Laurel and Frank's eyes glazed over in stereo, lips turned upwards in confusion.
‘What?’ Laurel said.
Frank frowned at Astrid. ‘And how did you work that out?’
She picked up Laurel’s notes and stretched her legs until her feet rested on the table. Once Laurel had scratched through the male names and added the ones she’d given her, there were seven left on the page. Astrid got the remote and switched the TV set off.
‘You might want to sit down for this, Frank.’ Astrid gave him a twisted smile, like the grin of someone about to divulge their most treasured secret. He pushed the cushions off the chair next to the TV and stared at her. ‘The murders and the Agency’s deliberate incompetence in investigating them are two different things.’
‘You don’t think there’s a connection?’ Laurel replied.
‘I believe somebody wants me to think there is, so I’ll focus on the Agency and who wants to frame me. But it doesn’t make any sense. As useless as I believe them to be, in general, there are still some skilled people there.’
She peered into Delaney’s bloodshot eyes before turning to stare at Lee.
Frank laughed at her. ‘You’re too kind, Snow.’
‘If somebody high up in the Agency wanted to frame me, there’d be evidence pointing towards me at all the crime scenes, not only in Prague. Even if it’s a rogue agent acting alone, they would’ve had plenty of opportunities to leave evidence incriminating me.’
‘Maybe they’re cleverer than you, Snow.’
Frank’s shirt peered out of his trousers, and there was a sauce stain underneath his chin. He must have sprayed himself with something citrusy as a smell of lemon hung around the room.
‘I think the Agency’s smartest agents are all in this room, Frank.’ Astrid grinned at Laurel and ignored the scowl on his face. ‘No, a single individual is behind this, and influential people at the Agency are using it to smear my name and incarcerate me. They got lucky with the timing.’
‘Why?’ Frank asked. ‘What makes you so special?’
Astrid sighed and told him what she’d already revealed to Laurel. ‘I wasn’t coming back to the Agency; Director Cross signed off on it.’
‘Maybe that’s why Cross disappeared. If they were on to his deception with you, he’d have ended up in a cell as well.’ He peered at the two women as if he’d discovered something significant in their investigation. ‘They probably think Cross is your partner, and he helped you escape from the van.’
Astrid could see why the Agency had stuck Frank behind a desk. ‘Let’s hope they believe that. The more they follow the wrong leads, the better it is for us.’
‘The Agency would find you if you left,’ Laurel said. ‘I’ve read the files about the ones who tried to quit. It never ended well for them.’
‘Not me.’ There was no arrogance in Astrid’s voice, just absolute confidence and self-belief.
‘Snow’s right,’ Frank piped up.
‘I’m right about which part?’ She was curious as to why he’d switched from disagreeing with her.
‘You’re too good for the Agency. If one agent could disappear from them, it would be you, especially if Director Cross protected you. They couldn’t allow that to happen. Once you sign up for the Agency, they’ve got you for life; the only way to leave is in a wooden box.’
Laurel rubbed at the mark on her head. ‘Why couldn’t they bring you back into the fold, keep you there?’
‘Isn’t that what they did?’ Astrid gazed at the stain on Frank’s chin, getting hungry again. ‘A deep cell underground is a pretty permanent place to keep somebody. If Frank hadn’t busted me out of the van, I’d be sitting in the shadows for the rest of my life.’ She acknowledged her debt to him with a nod. His scowl morphed into a grimace as she asked him another question. ‘Do you know what happened to Director Cross?’ It was too much of a coincidence for him to have disappeared before Astrid got entangled in this mess.
‘Nobody knows. One day he’s at work, the next he isn’t.’
‘The Agency searched for him?’
‘Of course, they did. They found nothing.’
‘So much for them being able to find anybody who tries to leave their orbit,’ Laurel said.
‘They might not be trying to find him.’ Astrid peered at the plaster on Laurel’s head, feeling a strange kind of emotion for her. ‘Or they might know where he is. And Frank could be right: if they knew what he’d planned with me, George would be locked away as we speak.’
Frank nodded, the skin below his chin rippling in a most unattractive fashion. ‘They didn’t waste any time in getting somebody new in.’
‘And Director Davis replaced him?’ Astrid asked.
‘It’s her empire now.’
Laurel sat up. ‘Why did you say it was a single individual behind the murders?’
‘I don’t think there could be two people who hate me so much.’ She allowed herself the luxury of a chuckle.
‘Don’t be too sure,’ Frank said without a trace of humour. His ire couldn’t knock Astrid from her upbeat mood.
‘There’s too much controlled anger in those five murders for it to be two people. It’s one person, and it’s a woman.’
