Page 18 of Absent Mercy


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He wasn’t surewhere the idea for the game had come from. Maybe from the ghosts. His originalthought had simply been to hang those responsible, to execute them cleanly, butit hadn’t seemed like enough. They’d caused such suffering that it had seemedas though they should suffer more. They’d killed people through poorengineering, so it seemed right that they should die through betterconstruction. They’d promised that they would fix things, held out hope to people,so he gave them hope, while simultaneously making it almost impossible for theauthorities to find them. After all, the authorities hadn’t helped when peoplehad suffered because of Westford-Myer.

His next targetwas going to be Dave Muldeer, an engineer who had been part of the teamresponsible for approving the faulty vehicle. He had been one of those who hadturned a blind eye to the problems, and there was no doubt that he had blood onhis hands. Dave Muldeer had been in a position to know exactly what was goingwrong, but had instead chosen to keep quiet in order to advance his career. Hehad chosen money over people’s lives. The ghosts had made that clear. They hadshouted the enormity of the crimes so much that it hurt to listen to them.

It was time forhim to pay for his silence.

He parked his vandown the street from the engineer’s house and waited. He knew that this wasDave Muldeer’s day off, so he would be home, at least until he walked down tothe store as he always did to buy beer.

He had alreadycarefully planned out how he would execute the game, making sure that it wouldbe as fair and as just as possible. It was important for it to be those things.He wasn’t merely some killer.Hewasn’t even the one killing them. Thepolice did that. The hardest part was making sure that the website couldn’t betraced back to him, but it was a necessary component of all of this and he’dworked hard on it.

He saw DaveMuldeer leaving his house. The engineer was a younger man, slender and tall,dressed in a hoodie and jeans from which he never managed to wash out all ofthe oil stains. Dave was walking down the street, not paying attention to theworld around him, listening to music as he walked, the way he always did.

This was his chance.

He followed at asafe distance, waiting for the perfect opportunity. He tried to stay far enoughbehind so that he wouldn’t be noticed, but close enough that he could see theengineer clearly.

Dave Muldeerwalked confidently down the street, not realizing that he was about to becomethe latest victim of the hangman’s game.

The engineerturned a corner and disappeared from view. He picked up his pace, making sureto keep the engineer in sight. He watched him walk down the street, his handsin his pockets, completely unaware of what was about to happen to him.

He saw Daveapproach an alleyway and saw his chance. He quickened his pace, taking out aneedle from his pocket. He closed the distance on the engineer in seconds,jabbing the syringe home before Dave Muldeer even had a chance to realize whathad happened.

These were themost dangerous moments, after the sedative had gone in but before it fully tookhold. The engineer turned toward him, trying to work out what was happening.Dave started to lash out but the sedative was already starting to take effectand the blow was clumsy. He held onto Dave then, waiting as the sedative didits work. He caught Dave and walked with him, supporting him as though he werehelping a drunken friend, maneuvering him back toward the waiting van.

It was time forthe game to begin.

CHAPTER TEN

Amber wasn’t surequite where to look for answers.

She, Simon, andDetective Angelique were back in the Westford PD now, working through the listof people who had been connected to accidents as a result of the faulty brakesof the WM 120. They’d been at it for what felt like forever now, working theirway through the people who might have a reason to hate the Westford-Myer MotorCompany.

It was a longlist, and they were no closer to finding a suspect. Amber was gettingfrustrated, feeling like they were not so much hunting for a needle in ahaystack as looking for one specific needle in a box full of similar ones.

“There are toomany people,” she said. Across from her, Simon was working at a computerscreen, checking the information of the people on the list. Francesca was alsoworking on a computer, but she seemed to be looking deeper into theWestford-Myer Motor Company.

“The thingsRichard Myer told us don’t match up with the company’s official line,”Francesca said. “They’ve spun the failure of the brakes as an unfortunate,unforeseeable situation, one they’re working hard to correct. But it’s obviousthat they knew a long time ago what was going on and they didn’t correct theproblem, because it would be too expensive. They only issued the recall afterthe deaths and accidents started piling up.”

Amber could hearthe anger in the detective’s voice. Anger that she could understand. Probably apale shadow of the anger that was driving the killer.

Amber nodded,feeling a knot forming in her stomach. “So, what does that mean for us? Howdoes that help us find the person responsible for the hangings?”

“It means thatwhoever did this had a motive beyond just revenge,” Detective Angelique spokeup. “They were targeting not just those responsible for the faulty brakes, butthe company as a whole. They want to send a message by killing these people,drawing attention to everything that happened with the WM 120.”

They’d takensomething as understandable as anger over the pain Westford-Myer had caused andtaken it further, into deadly realms of revenge that no sane person wouldpursue.

“But who?” Simonasked, frustration clear in his voice. “We have toomanysuspects, withno obvious way of narrowing them down. It could be anyone.”

Amber could onlyagree. They’d been working through the files ever since Richard Myer had sentthem over, but it wasn’t clear what they were looking for.

“There has to besome way into all of this, some way of identifying what we need,” Amber said.Secretly, though, a part of her now suspected that this wasn’t going to be theway they solved this. She was an expert in puzzles, not in grinding down largenumbers of potential suspects to find the one who had committed a crime.

She’d had herdoubts earlier, but she now felt certain that the way they would solve thiswould be through the puzzles. The puzzles had been the way into all herprevious cases. But they hadn’t received any new clues leading to one of thehangman killer’s websites. It was as if the killer had gone silent.

Was it possiblethat he’d achieved everything that he wanted to achieve? Was it possible thathe intended Thomas Jackson and Emily Chen to be his only victims? Amber wasn’tsure that she believed that, although they were two of the more public figuresinvolved in the WM 120 project.

Maybe he was justtaking his time. Maybe he was out there right now, waiting to choose his nextvictim.

“We should call ita day,” Simon said. “We aren’t getting anywhere like this. We should find ahotel and start fresh in the morning.”

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