Page 42 of Absent Remorse

“So, what are you saying?” Simon asked.

“I don’t think it’s about getting a ball bearing through a maze. I think it’s about taking thepuzzleto the right places, in order.”

It made sense. If the FBI did nothing except carry the puzzle with them, then they would eventually visit all of the murder sites and so unlock the puzzle. The killer would be able to laugh at the FBI as they only solved the puzzle by accident, too late to save any of the victims.

For a moment, Amber thought that Simon might not go along with it, but then he nodded.

“All right, if you’re sure, then it’s our best shot. I’ll drive.”

They ran for his car, and Amber got into the passenger seat. “The first four symbols are the locations of the first four murders. If we head there in order, I’ll guide you to the next ones.”

Simon set off with lights flashing and sirens blaring, cutting through the DC traffic as they headed to the first of the locations. They pulled up, and even as Amber watched, she saw the first of the symbols on the pyramid light up from behind.

“It’s working!” Amber said.

They sped off in the direction of the next location. Amber could see the ball bearing moving over the surface of the pyramid, seemingly by itself, as they travelled along the streets. They didn’t even have to stop at the second murder scene, because as soon as they got close enough, the second symbol lit up.

“Keep going,” Amber said.

The two of them sped on, and now Amber could feel a sense of anticipation building as they drove. The puzzle was responding, and that had to mean that they were on the right track. They drove to the third and fourth murder scenes, a symbol lighting up each time.

“Now where?” Simon asked.

Now, they weren’t just following in the wake of the killer. Now, they were moving to get ahead of him, trying to hit locations where he hadn’t killed anyone yet. Amber started to call out directions, finding her way around the maze of the city’s streets the way she might have guided the ball bearing around the maze that she and Simon had constructed.

“Left here, then three blocks along. Now right. It’s somewhere here.”

Amber saw another symbol light up, another spot where the killer would have murdered someone. Or at least close to it. Amber didn’t know the radius of the signal that meant the pyramid would respond. Maybe the killer had kept it deliberately broad to give himself choices about where to kill now the sequence with pi was done.

All that mattered now was continuing to hit the marks the killer had picked out. Amber kept calling out directions, kept feeling the car lurch left and right at full speed as the two of them raced to complete the puzzle. Symbol after symbol lit up until only one remained.

The last spot appeared to be in a public park. Amber and Simon drove into its parking lot, and Amber leapt out of the car as soon as it was stationary, heading in the direction the map indicated. Ahead, she could see a bandstand with a couple of trees nearby. Amber ran for it, then stood in the middle.

The final symbol lit up and Amber gasped with a mixture of surprise and triumph as the walls of the pyramid peeled open like a blooming flower. Something sat within, a single object that seemed too small to have any more layers waiting within it. This had to be the final piece of the puzzle, the clue that would lead them to the killer.

It was a key.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Amber knew that she held the answer to the case as she clutched the key between the thumb and index finger of her right hand. The only question now was what it meant.

“A key?” Simon said, looking puzzled. “Just a key?”

He sounded as though he didn’t think that the race across the city to try to hit the points on the map had been worth it. Perhaps as if he didn’t feel that any of the effort they’d put into solving the puzzle had been worth it.

“I think it’s just a question of finding what it opens,” Amber said.

“Do you think the killer has given us the key to his front door?” Simon asked. He didn’t sound like he thought it was particularly likely.

Nor did Amber.

“This doesn’t look like a door key,” she said. “Maybe a lock up, or a locker, or something?”

The key was flat and made of brass, with the logo of a company called Staveley embossed on it. The head of it wasn’t that of a normal key, but instead consisted of what appeared to be an enameled scene of a train running through open countryside, with the number 104 set into it.

The image was obviously a clue; the only question now was what it meant. It took Amber only a moment or two to come to the obvious conclusion.

“Railway stations have lockers, right?” she said.

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