by Estelle Ryan
“Tell me more about Gabor Szabo.” This case, Olivia and everything else had happened so fast that there had been no time for me to look into the history of the victims. “In serial killer cases, victimology can tell us a lot about the killer.”
“Huh. Okay.” Andor tapped on his phone again and read from the screen. “Well, Gabor Szabo was fifty-three when he died. He was a well-respected psychologist who specialised in PTSD. He left behind his second wife of ten years and two adult children. His first wife died from breast cancer seventeen years ago when his children were still very young. He raised them as a single parent. He got married to wife number two when the first child went to university.” He looked up from his phone. “His children loved his second wife and their sadness was difficult for me to see.”
I nodded and turned my attention back to the photos. “How did he die?”
“In his sleep.” Andor’s tone indicated his scepticism. “At least, that’s what his death certificate says. There wasn’t even an autopsy. Szabo had been suffering from high blood pressure, so when his wife woke up next to his dead body, no one seemed too surprised that he’d had a heart attack.”
“And Ferenc Szell? What was his background?” Colin asked.
Andor tapped his smartphone screen a few times. “He was forty-nine when he died two weeks ago. It would’ve been his birthday next month. He was married, but had no children. He was an architect and together with his wife, who was also an architect, started an architectural firm eighteen years ago. They are quite well-known in Hungary for designing houses and doing interior decorating for the rich and the famous.” He looked at his phone again. “You know the basics about István Koltai and we just met Antal Udvaros.”
“I can do research on all four men with as much detail as possible.” Olivia looked at me. “I’m really good at finding small details and catching anything questionable.”
I nodded. “The more data we have the better.” I turned back to the whiteboard and studied the photos of Gabor Szabo’s bedroom.
“Do you want to see the photos I took of Ferenc Szell’s office?”
I raised an eyebrow when I turned to him. “He died in his office?”
“Yes. His wife said that he would often work until the early morning hours. She didn’t like being alone at home, so he’d work in his home office. She found him there when she went downstairs in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. He’d had flu two weeks before his death and the medical examiner said that combined with his lack of sleep most likely contributed to his heart giving out.”
“The photos?” It was not uncommon for people, especially men, in high-stress careers to develop hypertension and suffer heart attacks at an early age. Often a healthy diet and exercise didn’t negate the effects of stress and sleep deprivation.
I turned my attention to the whiteboard when a new set of photos appeared. I took a step back. How anyone could work in such a cluttered environment was beyond me. Just looking at it in these photos was causing my breathing and heart rate to increase. I pushed Mozart’s Prague Symphony back into my mind and leaned closer to the board.
It took immense concentration for me to see past the stacks of papers, magazines and books placed all over the office on every available surface. Only when I reached the Andante did I manage to take note of everything that was not clutter. I took my time registering everything that could be of possible importance.
“István Koltai’s photos?” I barely glanced at Andor, my eyes not leaving the board while I waited for the next set of photos.
I inspected every photo for any and all details. When I didn’t find anything that stood out, I nodded and was pleased when photos of the scene we’d left earlier appeared on the board. It was just as I’d thought. I rubbed my arms and took a step back. “I want to organise the sets of photos.”
Captain Palya appeared next to me and swiped the side of the board. An option menu appeared. “From here it’s just like a computer. You can toggle between boards and windows, copy photos and create a new board where you can display those.”
I stared at the board. “I don’t want to touch this. I don’t know how clean it is.”
“Then don’t touch it.” Captain Palya’s voice rose and he exhaled noisily. “Or use gloves if you’re so scared you’re going to catch a disease.”
I looked at him in surprise. His lowered brow and flared nostrils confirmed that I’d offended him with my statements. He stomped back to his seat, muttering under his breath in Hungarian. Andor chuckled and offered me a latex glove he’d pulled from his trouser pocket. I shuddered and shook my head.
“I have my own.” I took the individually sealed gloves from my handbag and soon worked the touchscreen of the whiteboard.
One by one I dismissed possible connections while I constantly rearranged the photos. The conversations, speculations and arguments of the others in the room became dull background noise while I got lost in my work. I found the photos that revealed most of each of the rooms the victims had died in and placed them in order.
Oftentimes, my brain would register something of great importance, but it wouldn’t immediately filter through to my cerebral cortex—my thinking brain. I now stood in front of the whiteboard, staring at photos of the four rooms, waiting for that connection to come.
When it did, I jerked and gasped.
“Jenny?” Colin hurried to my side. “What did you find?”
I pointed at the black box under the bedside table in Gabor Szabo’s bedroom. “All of them had wifi boosters from the same company.”
“A lot of people use boosters when they live in larger houses or apartments.” Andor walked closer, frowned and scratched his forehead. “Huh. Well, it’s going to be very hard to believe this is a coincidence.”
“Why?” Colin asked.
“See the broken triangle?” Andor pointed at the logo that had caught my eye at first. The red triangle had rounded corners, of which the bottom right corner didn’t close completely. Andor pointed at the logos on each photo. “Három is a very high-end company. It has the best boosters on the market, but like I told you guys at Antal Udvaros’ house, only the well-off in Hungary can afford that monthly subscription fee. Most people buy boosters that cost a tenth of Három’s price and they do a good enough job.”
