Some of the lights came from the emergency vehicles parked around the dusty stone, lights buzzing.
Adele felt the butterflies in her stomach twist as she and Agent Leoni beat a hasty exit from their vehicle, clambering out of the front seat and stumbling through the crowds of gawkers and watchers and news folk. They moved between the sawhorses, through a row of police, keeping the crowds at bay.
Adele heard loud shouted questions in languages she didn’t understand. Leoni seemed unperturbed by the noise and moved quietly along next to her, eyes set ahead on the Parthenon itself—the purported scene of the crime.
Adele listened as Leoni rattle off something in what sounded like perfect Greek to the patrol officer who had led their escort. She blinked, trying not to let her surprise show. How many languages exactly did this guy know?
Leoni frowned as the Greek policeman replied. After a moment, the handsome Italian glanced back at Adele, moving through the media storm. He waited until they were well past the sawhorses, and the blockade against the public, before whispering, “They had to take the body down.”
Adele’s expression curdled into a scowl, as she regarded him. She paused for a minute next to the tall, twisting marble columns. Matching his volume, she said, “What? We didn’t even get to check the scene.”
Leoni winced. He waved a hand toward the Greek officer next to him. “He says the order came from above.” Leoni then waved a hand toward the gathered media. “Too many eyes. They had to.”
Adele cursed as she followed the Greek officer further into the Parthenon, and came to a halt. The area was cordoned off with crime scene tape. There were already other officers, with evidence bags, combing the scene. Latex gloves and dainty sidesteps did little to assuage her frustration at how many people were already there. She glanced up, and some of her frustration faded to another emotion. A single noose from thick, dark rope dangled from the column above. Two hooked wires angled past the looped rope.
Leoni translated the Greek officer’s words. “The body was posed with the hooks as well,” he said. “It looked like he was praying, according to the first responders.”
Adele didn’t answer, shaking her head as she moved around. She glanced to her phone at the file she’d been sent from the preliminary report. As she expected, the same MO. No foreseeable connection to the other victims. Adele glanced around. They were in the Parthenon. A temple to Athena the virgin. High place was literally a translation of Acropolis according to Leoni. The riddle seemed so obvious now. She glanced at her partner. “Did they find anything? Another riddle?”
Leoni repeated the question to the officer, and he shook his head. Adele’s scowl darkened. This didn’t seem to fit with the MO. She began to move around the scene cautiously. Other agents’ eyes were combing the ground. She spotted a speckling of crimson beneath the noose, likely caused by the wired hooks used to pose the body.
She shivered as she moved, wondering at the victim. The file had said he was a security guard here. Nothing more. No connections to the other victims. No connections to the other locations.
Just a poor security guard caught on the job. Were these victims of opportunity? Maybe the killer didn’t care who he killed. This made things much worse. A killer with a type was easier to trap in a corner. A killer who murdered indiscriminately, though… only seemed intent on spectacle.
Even from within the cordoned area, at the heart of the Parthenon, she could hear the shouts and hubbub from the media and gawkers beyond. As Adele maneuvered around the crime scene, she glanced up toward the noose.
No riddle. That didn’t make sense. Not unless the killer was calling it quits. But that didn’t sit right, either. This killer didn’t seem like the sort to back down now. He had a message he was trying to communicate. A temple of Athena, a cathedral, and a chapel. All of them with religious connotation. Perhaps not the same religion. But all of them still hearkening to the faithful. Not only that, but all of them tourist spots. Famous, in separate countries.
“Come on,” she murmured to herself. Everyone was still moving around the ground. The body had been taken down, but the noose left up. “It’s going to be tucked under the rope,” she said.
Leoni had joined her in her quiet circuit of the Parthenon.
“Excuse me?”
“The next riddle, it’s going to be tucked under the rope.”
Leoni looked at her, but then shrugged. He gestured toward the Greek officer and relayed a series of instructions. Adele and Leoni waited as the officer hurried over toward the noose. A few moments later, a ladder was procured; likely the same ladder used to lower the body. And then she watched as they reoriented the noose and allowed themselves to untie the rope from the column. The moment they did, she spotted a thin sheet of paper fall from where it had been folded multiple times and wedged against the pillar.
Leoni whistled softly. “Good call,” he murmured.
Adele felt a small surge of satisfaction, but struggled not to let it display. One of the Greek officers bent over, but just as he was picking up the paper, Adele cleared her throat, her shadow cast across his hand. The officer nodded sheepishly and handed her the note. Adele opened it, revealing typeset writing on yellowish pad paper, and read the next riddle.
Round eyes in round hands,
my longing for you has grown,
Squares in circles once,
My heart is cast in stone
“Anything stand out?” Leoni asked.
Adele read it again. And gritted her teeth. “Round eyes…” she murmured. Everyone had eyes—how did that help? The longing grown? Perhaps a garden? Some forest? Something with growing things? Squares in circles… She frowned again. Round… circles… Perhaps the repetition was intentional. Something like castle walls? Or the windows on an old ship, circular in form?
She murmured the last line once more, “My heart is cast in stone…” For a moment she paused in thought, rereading the riddle. But then she huffed in frustration. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s vague. I’m sure we’ll know when the next body drops.” She folded the paper, tucking it delicately into an evidence bag before taking a photo of the text. She handed this off to the Greek officer and then regarded Leoni once more with a resigned sigh. “If we want to get ahead of this, I don’t think it’s gonna be in the riddles.”
Leoni nodded, and to his credit, didn’t try to snag the envelope from her. But once she’d seared the words into her brain, he extended a hand, patiently, and she allowed him to take the riddle and read it as well.
Again, they made a circuit of the Parthenon, glancing toward the teams scouring the crime scene. What were they expecting to find?
No, Adele didn’t think the killer would’ve been so careless to leave behind hair fibers or some personal item. She wasn’t convinced this was anything but a smart killer. Perhaps smarter than any she’d faced.
“You know how they say psychopaths tend to have a higher IQ?” she said.
Leoni didn’t reply, but nodded to show he was listening.
“This guy seems particularly taken with his smarts. The locations he’s picking, the confidence in his murders, the riddles. He’s convinced he’s smarter than us.”
Leoni waited, then said, “Is he?”