“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 unrecognisable 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.