Captain Palya cleared his throat. He was looking at an open magazine, the corners of the pages curled from being read a lot. “Here are some stats about Három: They have a thirteen percent market share as opposed to the biggest brand who has seventy-nine percent.”
“Három is the Hungarian word for three.” Andor stared at the magazine in Captain Palya’s hand until the older man jerked it off the table and put it on the floor under his chair.
“Do you have something to say, Garas?”
“Uh, no, sir. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re reading tech magazines.” He nodded at the whiteboard. “You were the only one in the department who volunteered for training on this thing.”
Francine joined in the discussion about technology, wifi boosters and other things that were not going to help us find the person who’d already killed four men. I thought about this some more. We only know about these four men because Andor had considered these deaths suspicious.
What if there were more people? More victims whose deaths had been made to look natural? More victims who had been watched as they’d died?
I looked at Captain Palya. “What do you know about Három’s business practices?”
“Not much.”
“Uh.” Andor raised his hand as if he was a student wanting to ask a question. “I was at school with the owner’s son. We’re still pretty tight.”
“What does that mean?”
“They’re still good friends, love.” Colin took my hand and squeezed it.
This was most fortuitous. “Do you know if their customers have to register the boosters?”
“Yes.” Andor nodded. “I bought one and had to register onl
ine. Even without the top-tiered monthly subscription, all users have to register. It automatically updates the software of the booster and gave me all those security features I mentioned before. It has great antivirus software.”
“Ooh!” Francine clapped her hands. “I know where you’re going with this, girlfriend.”
I ignored her. “We need to compare the list of Három’s clients to all deaths by natural causes in the last five years at least.” I thought about this. “No. Make it ten years.”
Francine pointed at herself and nodded. “I knew it! I knew you were going to say that.”
Manny looked at Andor. “Can you get that client list for us?”
“Yes.” He swiped the screen of his smartphone. “Give me a minute.”
We watched as he left. Colin let go of my hand and walked to Francine’s desk. “How much longer for the photos?”
“I reckon another three to five hours.” She jutted her chin. “I’m going to tweak this program. This is taking far too long. I think it’s using pupillary distance as well as ear shape that’s slowing it down.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. “We might as well go home and get some rest then.”
“And speak to Nikki,” Vinnie said from the doorway. “She SMSed me to say they arrived safely and that Pink is already settled in his room. He also wants to be in on the video chat.”
I’d become familiar with the emotion that was now tightening my chest. It was a combination of concern, relief, happiness and love. I frequently experienced this with Nikki. Since Eric had joined us, I experienced it even more frequently and with more intensity. Now that Vinnie had mentioned a video call with Nikki, the photos on the whiteboard and the case lost some of their interest.
Andor walked past Vinnie into the room. “I spoke to my friend’s dad. He’s at the airport in London and will be home later this evening. He said that I’ll have the complete list in my inbox before six tomorrow morning.”
“Why are you concerned?” It was evident around his eyes and mouth.
Andor shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you seeing everything.” His smile was self-deprecating. “I’m just a bit concerned because my friend’s dad told me that he’s putting his name and his company’s future at risk giving me a list with all their clients’ names and information. This kind of data is gold for every company. If clients aren’t convinced that their information is safe with a company, especially a tech company, the company will lose their reputation and will also lose customers.”
“You’re having him send it to a secure email address?” Francine asked.
“Of course.”
“And your computer is secure?” She giggled when he glared at her. “I take that as a yes. Well, then you and Három’s owner have nothing to worry about. We’re only going to use that information to find a serial killer, not to hack them or anything.”
“Enough of that.” Manny sliced through the air with his hand. “Don’t talk about hacking with a smile on your face like that.”
Francine laughed. “They don’t have anything I want, so I don’t need or want to hack them. Yet.”
Manny scowled and shook his head. “Let’s pack up and go home. We can get back to this in the morning.”
It took another six minutes before we left the large room. As much as I wanted to work the case, I knew we needed to wait for the results on the photos as well as the client list. And I had a video call with Nikki to look forward to. The forty-minute drive from Budapest to the villa felt extremely long, so I closed my eyes, mentally finished playing Mozart’s Prague Symphony and analysed everything we had discovered so far.
Chapter THIRTEEN
“Are you sure that you’re sure?” Despite the ridiculousness of the question, there was no doubt that Francine was completely serious. She didn’t even respond to the flirtatious smile the officer on duty gave her when we showed our ID badges to enter the restricted area of the police station.
I exhaled in irritation and didn’t bother to modify my tone. “I told you last night and twice this morning that the nonverbal cues Nikki and Pink displayed last night gave no indication of deceit.”
“So when Pink said the physio told him if he continues like this, he would probably run a marathon next year, he wasn’t lying?” She raised one eyebrow at Manny when he huffed in annoyance. Vinnie and Colin were behind us in the hallway, discussing the security measures they’d increased at the villa now that Olivia and Roxy were staying there for the day.
