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That fit with whatPalliser had told them. The cruelty of it only hit home more now that they werethere in front of the device.
Amber examined thepulley system more closely, trying not to think about the brutality of what hadhappened there. It was impossible to keep it from her mind, though. Emily Chenwould have been there, frightened and helpless, feeling the noose tightenaround her neck and knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop it. Allshe could do was hope that help would come, and it hadn’t, not in time.
Simon walkedcloser to the pulley system, examining every inch. “Someone put a lot of timeand effort into making this work.”
“Someone who knewwhat they were doing,” Amber said. “But also someone who wants to play games.”
“Yes, this guyreally loves a puzzle,” Francesca said.
Amber shook herhead, though. “I’m not sure about that.”
That earned her afrown. “What do you mean?”
“The engineeringis complicated, but the puzzle…?”
“Ouradministrative staff couldn’t solve it in time,” Francesca pointed out.
Amber nodded. “Butmy guess is that they don’t spend most of their time on puzzles. I do. Trustme, hangman is not a complicated game. Someone who really loved puzzles mightpick something with more layers to it, more complexity.”
It was hard tokeep from sounding arrogant about that, from sounding as if the whole puzzlewas beneath her, but the truth was that the person who had constructed this wasbetter at making machines than puzzles. Amber could have made a more complexpuzzle easily.
Francesca noddedthoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll take your word on that. So, what do you think is themotive behind all of this if it’s not about the puzzle itself?”
“The detective hasa point, Amber,” Simon said. “Why go through all this trouble just to killsomeone like this, if the puzzle isn’t the point?”
Amber thought fora moment, her mind racing with possibilities. “It could be a revenge killing,someone with a grudge against Emily. HerandThomas Jackson. You saidbefore that she was a marketing consultant. Is it possible that she did anywork for the Westford-Myer Motor Company, or for Thomas Jackson directly?”
“We’ve been tryingto get answers on that since she was killed,” Francesca said. She turned backtoward the exit. “There aren’t any papers at her home to suggest it that wecould find, and the Westford-Myer Motor Company are dragging their feet. Therewas a court case a few months back, leading to a big recall. My guess is thatthey don’t want to divulge anything relating to it. Come on, maybe we’ll havesome luck on that front now that everyone is awake.”
She led the way upthrough the warehouse, heading back to the car. Amber was grateful to head backout into the light and open air. As they walked, she tried to think of anyother possibilities. She was frustrated that she couldn’t find an obviousconnection that would lead from Emily Chen to the killer.
Amber gulped inthe fresh air, grateful to be out of the warehouse. The last thing she wantedwas to show any weakness in front of the detective so soon after meeting her,but being down there had been oppressive, hard to deal with.
A part of Amberwished that there was something as simple as another puzzle to deal with onthis case. The hangman puzzles had seemed simple. She could cope with that. Shecould solve it, and it would give her a sense of control. But this wasdifferent. This was about someone’s life, and someone had taken that life in agruesome way.
Amber wasconfident that if the killer sent another puzzle, she would be able to solve itin plenty of time to get to the victim, and maybe they could tell her, Simon,and Francesca something about the killer. Maybe that was the way they weregoing to solve this.
For now, though,they had to focus on the other angles of the case. Simon seemed to have thesame idea, because, as they got out into the open air, he pulled out his phone.
“Who are youcalling?” Francesca asked.
“I’m going to tryWestford-Myer,” Simon said. “Maybe they’ll give the FBI information they wouldn’tgive to the local police. If there’s a connection between Thomas Jackson andEmily Chen, if she did any work for them, I want to know.”
Francesca noddedin agreement, and they walked to the car in silence. Once they were in the car,Simon dialed the number for Westford-Myer while Francesca drove.
The phone rangseveral times before a woman answered. “Westford-Myer, how can I help you?”
“This is AgentSimon Phelps from the FBI. I’m calling in connection with an investigation intothe deaths of Thomas Jackson and a woman named Emily Chen.”
“What can we dofor you, Agent Phelps?”
“I want to know ifthere’s any connection between Emily Chen and your company, to establish ifthere might be a connection to Thomas Jackson. Did she do any work for you?”
“I see,” the womansaid. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give out any information without properauthorization.”
“I understandthat, but this is a matter of life and death,” Simon said, obviously tryinghard to keep his tone reasonable. “Emily Chen was murdered in the same way asThomas Jackson, and we need any information you have that could help us catchher killer.”
There was a pauseon the other end of the line. “I’ll transfer you to our legal department. They mightbe able to assist you further.”