‘Go on, then, enlighten us,’ he said. Astrid found it amusing her apparent saviour would sing her praises one minute, the next make obvious his disdain for her theories.
‘You’ve both seen the crime scene photos, right?’ They nodded in unison. ‘Any marks on the bodies of Andrews and Chill?’
‘Yes,’ they both said together.
‘Small bruises on their backs, as if somebody pushed against them to hold them down during strangulation?’
‘How did you know?’ Laurel asked.
‘Don’t worry; I didn’t do it, or any of them. Don’t you think it’s strange the three men have the marks while the two women don’t?’ Astrid removed her legs from the table, scratching the top of her ankle before a bout of cramp ensued. ‘I saw the photo of Chill’s body. The bruise was small, too small to be from a man unless he’s on the short side. And if our suspect has two hands on the plastic bag over the victim’s head, which they must have, it’s safe to assume they held them down with some part of their leg. It can’t have been their foot as they wouldn’t have been able to reach their head then, so it must’ve been their knee; same with the other men.’
‘Okay; why not the same MO with the other two murders?’ Frank said.
‘Because generally, women don’t think other women are going to kill them. We’re always suspicious around men, but another woman we trust; mostly.’
‘It must be someone with a similar or larger physique,’ Laurel said.
‘Absolutely, so it was easier for them to overpower the victims. There was no need to hold them down; hence, there were no marks on those two bodies.’
‘That’s all guesswork.’ Frank didn’t sound convinced.
‘It’s an educated analysis, Frank. It’s what I’m good at. You know this. It’s why you broke me out of that van.’
‘I don’t buy it.’ He jumped from his chair and stormed into the kitchen.
‘He certainly dislikes you. His sister must have taken your breakup pretty hard.’
‘She did.’ Astrid tried not to think about it, a brooding look on her face as she grabbed hold of the TV remote again.
‘What must it be like to love somebody so much?’
The sadness in Laurel’s voice startled her. Staring at the other woman and recognising the pain in her face, Astrid didn’t know how to answer so switched on the TV and searched for news about the Reaper. Laurel stared at the names she’d written, with a far-off look in her eyes.
Astrid ceased the pointless changing of the channels, stopping on a cartoon of a frustrated cat trying to smash a small grinning brown mouse. The moggy chased its prey around an old-fashioned kitchen on an endless loop of a desperate pursuit which would never end, no matter how many times they played out the same scenario.
‘You could go back to the Agency, Laurel.’
‘And what would I do there?’ The anger in Laurel’s voice pleased Astrid; as long as she used it positively, it would be much better than wallowing in sadness. ‘We have Frank on the inside; there’s no need for two of us there.’
How quickly this has turned into ‘us’ and not just me.
‘Are you not concerned about your reputation, of what might happen to you the longer you’re with me?’
Why are you still with me, rookie, when you could be back in your safe everyday life with the Agency and your dog?
A million and one theories rattled inside Astrid’s head, and every single one of them wanted to pull her deep below the murky waters of her current predicament.
‘They think you and your partner have kidnapped me; I’ll be okay for a while. You never know, I might return there as a conquering hero. We both might.’
Astrid laughed at the thought of it combined with the sight of the frustrated cartoon cat getting a creampie stuffed into his startled face.
‘My theories didn’t convince Frank; how about you?’
‘I examined all the evidence they had. Your analysis appears sound to me. But then what do I know? I’m only a rookie.’
Astrid stared at Laurel, expecting to be greeted by a morose vision of unhappiness, but was pleased to see the other woman grinning at her, blonde hair shimmering in the light of the digital screen. Some pots and pans were thrown into cupboards as Frank completed his domestic duties in the kitchen. Astrid nodded his way, pointing towards the racket coming from the other room.
‘What do you make of him?’
‘I don’t know him at all. I’ve seen him in passing at headquarters, but we’d never spoken until I woke up in the back of the car.’
‘Do you trust him?’
‘I don’t know who to trust.’ Laurel gazed at her. ‘If you were going to disappear from the Agency before, why don’t you do it now?’
Astrid ignored the flashing psychedelic lights coming from the TV and shuffled closer to the younger woman, cutting out the space separating them on the sofa.
‘Someone is trying to destroy my life, and I’m not the type of person to stand by and let that happen.’
‘Why do you think they’re doing this?’
She answered while flicking through the news channels again. ‘I don’t care why. I’m just going to stop them any way I can.’
Frank trundled back into the room and glared at them. ‘We need to talk about what we’re going to do next.’
‘That’s simple.’ Astrid turned off the set. ‘I’m going to find Director Cross.’