I thought back to the video call last night. It had been half an hour later than we’d originally arranged on account of Roxy insisting that everyone joined the conversation. I’d been extremely displeased. I was not flexible. Any change in my schedule caused such disruption in my mind that it was hard to focus on anything except the delay or cancellation.
All that had disappeared when I’d seen Nikki’s genuine happiness when the video call had connected. At once, I’d been overwhelmed by a combination of relief and intense longing. Especially when I’d seen Eric snuggling on Pink’s lap. Eric had been wearing the super-hacker onesie Francine had bought him and had gurgled happily when he’d heard my voice.
Pink had looked the most relaxed I’d seen him since he’d been injured earlier this year. He’d laughed at Roxy’s jokes, kissed Eric’s head numerous times and threatened Vinnie with a humiliating loss when they next played Drestia. He’d boasted about the free time he’d put to use practicing his skills at this game.
Everyone had been relieved to see Pink in such a positive frame of mind. Except Francine. That deep worry was evident on her face as she looked at me. I sighed. I felt most inadequate at comforting people. I cleared my throat. “Pink was truthful. As was Nikki when you asked them repeatedly if Pink was okay.”
Francine stopped and stared at me for a few seconds, then took a shaky breath. “Okay.”
We were about two metres from the entrance to Captain Palya’s office. Francine pulled her shoulders back, flipped her hair back and nodded with a determined smile. Manny whispered something in her ear which made her eyes widen. Then she winked at him, her posture much more relaxed, her smile genuine.
“What are we waiting for?” Vinnie raised an eyebrow. “Is the old man having problems keeping up with you gals?”
“Put a sock in it, big guy.” Manny grabbed Francine’s hand and marched into Captain Palya’s office. I followed.
The captain and Andor were standing in front of the whiteboard, looking at a list. Captain Palya glared at the door and scowled when no one else came in. “Where’s Olivia Webster?”
“Well, good morning to you too.” Francine winked at Captain Palya and smiled at Andor before she put her laptop on one of the desks.
“I see you got the art from Antal Udvaros’ house.” Colin walked to the stacked paintings leaning against the wall behind Captain Palya’s chair.
“It’s cluttering up my workspace.” The captain pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and muttered something in Hungarian which made Andor snort. “I don’t know why we need it here.”
“Because it’s bloody evidence.” Manny lifted his chin towards the paintings, then looked at Colin. “Something interesting there?”
“Give me a moment.” Colin tilted the frames one by one, looking at the art. He inhaled sharply when he saw a large impressionist landscape and reacted similarly with two other paintings. He inspected all fifteen paintings, then straightened. “We have a Monet, a Picasso and the Pollock that we saw earlier.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny pointed at the paintings. “Find out if there’s anything iffy about them, Frey.”
Colin nodded, his expression telling me he was already thinking about researching these artworks.
“Where is Ms Webster?” Captain Palya looked at me, his expression fierce.
Colin took a step forward, pushing his shoulder half in front of me. “She’s at the villa. We had a long discussion last night
and decided it is best that she keeps a low profile. We made contact with her husband last night and arranged for a secure video call later today when it’s morning in New York.”
Francine had helped Olivia last night to phone her husband as well as her boss to let them know that she was unharmed and safe. Neither call lasted longer than thirty seconds. Francine had then used one of the many brand-new smartphones she’d found in Émile’s office to set up a video call app that would be secure. In a second call to her husband, Olivia had instructed him to buy a burner phone and upload the same app. That call had also lasted less than thirty seconds.
Roxy had rubbed her hands in glee and giggled while she said it felt like she was in a James Bond movie. I hadn’t even attempted to stop myself from informing Roxy how improbable most of the feats in those films were, a few completely impossible. She’d giggled even more and I’d left the room.
“I was the one insisting she stay out of sight,” Francine said over her shoulder as she typed commands into her laptop. “I’ve been thinking about this killer and the way he cyberstalked Olivia. He’s good. Really good. I wouldn’t put it past him to find a way to access city cameras and run a facial recognition program to find her. As it is, he knows she’s in Hungary. I think it’s better if she stays out of sight for a while.”
“Makes sense.” Captain Palya lifted his chin towards Francine’s computer. “Talking about facial recognition software, do you have results on your search?”
“Oh, do I ever.” She typed a command and the list on the whiteboard was replaced with eight photos. “Grandpas Szabo, Szell and Koltai were quite the party animals, I’ll have you know. They were in”—she looked at her laptop monitor—“three hundred and fifty-two photos. All three of them. At the same time.”
“Anyone else?”
“Two others.” She got up and pointed at a short man with wire-rim glasses and fine features. “This is Grandpa Udvaros. He is in three hundred and twenty-one of the photos with the first three.” She pointed at an overweight man with a thin moustache and ruddy cheeks. “This is János Nagy. He’s in three hundred and eleven photos with the first three. All five of them were in three hundred and seven photos together. Then there are other combinations of these men, but no one else appears as frequently together as these five.”