Page 5 of Girl, Empty (Ella Dark #27)

It was really happening. Ella sat in the leather chair she’d sat in countless times while Director Edis had given her her orders, and now she was doing it for her final time. William Edis was leaving the FBI.

‘Wow,’ Ripley said beside her. ‘I’m gutted.’

‘Don’t be.’ Edis placed his hands on his desk and smoothed it out, like he was prepping it for his successor. ‘I’ve reached the ten-year limit, and the Bureau is in a better place now than when I started. That’s as much as I can ask for.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Ella asked.

Edis shrugged. The man was usually coiled like a spring, but his shoulders had slumped in a way she’d never seen before.

This was what happened when you were relieved of your duties, she guessed.

‘I can’t work within the Bureau anymore, but there are other options.

The CIA, the MOD. I might even go back to Chicago PD. ’

‘The world’s your oyster,’ Ripley said. ‘When’s your last day?’

‘Whenever the new director is ready to be sworn in. It will happen fast, within 24 hours, then there’ll be a massive turnover. Everyone from Deputy Director Marshall’s level up will be replaced. The new government have their favorites, and we’re not part of them.’

This was big. Ella was yet to see a full changing of the guard at the Bureau, and word has it that it usually stirred things up. ‘Do you know who’s replacing you, sir?’

Edis laughed. ‘So eager to get rid of me, Miss Dark?’

‘Absolutely not. I’ll miss you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Even if you were a pain in the ass,’ she added. If there was ever a time to be honest with the director, now was it. Hell, she could probably pull his pants down and still have a job tomorrow.

‘Yes I was, and I’m glad you finally said it to my face. As for your question, no replacement has been announced yet. It will be one of the president’s buddies, so be wary of that.’

‘Roger.’

‘I don’t know any Roger.’ Edis grabbed two brown folders off his desk and held them up, like he was about to ask Ella to choose one. ‘Anyway, with that, I have one final request for you both. I’m sure you know what I’m about to ask.’

He slid the folders over and the agents took one each. There was a stencil in the top right corner that said: CASE: 131469, INDIANAPOLIS, IN.

Ripley asked, ‘This is your parting gift, Will? A murder case?’

‘No. My parting gifts are over there.’ Edis pointed to two bouquets of roses on his liquor cabinet. ‘One for each of you. This is just a bonus.’

‘You shouldn’t have.’

‘I’m afraid I had to. I might be on countdown but I’m still on the job. Long story short, we’ve got a very strange situation in central Indianapolis, and honestly I’ve never seen anything like it. Please take a look.’

Ella opened the folder and scanned the police report on top.

The basics were straightforward enough: one victim, Michael Rankin, 38, stabbed in the chest in his office at Morrison & Associates.

The Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department had responded to a 911 call at 00:38 on January 18.

The caller had been the building’s security guard.

‘Single stab wound to the chest,’ Ella read aloud as she moving down the page. ‘No defensive wounds. No signs of struggle.’

Ripley rifled through her own folder. ‘Workplace murder. The stats suggest it was a colleague.’

‘Time of death between midnight and half past.’

‘That’s a pretty narrow period of time. Surely police could condense it down based on that alone. Who else is gonna be in an office like this at that time?’

Ella flipped to the first crime scene photo in the pile. It showed Michael Rankin face-down on a hardwood floor. A pool of blood spread out in every direction. The office around him looked immaculate. Not a paper out of place nor a chair overturned.

She stared at the photo and did what she always did when confronted with crime scene images.

She took a moment to acknowledge the person who'd been alive just hours before this photo was taken. He’d gone to work that day – or evening – and busied himself with trivial things.

He'd adjusted his tie, chosen which shoes to wear, grabbed his coffee on the way out.

All the small, meaningless decisions that make up a life, not knowing it was his last day making them.

‘Suicide?’ Ripley butted in. ‘You know what these city boy investor types are like.’

‘Who stabs themselves to death? And where’s the murder weapon?’

‘Could have ditched it out of the window. Or hidden it before he died. Maybe he thought he could frame someone for murder.’

