Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(100)
Author: Richelle Mead

Justin was following along with the victim’s profile on his ego. “And she was an eight, of course. Looks like she’s the only one who wasn’t killed at home, but…I’m guessing there were still no witnesses and a mostly inaccessible room?”

“Correct. She was killed in her office.” Johansson glanced at Mae. “Do you know the Sturluson Building? She was on the tenth floor, in a secure hall only accessible to those with the correct key cards.”

“Was there a window in her office?” asked Justin.

“I can’t imagine that being used as an entrance,” said Mae, eyes narrowed in thought. “That building wouldn’t be easy to climb, and it’s on a pretty visible corner. Was it during business hours?”

Johansson nodded. “Yes, which makes it even more unbelievable.”

“Let’s head over and take a look, then,” said Justin. He didn’t exactly feel defeated yet, but he had a suspicion the same pattern was coming: no clues at the scene, no obvious religious involvement, and security info sent to Leo that would reveal no obvious alteration.

That wasn’t far from the truth. The office was just as difficult to penetrate as Johansson had implied. The police had at least documented an extensive amount of information on the place, meaning Leo would have solid evidence to sift through later. In a surprisingly helpful gesture, Johansson’s team cleared out most of the staff on that floor of the building, so that Justin and Mae could have an easier walk-through. Johansson even saved them a trip by bringing the victim’s husband in for questioning. Justin went through the usual interrogation and couldn’t help but feel bad for Mr. Arnarsson. He was clearly grief-stricken and wore the look of someone who couldn’t yet accept his reality. And just like all the others Justin had interviewed, Mr. Arnarsson firmly denied any religious involvement on his wife’s part.

When Justin finished, he sought out Johansson to wrap things up but found her engrossed in a heated discussion with a few of her officers. “Come on,” Mae told him as they waited a respectful distance away. “Let’s wander. I saw a vending machine by the elevators. They might have this drink I used to love.”

The section by the elevators had actually remained unsecured, and a few curious coworkers lingered near the edge of the police lines, whispering and speculative as they waited for the authorities to leave. There was a counter along the wall that contained assorted beverage machines, and Mae bought some sort of carbonated fruit beverage that she assured him he’d adore.

“Needs vodka,” he told her.

While they lingered, a nervous Nordic woman in her forties approached. She gave them tentative smiles and then glanced around for any onlookers. Satisfied, she moved closer and said, “You’re with SCI, right? I heard they think there’s a cult involved in this.”

Mae looked understandably annoyed at the security leak. “I’m sorry, we can’t discuss the investigation.”

“Of course, of course.” The woman’s eyes darted around again, first to her colleagues, then to the police, and then back to Justin and Mae. “Have any of you looked into…the man?” Despite her unease, the woman seemed to enjoy the drama of the moment, and Justin’s senses went on high alert. Interpersonal gossip could crack something like this wide open.

“The man?” Justin asked, giving the woman one of his best smiles. Whether she went for plebeians or not, she seemed to like the attention and flushed with pleasure.

“Clara’s boyfriend. She tried to keep it quiet, but I saw them at restaurants a couple of times. They always seemed to be having really intense conversations. I don’t know if I can blame her. The guy was gorgeous—a little different from Siegfried, if you catch what I’m saying.”

Yes, Justin certainly did. The victim had been beautiful, as would be expected from an eight, but her husband showed heavy damage from Cain. It was the same pattern they’d observed in the other murders.

The woman had overcome her anxiety now and was loving her captive audience. “If you want my opinion, you shouldn’t be checking out cults. Look to her husband or her boyfriend. One of them might not have liked the, uh, arrangement anymore.”

“That’s good insight,” Justin told her, which pleased her more. “And astute of you to notice all that at the time. You’re in the wrong line of work. You should be a cop with those instincts. Do you know his name or anything else that could be helpful?”

Her face fell a little. “No…but I could tell you what he looked like. And I can tell you the restaurants they were at.”

Mae called over an officer and asked him to take a thorough description of the alleged boyfriend and the couple’s outings. Meanwhile, Justin sought out Johansson.

“Is her husband still here?” he asked her. “We might want to ask him if he knew about any affairs.”

As Johansson went to retrieve him, Justin wondered if this new lead could actually be useful. Naturally, he’d take any piece of knowledge they could get. On the other hand, something as mundane as an act of passion didn’t fit into the neat raging-geneticist theory or even the murderous-cult theory. Nonetheless, he interrogated Mr. Arnarsson and was met with even greater incredulity than the religious questions had received.

“He seems sincere,” Justin told Mae afterward. “But if he did do it, he may have had a while to prepare himself. There’s also the small question of how he or the other guy would’ve gotten into this inaccessible office. Who knows? Maybe the boyfriend’s a contortionist or something. That might add to his appeal, along with his good genes.”

Mae frowned at that and looked like she was about to speak when Johansson returned and said they had a call for her in their makeshift command station. Mae straightened up as though her general were right in front of her and hurried off.

Meanwhile, the sketch was complete. The image compiled by their witness and the police certainly gave credence to the idea of a desirable lover. The guy was close to the victim’s age, with blond hair and flawless skin that the victim’s coworker was obsessed with. “It was perfect, I tell you. Not a mark,” the witness told Justin. “Just like that woman you were with.”

Identifying the man was in the hands of the police now. Justin glanced at the time and saw it was later than he’d expected. They’d have to find Tessa soon and get dinner. Seeing as she hadn’t called, he could only hope she hadn’t committed any other acts against national security.