel reassured by the others’ distress. I usually didn’t want them to experience any emotional discomfort, yet seeing the effect the video had on them calmed me. I lowered my legs to the floor and rolled my shoulders. “Did you learn anything about the killer?”
“No.” Francine wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. “The bastard was out of view the whole time. And he whispered the whole time. It made everything worse.”
“His shoes are quality leather boots, but the type you can find in any high-end store.” Colin looked at his own designer boots. “We can’t even follow up on that. There are too many of those boots in circulation.”
“The thing is...” Daniel sighed when we turned to look at him. “We have nothing. We have a video of an un
recognisable man torturing Jace, but we don’t even have any evidence that the same man dropped Jace in the forest. It could’ve been someone else who took Jace to the forest.”
“And left him there to die.” Francine grabbed her tablet. “I’m not done with my searches. I will find something that will give us a lead on this guy.”
I had no idea where she would look. Despite all the data we had, it felt to me like we had nothing.
“Hey, guys.” Pink walked towards us, the elevator door closing behind him. “Caelan decided to have milk and cookies with Phillip. He’ll join us when he feels ready. Learn anything new?”
Daniel gave Pink a quick review of what we’d seen on the video. They started discussing the evidence and I returned my attention to the screenshot Francine had taken of Jace’s basement room. I zoomed in on the screenshot of the wine bottle and frowned. The bright light was reflecting off the glossy label, making it impossible to read. Ignoring Manny’s questions, I shifted closer to my desk and opened the software I used when I needed to enhance footage.
Seven minutes later, I leaned back in my chair. The first view of the bottle was from its side, the label not visible. The reflection of the light and the gloss of the label was an unfortunate combination. “I can’t see what’s on that label.”
“Can you see what’s on the shipping sticker?” Colin pointed at the screenshot of the room. “That might give us a place to start.”
I zoomed in on that sticker, my muscles relaxing. This sticker didn’t have any gloss and the light didn’t catch it at a compromising angle. I enhanced the image and nodded. “This wasn’t shipped to the storage unit. This is a different address.”
“Easy Post. Hmm.” Pink took out his phone. “It’s an international courier. I have a confidential informant who works there. Last month, we intercepted a shipment of cigarettes from Belarus. All black-market stuff. Give me a sec.”
We all stayed quiet while Pink contacted his informant and asked a few questions. Each new question made me more curious about the information Pink was learning. I wasn’t alone in this. As soon as Pink disconnected the call, Manny leaned forward. “Well?”
Pink’s eyebrows were high on his forehead. “This is interesting shit. Wow. Okay, so my CI works in their admin department. It’s a small company, but they do well. He said that the shipment arrived, he scanned it and took a photo like he always does.”
“Wait.” Francine tilted her head. “He always takes photos?”
Pink nodded. “Yeah. He told me it’s to protect himself in case his boss ever accuses him of losing a shipment. Apparently, that’s why the admin guy before him got fired.”
Manny snapped his fingers. “The photo.”
“Yes. He sent me the photo and this is where it gets interesting.” Pink swiped his phone screen, stretched the image and turned it for us to see. “One address. Two names.”
Vinnie leaned closer to the phone. “Gilles Mahout and Adèle Maxim.”
“Hold on.” Francine tapped on her tablet screen. “Well, paint me yellow and call me SpongeBob SquarePants. Gilles Mahout is the manager at Self-Storage Solutions, the place where Jace found the ‘e’ cache. And holy yoga pants! The address on the label is for that self-storage warehouse.”
“What is going on here?” Manny glared at Pink’s phone. “If this Giggles was supposed to receive the crates, why then did he pretend it was a delivery for someone else? And why did he practically give it away to Jace?”
Pink put his phone in his pocket, took out his tablet and tapped on the screen. A second later, he inhaled sharply. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Speak. Now.” Manny pushed himself to the edge of his chair.
“Adèle Maxim is dead.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny rubbed his hand over his face. “What happened to her?”
Daniel was also looking at his tablet, his frown deep. “She was killed. This is an open homicide investigation.”
It wasn’t his tone as much as his micro-expressions that sent a rush of adrenaline through my body. “How did she die?”
Daniel looked up. “The same way Jace did. Tortured.”
“Shit.” Colin crossed his arms and swallowed. “Tortured? Why?”
We didn’t have enough data to answer Colin’s question, so I twisted in my seat to look at Daniel. “Tell us everything.”
Daniel nodded. “Adèle wasn’t tortured half as much as Jace. The autopsy revealed that she had suffered a few punches to her face and only three of her fingers were broken. The medical examiner concluded that she died from heart failure. She had a pre-existing heart condition.”
“And when the stress of being tortured became too much, her heart gave out.” Colin closed his eyes. “Poor girl.”
