Page 10 of Girl, Empty
‘Yes,’ Edis said.‘I just wanted to say goodbye properly.’
CHAPTER FOUR
It was really happening.Ella sat in the leather chair she’d sat in countless times while Director Edis had given her her orders, and now she was doing it for her final time.William Edis was leaving the FBI.
‘Wow,’ Ripley said beside her.‘I’m gutted.’
‘Don’t be.’Edis placed his hands on his desk and smoothed it out, like he was prepping it for his successor.‘I’ve reached the ten-year limit, and the Bureau is in a better place now than when I started.That’s as much as I can ask for.’
‘What are you going to do?’Ella asked.
Edis shrugged.The man was usually coiled like a spring, but his shoulders had slumped in a way she’d never seen before.This was what happened when you were relieved of your duties, she guessed.‘I can’t work within the Bureau anymore, but there are other options.The CIA, the MOD.I might even go back to Chicago PD.’
‘The world’s your oyster,’ Ripley said.‘When’s your last day?’
‘Whenever the new director is ready to be sworn in.It will happen fast, within 24 hours, then there’ll be a massive turnover.Everyone from Deputy Director Marshall’s level up will be replaced.The new government have their favorites, and we’re not part of them.’
This was big.Ella was yet to see a full changing of the guard at the Bureau, and word has it that it usually stirred things up.‘Do you know who’s replacing you, sir?’
Edis laughed.‘So eager to get rid of me, Miss Dark?’
‘Absolutely not.I’ll miss you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Even if you were a pain in the ass,’ she added.If there was ever a time to be honest with the director, now was it.Hell, she could probably pull his pants down and still have a job tomorrow.
‘Yes I was, and I’m glad you finally said it to my face.As for your question, no replacement has been announced yet.It will be one of the president’s buddies, so be wary of that.’
‘Roger.’
‘I don’t know any Roger.’Edis grabbed two brown folders off his desk and held them up, like he was about to ask Ella to choose one.‘Anyway, with that, I have one final request for you both.I’m sure you know what I’m about to ask.’
He slid the folders over and the agents took one each.There was a stencil in the top right corner that said:CASE: 131469, INDIANAPOLIS, IN.
Ripley asked, ‘This is your parting gift, Will?A murder case?’
‘No.My parting gifts are over there.’Edis pointed to two bouquets of roses on his liquor cabinet.‘One for each of you.This is just a bonus.’
‘You shouldn’t have.’
‘I’m afraid I had to.I might be on countdown but I’m still on the job.Long story short, we’ve got a very strange situation in central Indianapolis, and honestly I’ve never seen anything like it.Please take a look.’
Ella opened the folder and scanned the police report on top.The basics were straightforward enough: one victim, Michael Rankin, 38, stabbed in the chest in his office at Morrison & Associates.The Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department had responded to a 911 call at 00:38 on January 18.The caller had been the building’s security guard.
‘Single stab wound to the chest,’ Ella read aloud as she moving down the page.‘No defensive wounds.No signs of struggle.’
Ripley rifled through her own folder.‘Workplace murder.The stats suggest it was a colleague.’
‘Time of death between midnight and half past.’
‘That’s a pretty narrow period of time.Surely police could condense it down based on that alone.Who else is gonna be in an office like this at that time?’
Ella flipped to the first crime scene photo in the pile.It showed Michael Rankin face-down on a hardwood floor.A pool of blood spread out in every direction.The office around him looked immaculate.Not a paper out of place nor a chair overturned.
She stared at the photo and did what she always did when confronted with crime scene images.She took a moment to acknowledge the person who'd been alive just hours before this photo was taken.He’d gone to work that day – or evening – and busied himself with trivial things.He'd adjusted his tie, chosen which shoes to wear, grabbed his coffee on the way out.All the small, meaningless decisions that make up a life, not knowing it was his last day making them.
‘Suicide?’Ripley butted in.‘You know what these city boy investor types are like.’
