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They were the same marks, the same tangles of triangles and lines.

“Knox and Yates, if there’s a connection between these murders and the cases you’ve just solved, and that is our working theory, then no one at the Bureau knows more about this case than you two do.” Journey offered an ironic smile. “Sorry you drew the short straw here.”

Hagen pulled his chair closer. “I’m assuming you’ve read our reports.”

“I have.” Tysen twirled her pen in her fingers. She had long fingernails that she’d painted a glossy lime color, a suggestion of a fun life outside the office. “You did good work. They were a couple of tough cases. What turned you on to the killer in Nashville?”

“Late breakthrough. An informant in Pennsylvania mentioned something that helped us put two and two together.”

“Lucky you’re good at math. The file mentioned a Dispatch group. You ever get into that thing?”

Mac spoke up for the first time. “Not yet. I’ve been trying to find a way into that group for weeks.

Invitations are harder to land than tickets to a Taylor Swift concert.

I’ve reached out to Dispatch’s front office to try to find a back door into the group through them.

But they’ve been stonewalling me. Privacy issues, they said. ”

Tysen tapped a green fingernail against her desk.

“Keep trying. And let’s keep the pressure on Tyra Scharf.

Maybe she can be convinced to give us access.

” She dropped her pen. “While all the victims share the same basic set of four cuneiform characters, some of the victims have even more and different cuneiform characters carved into them.”

Hagen sighed. “So we’re talking about lots of different killers in lots of different places who are perhaps using different reference points.”

“Clearly. But all seem motivated by the same thing. Whatever that is.”

Stella twisted her ear stud. They had to find whoever was behind this group, the monster inspiring the murders.

“It’s an escalation. Something is driving these murders.

We need to find out what it is and, most importantly, who’s behind the wheel.

Because whoever it is, they haven’t gone away.

” She thought for a minute. “Can you bring up that last murder again? The one in Pennsylvania.”

The picture of the corpse hanging upside down appeared. Stella studied the stab wounds and the lines of blood running down the victim’s washboard abs. The familiar wide gash across the neck. And the markings carved into the chest.

“Can you zoom in on the man’s right shoulder?”

“I can try. Let’s see.”

Instead of growing larger, though, the victim shrank, giving Stella a strange sense of relief, as though she were being sucked out of the frame, pulled away from this crime. She was happy to see it recede into the distance.

Tysen tapped at her keyboard again. “Sorry.”

The picture returned and zoomed in until the image focused on the marks that ran across the victim’s shoulder, cut into the man’s flesh. Stella was no longer looking at a corpse. She was now facing a puzzle, a clue that might just lead them to the killer.

During the last two cases, Stella had spent hours thinking about this strange writing. Made up of what looked like sets of arrows pointing in one direction and crossed by another set pointing in another, cuneiform was used for millennia. First as pictograms, then as a kind of alphabet.

Before this year, Stella had never thought about it before. Now she’d seen and studied this ancient alphabet far too much.

One symbol caught her attention—a particularly complex mixture of arrows, with a couple pointing down but most pointing to the right. The lines were grouped widely and in clumps, pairs, and threes.

She tilted her head and squinted. “What’s that? I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”

“Wish I could tell you. That’s why we’ve brought in an expert. I see he’s in the waiting room now.” Tysen pushed a button on her keyboard.

The man who filled the new square on their screen had pale skin, tight curls that started above a receding hairline, and wide, owlish eyes. In his tweed jacket and baggy corduroy pants, the man reminded Stella of Werner, Mac’s boyfriend, an anthropology doctoral student in Nashville.

“This is Dr. Guy Lacross. Knox, Yates, I think you’ve spoken before.” Tysen smiled. “He’s calling in from Chicago to give us a hand.”

Stella recognized the name. Werner had introduced them when they were working the case in Pennsylvania. They hadn’t met in person, but they’d spoken over the phone. Guy had helped them make sense of one of the strangest cases they’d ever encountered.

Hagen waved. “Nice to finally put a face to the name, Dr. Lacross. We really appreciated your help. Couldn’t have made any sense of that case at all without you.”