“Who is she?” Manny pointed at Francine’s tablet. “Find out everything you can about her.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Francine winked at Manny and swiped her tablet screen.
“There’s some background in her file here.” Daniel kneaded the back of his neck. “She was only twenty-eight. So young. She was born in Paulhan, a tiny town of around two thousand residents in Southern France, went to school in the area and came to Strasbourg around twelve years ago. She had an online business—Freedom Fragrances—selling cosmetics. All her taxes were paid. No red flags.”
“Ooh, I disagree.” Francine raised both eyebrows while looking at her tablet. “This girl was good. She was never investigated for any crimes, but I will bet all my strappy sandals we’ll find loads of naughtiness when we start looking into her life. There is no way her little registered online cosmetics business did well enough to buy her a house in the Robertsau neighbourhood. Not according to the tax records I’m looking at.”
“Robertsau?” Colin tilted his head. “That area has some very expensive houses. A house? You sure it’s not an apartment?”
“Nope. A house. And we all know how expensive houses are in this ridiculous city.” Francine narrowed her eyes as she tapped and swiped her tablet screen. “Hmm. I’m looking at it on Google Maps. It’s an average-looking house. Blending in nicely with the neighbours.”
“She bought it cash.” Daniel’s eyebrows were raised. “We’ll have to look at her family’s financial history, but her father is a handyman and her mother a cleaning lady, so I doubt they could’ve bought it for her. There’s a note here that the parents showed no interest when they were notified of Adèle’s death.”
“That’s just awful.” The corners of Francine’s mouth pulled down. “So sad.”
“Or maybe they didn’t care to have a criminal daughter.” Manny looked at Vinnie. “Have you ever heard of her while visiting your lowlife friends?”
“You mean my criminal informants?” Vinnie straightened and crossed his arms. “The people who have helped us many times to solve crimes?”
“Bugger off.” Manny slumped. “So? Have you ever heard them talk about her?”
“No.” He shrugged. “I can’t even guess what she was into. Drugs, art, guns, petty stuff, hacking. No idea.”
“If she was into hacking, I might’ve come across her.” Francine tapped her tablet screen, then shook her head. “But the IP address from her house has never registered anywhere as a hacker’s. Not that it means anything. A good hacker would know how to hide.”
“Then I suggest you find out who she was and what she was into.” Manny looked at Daniel. “When and where did she die?”
“Six days ago. Her house.” He winced. “Her gardener found her in the kitchen, still bound to a chair.”
“The house still a crime scene?”
“Yup.” Daniel lifted his phone. “I’ll arrange a visit.”
“You guys go ahead.” Francine got up. “I’ll stay here and look for her online. See what I can dig up.”
“Look for connections between Adèle Maxim and Jace.” I thought about this some more. “The age difference is slight, so they might have crossed paths in different ways. She might have a sibling or cousin who has
a connection to Jace.”
“Will do.” She winked at Manny as she walked to her desk and said over her shoulder, “Bring me some chocolate when you come back.”
“Why do you need more?” Vinnie pointed at her desk. “You have enough chocolate in your bottom desk drawer to feed a rugby team, Franny.”
“A girl can never have enough chocolate. Or diamonds.” She perked up and looked back into the viewing room. “Forget the chocolates. Bring back some diamonds.”
Vinnie laughed when Manny grumbled a rude response before looking at me. “You coming with us, Doc?”
“You pose it as a question, but your nonverbal cues communicate it as an order.” I closed my eyes in annoyance at my observation, then started closing all the windows on my computer. “Of course I’m coming.”
I wanted to see how this young woman lived. Jace’s flat had given me insight into his character. Seeing Adèle’s house would hopefully give me similar insight. More importantly, I hoped to find something that would connect her to Jace so we could find the murderer and stop him before anyone else died.
Chapter SIX
WE DROVE TO THE ROBERTSAU area in two SUVs. Mid-morning traffic was light and I could relax. There was more than enough space for Colin to keep a following distance that was comfortable for me. Daniel was driving the SUV in front of us and clearly didn’t mind being mere centimetres from the vehicle in front of him.
I looked out of the passenger window at the few people walking the beautiful pathways in Parc de l’Orangerie and thought about Caelan. In the three years I’d known him, he’d shown incredible determination to become as high-functioning in this neurotypical world as possible. The last two days had seen a lot of his behaviour revert, yet he was still much more in control of himself than before.
Autism was such a complex neurological disorder that it made it impossible to have a single treatment that would apply to everyone on the spectrum. Mentally writing Mozart compositions, as I was doing now, helped pull my mind away from whatever chaotic stimuli was overwhelming my senses. It calmed me. For Caelan it was reciting geological facts and more recently using the stress balls. I wondered what, if any, methods Jace had used to help him deal with being nonverbal on top of the usual autistic challenges.