‘You’re reaching, Mia.’

‘Fair point.’ Ripley moved on to the next set of documents. ‘Morrison & Associates. Never heard of them.’

Edis said, ‘They’re a forensic accounting firm. One of the biggest in the country, and Indianapolis is their headquarters.’

Ella continued flipping through the crime scene photos and found more of the same. Close-ups of Michael Rankin’s body, close-ups of the blood trail – and not much else. She leafed through the police report again and found that Michael Rankin was the only victim.

‘Sir, this might sound like a weird question, but why is this a Bureau matter? There’s only one victim, and it’s not an ultra-violent crime.’

‘I’m glad you asked, and the reason is twofold. Number one, Michael Rankin was working with our Financial Crimes Section on a case of money laundering, so he’s got connections to the Bureau.’

‘Okay,’ said Ripley. ‘And number two?’

‘Look at the photos.’

‘I have, and I agree with Dark. This is not federal responsibility.’

Ella scanned the documents again and frowned.

Something was missing. She flipped back through the police report, the crime scene inventory, the initial investigator's notes. In a modern office building, especially one housing a major forensic accounting firm, there should be eyes everywhere, even at midnight. ‘Wait. Where’s the CCTV? A place like this should be teeming with security.’

Ripley caught on immediately and began rifling through her own folder. ‘Yeah. There's nothing here about security cameras. No stills, no footage logs, nothing.’

‘That’s why this is a federal investigation,’ Edis said, ‘because the cameras show nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ Ripley looked up from her folder. ‘What do you mean, nothing?’

‘I mean they show nothing. Black screens. Static. For thirty minutes. It all just went dark, and when they came back on, Michael Rankin was dead.’

Ella’s pulse began to race. ‘Surely that’s not possible. A place this size must have redundancies, separate power sources. The killer would need to know-’

‘Exactly how the building was designed,’ Edis interrupted. ‘Every vulnerability, access point, failsafe, you name it. And he’d need the technical capability to exploit all of them simultaneously.’

‘Wow.’

‘And that’s not all. The building has three security measures between the lobby and the fortieth floor, which means that no one should have been able to get in or out of this building without something registering on the system.

Police have checked it and… nothing. The only way in or out of that fortieth floor office was through a window, so unless our perp has wings, you ladies have some work to do. ’

A tingle spread from Ella’s lower back up to her skull. It was that sudden electricity, or what she’d come to think of as a hook. Someone had walked into a fortress of a building, bypassed multiple security systems, killed a man and vanished like smoke – all without appearing on any cameras.

She felt the pull to know how, but the feeling was instantly tainted with guilt.

Her case – the one that mattered – was Ben’s death. This wasn’t his killer and this case wasn’t justice. She looked from the folder to Edis, and her answer caught in her throat.

But when had defying Edis ever gotten her anywhere? And since this was her retirement gift, she had to do the job.

‘We’re on it, sir.’

Edis clasped his hands together in prayer. ‘Agent Ripley. Will you do this last request for me?’

‘The last one? Ever?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

Ripley smiled. ‘I’ve never said no to you before, Will, and I’m not going to start now. Consider this my parting gift.’

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you. There’s a flight to Indiana in an hour. You can leave your flowers here. I’ll water them while you’re gone.’

Ella stood and tucked the folder under her arm. One more trip with Ripley as a consultant. One more request fulfilled for Edis before presumably everything changed. Very soon there’d be a new nameplate on the door, and that brought new priorities and new politics.

But for now, they had a job to do.

‘We won’t let you down.’

Ripley was already at the door. ‘Come on Dark, I’ll drive us to the airport.’

They were almost out when Edis's voice stopped them.

‘Agent Dark? Could I speak with you for a moment? In private?’

Ella turned back, catching Ripley's curious glance. ‘Of course.’

‘Meet you in the elevator, Dark,’ said Ripley.

Ella stood there, folder in hand, watching her soon-to-be former boss move back behind his desk. Whatever he wanted to say, it wasn’t something he was willing to share with Ripley, and that alone made her nervous.