by Estelle Ryan
I studied his face. “No one downstairs has the right to judge you for any mistakes you made in the past. I’ve wasted countless hours, even days, micro-analysing and re-analysing mistakes I’ve made in my life.
“Every time I do something that is not completely correct or controlled, something that draws the scorn of peers, I find it hard to disconnect. I’ve come to the conclusion that I should allow myself to make mistakes, but it is not that easy. The only way I can ever release the obsessive analysing, the regret and the suffocating feeling of being inept, is by putting all my effort into learning from my mistakes.
“I look at your life, at the way you treat the people you love, and I have no doubt that you’ve learned from your mistakes. Regret and guilt I can understand, but the shame you’re exhibiting? I feel confident in venturing that that is a waste of valuable emotional energy.”
He stared at me. I had been told numerous times that I was hard to read. I’d never allowed my deepest emotions to communicate themselves through my nonverbal cues. But now I made an effort. I allowed Colin to see my trust, my acceptance and my love.
He swallowed and blinked a few times before he reached for my hands. He pulled me closer and pressed my hands hard against his chest. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re the best part of my life.”
“What the bleeding hell are you doing in here?” Manny walked into the bathroom and glared down at us. “Why are you in the bath? Dressed?”
“Why are you in our bathroom?” Colin twisted to half-shield me from Manny. This instinctual action confirmed my earlier proclamations.
Manny shook his head, his shoulders dropping as he grumbled. He walked to the toilet and sat on the closed lid. “That Garage character is telling us all kinds of interesting things and he’s making calls to people I just know are going to piss me off.”
“Garas. His surname is Garas.” I huffed at the distraction and focused on Manny’s nonverbal cues. “You’re interested in this case.”
Manny didn’t answer. He looked around the bathroom, then looked at us, his corrugator supercilii muscles pulling his eyebrows in and down in a deep frown. “I really want to know what you two are doing in that bath.”
“Jenny just needs some time to think,” Colin said before I could answer.
“Hmm.” Manny leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and stared at me. “Is this getting too much for you, Doc? Should we just pack up and go?”
His softly spoken question revealed so much more than just his concern. “You know about my shutdowns.”
“I’m a bit of a detective, you see.” A small smile lifted the one corner of his mouth. “I saw you disappearing when Eric drooled on you the first day. Then the next day you disappeared as soon as we got home. I wasn’t surprised the crowded marketplace got to you that day. I nearly punched a few people’s lights out there. Frey would disappear with you and then you two would only join us hours later. It didn’t take much of my detective skills to put two and two together.”
“Do the others know?” I wanted my friends to enjoy their holiday. I didn’t want them to be worried that I was in a constant state of overstimulation and anxiety.
“What do you think, Doc?”
I put my hands over my eyes and dropped my head forward.
“They know you’re handling this as best you can, love.” Colin took my hand from my eyes and leaned down until I looked at him. “No one’s worried about you. Well, not in the way that would spoil their fun.”
“Why didn’t you tell me they knew?”
“And add more stress?” Colin shook his head. “We’re all having a wonderful holiday. Just a few quirks.”
“And now a big quirk.” Manny sat up. “Are you up for questions, Doc?”
Whereas sitting in the bathtub made me feel protected while I was overwhelmed, I was now feeling vulnerable. I got out of the tub and sat on the edge. Colin joined me. “What questions?”
“Is there anything in that detective’s body language that’s giving you red flags?” He lowered his brow. “Do I need to explain red flags before you piss me off?”
Colin chuckled.
“I understand the expression.” I had an exceptional vocabulary and an above-average grasp of linguistics. But because my brain processed everything on a literal level, it was often hard to catch the euphemism while I was processing the rest of someone’s speech as having a straightforward intent. “Nothing in Andor’s nonverbal cues gave me any indication that he’s being deceitful or that he has ill intent.”
“But?” Manny must have heard the reservation in my voice.
“He’s withholding information.” I caught myself before I crossed my arms. I put my hands on my lap. “I don’t like speculating, but I venture that he’s keeping that information from us as a way to bargain for our assistance.”
“Yeah. That’s my take on that little bugger too.” Manny raised both eyebrows. “If he gives us everything he knows and we decide to take on the case, will you be able to handle it?”
I was barely coping with the change of environment and my constant concern over my friends. I considered Manny’s question even though I knew there was no possible way for me to predict how my non-neurotypical mind would deal with challenges. There were weeks, even months that went by when I didn’t experience a shutdown. Then something as seemingly insignificant as my favourite brand of camomile tea not being in stock would cause a shutdown that would last hours.
The unpredictability of my mind was frustrating. It was impossible, however, to imagine how trying my shutdowns had to be for my neurotypical friends. I brought my thoughts back from this digression and once again deliberated our involvement in finding Olivia and helping Andor with his case. And whatever he was yet to reveal. I inhaled deeply. “I can only predict that my mind will handle this case in a manner similar to our other cases. I can’t say what effect the different environment would have. If you are determined to help Andor, I will support you in that decision.”
