To better identify any connection between the suicides, I sent in a request to Cyber for the phone records of the previous victims. Incoming calls, outgoing ones, locations, anything. Since they were suicides and not homicides, I was notified that it might take twenty-four to forty-eight hours to get the data.

“I’ll take it as soon as I can get it,” I said.

Sasha had mentioned that Blake had killed a man named Aaron Jasper and had brought up the Matchmaker in relationship to him. We had Aaron’s prints on file, but they didn’t match any prints found at the senator’s house.

Maybe the Matchmaker was the person watching the suicides. If so, what, if anything, did that have to do with the death of the blogger Thomas Kewley?

I didn’t know.

Then, thinking of what Greer had said about convincing someone to harm himself, I tried following up with Ralph, who was looking for people who might’ve benefited from the suicide victims’ deaths, but he didn’t pick up.

I spent some time reviewing the security footage of Mannie’s escape. He didn’t appear to speak with anyone. The fight with Thurman was brief and it didn’t look like words were exchanged. DeYoung still needed to give me approval for the work records of the staff who were on duty when Mannie fled.

Alright.

Back to the suicides.

Timing and location.

Somewhere there was a link between these victims. I just needed to figure out what it was.

47

50 minutes later

Blake evaluated things.

Within the hour he would know about the canisters, and Reese’s little boy would either be returned to his daddy or would be on his way to experiencing a tragic and rather frightful end.

So that was one thing on his mind.

Then there was the matter of the email with the picture of Julianne Springman’s corpse—who’d sent it and why—and the information he was expecting on the quantum encryption findings. It would provide more security for his transactions overseas, especially with the arms dealers he was in communication with.

And, of course, who was the person who gave up the location of the condo? After meeting with Ibrahim at the greenhouse, Blake had become convinced that the jihadist was not the leak.

He was thinking that through when Mannie returned.

“I found the origin of the email with the photograph of Miss Springman,” Mannie told him. “Or, at least I believe I have.”

“Tell me.”

“The routing bounced around, pinballed across the globe through half a dozen countries, but from what I can tell, it looks like it originated from a computer in the Jacob K. Javits Federal Building downtown.”

“What?”

“I know.”

“You’re saying it was from the FBI?”

“It could’ve been, yes. Or the postal service or the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. They have offices in that building as well.”