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“Is it time to talkto the press?” Amber asked. “We need to find something, anything that can leadus to Steven Boon.”
“And have everyonein Westford running around playing hunt the serial killer?” Francesca shotback. It was obvious how little she liked that idea. “There’s more of a chanceof innocent people getting hurt than us getting real information.”
Amber wasn’t sosure. Maybe it was just because she’d worked on a newspaper, but she understoodthe power that media coverage could have in a case. After all, the first caseshe’d worked on with Simon had been because of a public appeal that the policehad made for help with a puzzle. One that it turned out Amber had been able tosolve.
Simon seemed to bethinking the same way.
“Amber might havea point,” he said, looking up from his computer. “We need to get peopletalking, get them aware of what’s going on. Maybe someone saw something thatthey didn’t think was important before. If we make it clear that Boon isdangerous, and that people shouldn’t approach him, maybe we’ve reached thepoint where getting his image out there is better than keeping the informationto ourselves.”
Francesca gave asigh of frustration. “Fine,” she said. “But let’s be careful with this. We don’twant to create a panic or give away too much information.”
Amber nodded inagreement, although she couldn’t help noticing that Francesca had only agreedonce Simon suggested it. “I’ll start drafting something up for a press release.Maybe we can hold a press conference with some of the local reporters to getthe word out.”
“Good idea,” Simonsaid. “But remember to run it by me and Francesca before you send anything out.We need to be careful with this.”
Amber nodded. Sheknew they had to be careful, but at this point, they couldn’t afford to sitback and wait for something to happen. They needed to take action, and thatmeant—
“Hey, DetectiveAngelique,” one of the uniformed officers in the department said. “Did you getthat mail that got dropped off for you?”
“What mail?”Francesca asked.
“I dropped it onyour desk. It was addressed to you personally.”
Amber sawFrancesca frown at that, then hurry over to her desk. She’d been in theinterrogation room since she got back to the station, so she hadn’t had achance to even go over there.
She snatched anenvelope up from her desk, tearing it open, then stared at the contents inobvious horror.
“Why didn’tsomeone call me the moment this came in?” Francesca demanded. She held up apiece of paper with another web address on it.
There was noanswer from the police officers around her, but Amber could guess at theanswer: this one had been addressed to her personally rather than delivered tothe department as a whole by courier. It had been ignored in the chaos of themanhunt.
Amber took thepaper from the detective’s hand, not even thinking about forensics right then.Theyknewwho the killer was. What mattered was that he’d taken anothervictim. Now, all that mattered was going to the website, solving the game ofhangman there, and trying to get to the victim in time.
Amber swallowedback her fear at the thought of that. It didn’t matter right then that she’dfailed last time. All that mattered was that there was someone out there whoneeded her help. Someone who might already be feeling the noose tighten aroundtheir neck, since the delay in getting the message had cost them precious time.
The three of themcrowded around Amber’s computer as she typed in the web address. The websitewas dark and sinister, with a black background and white text. Boon seemed tohave gotten more extravagant with his design. In the middle of the screen was alarge gallows with a stick figure dangling from it. Underneath it was a messagewritten in capital letters: “PLAY THE GAME AND SAVE A LIFE.”
Amber already knewthe rules of the game. Blank spaces were set out below. When she typed letters,correct guesses would appear to fill the spaces. Each guess would cause thewinch connected to the site to tighten the cable noose around a victim’s neck.Incorrect ones would tighten it more.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The long line ofdashes waiting to be filled in was intimidating, but not nearly as intimidatingas the thought of what would happen if Amber got this wrong. She’d alreadyfailed once, after all.
Simon put a handon Amber’s shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. He obviously knew what shewas thinking about.
“Are you okay?”
“I… after lasttime, I’m not even sure if I can do this,” Amber said. “We’ve already losttime.”
“That just meansthat we need to come up with an answer more quickly,” Simon said. “And there isno one with skills better suited to this than you. Come on, put the firstletter in. E is likely to be there, right?”
It was the mostcommon letter in English, so there was a good chance.
Francesca noddedin agreement. “Let’s do this. We’ll help you, Amber. Trust me, your lastattempt was faster than anyone else here could have managed.”
Taking a deep breath,Amber began to type in letters, one by one. There was indeed an “E.” There wasalso an “A” and an “I.”
“That double ‘E’there,” Simon said. “Could that be the word ‘street’?”