“Determined to help.” Manny snorted. “I wouldn’t use those words exactly, Doc.” He looked at Colin. “And you? Are we going to have to give you hugs and cuddles so you don’t fall apart while we deal with your ex?”
Colin’s mouth opened slightly in astonishment. “You are without a doubt the biggest arsehole I know.”
“Thanks. Now answer my bloody question.”
“No, Millard. I won’t need hugs and cuddles. Olivia was part of my life a very long time ago. She was important to me then and if there is anything I can do to help her now, I will do it.” He took my hand. “We’ll do it.”
“You’re good with helping the ex, Doc?”
“I don’t understand your question.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Genevieve is not like us, honey.” Francine walked into the bathroom. It was getting crowded. She stopped next to Manny and rested her hand on his shoulder while looking at me. “She’s not jealous of someone who played an important role in Colin’s life before she became the most important person in his life. Right, girlfriend?”
I frowned. “Why would I be jealous?”
“See?” Francine shrugged as if my response had been exactly what she’d expected. She poked Manny’s shoulder. “I’ve been shamelessly eavesdropping on you guys and am dying to know why you chose the bathroom for this discussion, but I came here to get you. Andor has been on the phone with someone for the last two minutes and is demanding to speak to Genevieve.”
“Doc?”
I turned to Colin. “This is your decision.”
He got up and took my hand. Twice he inhaled to speak, but in the end just nodded his head.
I didn’t reveal a lot about myself to others simply because I seldom considered it relevant. Colin, on the other hand, was obsessively private. I believed it was a combination of his character and spending more than half his life living as one of his many aliases. If I were going to find this case challenging, Colin was going to find it mo
st arduous.
We went downstairs to find Roxy laughing at something Andor had said. Vinnie also looked decidedly less aggressive towards the younger man. The true proof that Andor had built a positive rapport with Vinnie was the plate of Vinnie’s homemade cookies in the centre of the table. A tray of coffee mugs sat next to it, steam still floating up from the hot liquid.
“Ah, you’re here.” Andor put his coffee mug down and smiled at me. “I have much to tell you.”
“So I hear.” I took one of the mugs and sat in the same chair as before. Colin settled next to me, nodding when Vinnie gave him a concerned look.
Andor waited for everyone to sit down and prepare their coffee and Manny his milky tea. “I can understand that you guys don’t want to trust me yet. So I’ll start with a confession. I researched your team the day you arrived here. You see, I’ve been keeping an eye on Émile Roche.”
He looked around the elegant dining room and towards the large and opulent entrance of the villa. “His name was flagged because of his previous run-ins with Interpol. My boss was again pissed off with me about something or another and as my punishment, I had to do a full check on Émile. The brass wanted me to keep an eye on all Émile’s comings and goings as well as any people he was in contact with or who visited him. I quickly learned that all his businesses were now on the up and up and this villa was bought legally with clean money. I was curious about his change of lifestyle and asked around. It took a while to determine which team employed Émile’s help in one of their cases.”
He was using speech more colourful than I was accustomed to, but in context it was easy to understand. I wasn’t that interested in his euphemisms and other verbal expressions. It was his facial expressions that caught my attention. I wasn’t one to speculate or anticipate what a person was about to reveal, but the current expression on his face brought an uncomfortable feeling to my chest.
“When you guys arrived here at Émile’s villa, I was immediately informed.” Andor took another sip of his coffee. “And that was when I started thinking about asking for your help.”
“Help with what?” Manny asked. I wondered if Manny had also noticed that Andor had wanted our help before he’d even known about Olivia’s disappearance.
A troubled look replaced all light friendliness on Andor’s face. “I think we have a serial killer in this area.”
There it was. The confirmation of my suspicion that there was something much larger than Olivia’s disappearance motivating Andor. I waited for the panic, the darkness to take over, but none of it came. I felt strangely calm and interested.
No one else responded. Manny slumped into his chair and glared at Andor. Vinnie crossed his arms, his lips in a thin line. Of all of us, Roxy looked the most perturbed by Andor’s statement.
Colin put his coffee mug down on the table. “Tell us everything you know.”
“Does that mean you’ll help me?”
“Why do you need our help?” Manny asked.
His expression was so revealing I spoke before I thought about it. “He hasn’t told his superiors or they don’t believe... aha, it’s the former.”
“Why haven’t you told your superior?” Colin asked.
Andor raised one shoulder. “Because I have no bleeping solid proof that these murders were even murders. They all appeared one hundred percent to be deaths by natural causes.”
“Dude, bleep isn’t a good swear word.” Vinnie’s top lip curled. “It has no oomph.”
“That’s why I’m using it.” Andor chuckled. “Someone complained about my strong language and I was told to change it.”
“So you started using bleep?” Roxy laughed. “How does that translate into Hungarian?”
Andor’s smile was mischievous. “Really badly.”
It irked me when people got so easily distracted. I needed to stay on topic. “So what makes you think these deaths are murders?”
Andor sobered. “All three victims were extremely influential individuals. Rich, powerful and connected. That is a very loose similarity between them.” He looked at Francine. “All three deaths were livestreamed.”
“Someone was broadcasting a live feed of these people’s deaths?” Francine’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “You’re sure about this?”
