“No.” She looked away. “He didn’t say a thing.”
Chapter 22
Nina surveyed the pinched faces in Boston’s Emergency Operations Center. Frustration suffused the room. After being treated at the scene by paramedics while an evidence tech collected nail scrapings, she’d filled out paperwork for discharging her weapon as the search for the Cipher proceeded without her.
Relegated to the sidelines as Boston police, Massachusetts state troopers, and federal agents fanned out in a citywide dragnet, she’d been more than willing to report to the EOC with Delaney after completing a preliminary statement.
The vast space was packed with state-of-the-art technology. Jumbo screens covered an entire wall, split video feeds juxtaposed in a patchwork of camera angles, offering simultaneous views of different parts of the city. Officials and civilians manned a row of terminals, taking in an assortment of information from a variety of sources.
The general buzz in the hive of activity was interrupted by a shrill voice from one of the civilians seated in front of a glowing screen along the side wall.
“I’ve got something.”
Nina swiveled to see a statuesque woman with long brown hair scraped back into a bun.
“We pulled the ShotSpotter video,” she said, fairly bouncing in her chair. She slid the mouse around on a pad beside the keyboard, clicked, then pointed at the enormous wall screen. “Look at this.”
Multiple feeds consolidated into a single view showing the Cipher race into the frame and direct a rushing stampede of police toward the alley where Nina lay semiconscious.
“Watch what he does next.” Excitement tinged the Boston PD video tech’s voice.
The Cipher sprinted down the street and darted around a corner, where another camera picked him up. The tech had spliced the footage together before presenting it, creating a timeline of the unsub’s escape. Nina watched with the others as he dodged traffic crossing the street, then proceeded down the walkway on the other side at a more sedate pace, presumably to avoid drawing attention. He slowed and came to a stop in front of a manhole cover in the middle of the sidewalk. He hiked up the hem of his jacket, exposing his waistband.
Nina squinted to see his hands, which were hastily working something loose. At first, she thought he was fumbling with a bulky belt buckle, then realized that a heavy-duty chain encircled his waist, held together by a large steel hook. A moment later, he unhooked the link and pulled the chain through his belt loops.
“What the hell is he doing?” Kent put the question to the room at large.
The Cipher bent and slipped the hook through a hole near the edge of the manhole cover. He straightened and wrapped the chain around his right hand twice, then used his left to grasp the links in a two-handed grip. In one swift motion, he bent his knees and tugged the cover aside, exposing the dark round opening leading down into the sewer system.
“No way,” a BPD lieutenant said. “Those covers are made of cast iron. They weigh over two hundred pounds.”
Nina wasn’t surprised. She knew this was well within the Cipher’s abilities.
Passersby seemed to pay no attention to a Public Works employee in a yellow vest climbing down into a sewer. Seconds after his head disappeared, the chain snaked down into the hole as he pulled it inside. With a series of jerking movements, the metal cover slid closed, effectively completing the Cipher’s vanishing act. Nina marveled at his ingenuity.
“Clever sonofabitch,” Wade muttered. “That whole maneuver took him maybe twenty seconds.”
“He came prepared,” the BPD lieutenant said, then turned to his tech. “Let’s see if we can catch him on video scoping out his escape route and that manhole cover ahead of time. I also want to know where he comes out.”
She nodded and sat back down in front of her terminal.
“He’s meticulous and strategic,” Kent said. “I’ll bet he had multiple escape routes planned ahead of time.”
Wade spoke loudly enough for the whole room to hear. “That’s important to keep in mind going forward. If we get close to cornering this guy, we should expect him to have several bolt holes. Some of them might even be booby-trapped.” He directed his gaze at the BPD brass in the room. “In fact, anyone going into that sewer should be careful. The unsub might have set up a nasty surprise to slow down any pursuers.”
Deputy Superintendent Tyson, who had been introduced as the ranking BPD member present in the facility, acknowledged him with a quick nod. “I’ll let my officers and the city workers know.”
“How far can he go in the sewage system?” Buxton asked him.
“The combined water and sewage system has over a thousand manholes and goes all over the city.” Tyson shrugged. “There’s no telling where he popped out, but we’ll start scanning the downtown camera system.”
Buxton continued to address Tyson. “In the meantime, did you get confirmation on the ID of the latest victim?”
Tyson signaled a sergeant, who moved to the video control panel as he responded. “We forwarded a crime scene photo to our Crimes Against Children Unit. One of the CACU detectives recognized the victim. Her name is Denise Glover. Goes by Neecy. Fifteen years old.”
An image popped up on the screen as Tyson finished. The picture, obviously from a high school yearbook, showed a slender girl who looked young for her age. Or perhaps the oversize glasses making her brown eyes look owlish and the pink ribbons in her dark curly hair had that effect.
Buxton turned to Wade. “We’ve got three victims now: first Hispanic, then white, now black. What does that say about the Cipher?”
Before answering his boss, Wade glanced at Tyson. “What do we know about Neecy?”
“Comes from a broken home. Chronic runaway.” Tyson checked his notes. “Last time her foster mother saw her was over a week ago.”
“That’s his message,” Wade said to Buxton as if the information from Tyson confirmed something he’d already suspected. “The Cipher doesn’t care what they look like or where they come from. He doesn’t see them as individuals, as human beings—only as a type.”
“And that type is?”
“Some of society’s most vulnerable individuals. Teenage girls who are either temporarily or permanently without a family.”
Recalling the messages she had exchanged with the Cipher online, Nina dropped her voice so only Wade could hear. “Like I was when he found me.”
He gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She decided to change the subject, channel her growing anger toward hunting the Cipher.
“What about the clue in the envelope?” she asked Tyson. “What have we heard from the detectives checking out the Paul Revere House and the Old North Church?”
The reference to the signal used by the patriots had been nagging at her. One if by land, two if by sea. A real-life code. Is that what had made the Cipher mention it?
“We got zilch,” Tyson said. “The investigators enlisted the help of docents and went through every square inch of both landmarks. Nothing missing, nothing left behind, no sign of any disturbance.”
“Throwing us off the trail?” she said, then caught herself. “No pun intended.”
"Hold on a sec," Tyson said, suddenly excited. "The restaurant where the body was found is called Silversmith's."