Guy returned the greeting. “Call me Guy. And happy to help. Really. Usually, I spend my days grading student essays, teaching, or translating cuneiform grain receipts. It’s rare to see my field come alive.”

“Guy’s been trying to help us identify the translator of the cuneiform tablet you two mentioned in your report.” Tysen picked up her pen and turned it end over end between her fingers.

“That tablet was published online,” Stella pointed out. “Is the translator that hard to find?”

“The translation wasn’t in any peer-reviewed journal.” Guy pushed his curls up with his hand as though pulling an idea out of his head. “A partial translation appeared online anonymously. But no one’s seen the original tablet, so there’s no way to know if the translation is even accurate.”

“Maybe there isn’t a tablet. Maybe whoever put the translation online just made it up.” Stella had dealt with enough psychos to know that sometimes they pulled ideas out of thin air.

“It’s possible but seems unlikely.” Guy tugged at his hair again. “Whoever wrote the post clearly knows the language. You’d need to have read and translated a lot of ancient tablets to get that kind of phrasing down. It certainly came from someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Tysen frowned. “And how many people would have that kind of expertise?”

“I can think of at least a dozen off the top of my head. A bunch of professors, adjuncts, some grad students, museum curators, and a few people who work at archeological institutes. I can look into their interests and try to narrow down the options. Try to come up with a list.”

“So you’re suggesting that whoever translated this also has something to do with the murders?” Tysen asked.

“It’s possible.”

Stella spotted something new. “Can we return to the previous image? Where we zoomed in on the cuneiform on the most recent Pennsylvania victim’s shoulder?”

Tysen nodded, and the image on their screen changed back.

Stella was sure she’d never seen this particular one before. “ What about that mark? Do you recognize it? I don’t remember seeing it on any of the other victims.”

Guy cleared his throat before responding.

“It’s unusual. There are a few symbols that are rarely used.

That looks like one of them, though it might just be badly written.

If it’s right, it’s pronounced something like ji-bil with a soft G , and it means ‘new.’ But there are more common terms. You’re right about not seeing it before.

It wasn’t on the original transcription of the tablet published online. ”

The screen changed back to the agents in their squares.

Stella nodded. “Maybe it comes from a different tablet. That would be good. Two tablets could help us triangulate the translator. We’d just need to find someone who’s worked on tablets with both this symbol and the original marks.”

“Or like I said, it might just be badly drawn.” Guy scratched the top of his head.

He looked lost in thought. “It’s a complex form, easily miswritten.

But try Professor Andrew Whelan. He’s an emeritus at Laurel Mount University.

He wrote a paper once, years ago, about the etymology of gibil .

If this is right, he might be able to tell you which tablets it’s appeared on and who’s studied them.

Or if it’s a mistake, let you rule it out completely. ”

“Sounds like we’ve got something.” Tysen smiled. She looked relieved. “I’ll talk to your SSA about grabbing you two for a few days. I want you to go to Laurel Mount and talk to this professor…”

“Whelan.”

“Professor Whelan. And that’s convenient, since Laurel Mount is outside Pittsburgh. I want you two to head up there afterward to assist Agents Russo and Sullivan in their investigation.”

Both Stella and Hagen nodded. Stella found herself not looking forward to another trip to Pennsylvania. But maybe going back to the source of where this whole mess began would provide new insights.

And a chance to catch whoever motivated Alessandra’s murder.

Tysen jabbed a finger at the screen. “Learning more about the world these scholars inhabit might be the breakthrough we need to stop these murders before they spread even further. While you’re doing that, Guy, please come up with a list of everyone who can translate cuneiform in the United States.

Be thorough. At the same time, Agent Drake, we need to find a way into that Dispatch group.

So redouble your efforts. If you need more people, just ask.

But we have to find out who’s running it. ”

The meeting ended. The screen went black.

Slade leaned forward. “This is our chance to nail this guy for Alessandra. Good hunting.”

Stella stood. “We’re on the next flight out.”