“I found the camera still streaming in the last victim’s house. I then checked the data flow from the IP addresses of the first victims. The IT experts assured me that both victims were streaming live video at the time the medical examiner said they’d died. Both victims died in rooms with cameras in laptops, TVs and phones, so it could’ve come from any of those devices. When I tried to delve deeper, I was strongly and clearly told that even the medical examiner classified these deaths as natural and I should mind my own business.”
“What did you do to create such a fragile relationship with your colleagues and superiors?” It was easy for me to see the way he was avoiding full disclosure.
“You might as well tell us all your secrets, dude.” Vinnie’s biceps bulged as he flexed his crossed arms. “If you want our help, you gotta know that we’re going to find out every little detail about your life.”
Andor looked at Manny and pulled his shoulders back. “I advanced through the ranks very quickly. There is some resentment among my peers because of that. I got where I am today because I’m good at what I do. I look at cases and can quickly determine if there is something fishy about them. I’ve taken on cases that everyone else thought were nuisance cases. Those were the cases that got me promoted, that got me noticed. My colleagues who dismissed those cases as rubbish are the ones with the most resentment.”
“Your superior?” Manny asked.
“He’s a good man.” Andor’s micro-expressions revealed his respect. “But he’s convinced he was being punished when I was placed in his department. I don’t want to cause him any problems with his bosses by taking cases to him that might turn out to be nothing.”
“You mean this case,” I said. “Your suspicion of a serial killer.”
“Yes.” He rubbed his palms on his thighs, a self-soothing gesture. “I suppose I should also tell you that my father is the National Commissioner of Police.”
A small smile lifted one corner of Manny’s mouth. I didn’t understand why he would find Andor’s apparent embarrassment humorous. He leaned back in his chair. “Does anyone know?”
“Only my captain.” Andor shrugged. “I begged him not to tell anyone in the department. I got to where I am because I’m good at what I do.”
“You don’t have the same surname.” Francine lifted her tablet. “Here it says his name is Victor Drozdik.”
“I’m using my mother’s maiden name. I didn’t want to live under my dad’s shadow.”
“And you don’t want people to think Daddy promoted you,” Vinnie said.
“That and I don’t want anyone to think that I’m going to run to my dad at the slightest sign of a disagreement or confrontation.”
His candidness and discomfiture at his lineage strengthened the respect Manny, Colin and Vinnie exhibited. Manny nodded. “Okay, what else do you have?”
“Nothing. Just the loose connection of them being VIPs, the livestreaming and my gut screaming at me.” He straightened his shoulders. “When Olivia contacted me yesterday and said she wanted to talk to me about István Koltai, my gut screamed at me again. And now she’s missing? It’s simply too much of a coincidence for my liking.”
“Let me guess.” Roxy pushed a strand of wayward curls behind her ear. “István Koltai is one of your victims?”
Andor nodded. “The third victim. He died two days ago. He was—”
“The CFO of Július, the largest and oldest investment institution in Hungary.” Francine swiped her tablet screen. “It says here that Július handles the investments of more than forty percent of the country’s richest people. It is also known for its programmes educating students about pension funds and other investments for their and their children’s futures. Hu
h. Sounds like a solid company. And from this István Koltai’s bio on the company website, it sounds like he spearheaded a few of these programmes.”
Andor pointed at Francine’s tablet. “What you won’t find on his bio is that István Koltai had a severe peanut allergy. I was surprised when I found a recording of the livestreaming. It’s as if the killer is bleeping taunting us.”
“Where did you find the recording?” Francine asked. “How?”
“Google.” Andor snorted. “It was pure luck. I thought I’d deleted István Koltai’s name from the search box when I entered ‘peanut allergy,’ but I hadn’t. His name and allergy brought up a YouTube video under a numbered account.”
“That’s awful.” Francine shuddered. “I want that detail. Maybe I can trace the killer through the video.”
“Sure.” Andor turned from Francine to face me. “The video showed him eating a snack and almost immediately suffering an allergic reaction. That snack should’ve been clear of any peanuts. The company that produces the snack denied any wrongdoing. Their factory is inspected once a month on their own insistence. They want everyone to know their products are safe. This was the first death that involved one of their products.”
“Did you find anything to indicate the snack was tampered with?” Colin asked.
“No. It is of course possible that the needle mark where the allergen was injected was destroyed when István Koltai tore the wrapper.” Frustration was clear on his face. “We have nothing. All we have is that video showing him going into anaphylactic shock, grabbing his EpiPen and injecting himself. But it didn’t help.”
Roxy’s eyebrows rose. “It should’ve helped him immediately. Why didn’t the epinephrine work?”
“The medical examiner told me that he tested the EpiPen and there wasn’t any epinephrine in it. It was a vitamin B12 solution.”
“What?” Roxy’s voice rose a fraction. “Who would do such a thing? It’s murder.”
“Yup, that’s what the ME also said.” Andor’s lips contracted into thin lines. “And still he refused to classify István Koltai’s death as a homicide. He said the snack killed Koltai. Not the EpiPen.”
