Ch1-The Whisper
The server humming in Elias’s basement was a low D-flat. It was white noise to everyone else. To Elias, it was a pressure on his eardrums. He fiddled with his noise-cancelling headphones, the silicone fit suctions to his temples, and turned his attention back to the waveform on his monitor. The audio file was EXHIBIT_42-B. It was Julian Vane’s final message. Vane was a billionaire tech tycoon. He was dead in a locked sauna three days ago. The police ruled it a tragic accident due to hyperthermia. Elias zeroed in on a silent interval of three seconds.
He didn’t analyze how the peaks were placed. He examined how much “floor” background micro-noise there was. He turned up his gain by 400%. There. Beneath Vane’s laboured breathing, Elias knew there was a rhythmic clack-shuch. CLACK-SHUSH. It wasn’t a failing mechanical system. It was a heavy velvet curtain being drawn on a brass rod. Vane’s sauna didn’t have curtains. It was glass. Elias jerked back in his seat at a sharp vibration on his desk. He came within a whisker of upsetting his decaf tea. He was getting a video call.
The caller ID read ‘S. VALENTINE - CRISIS MGMT’. He hesitated and then hit “accept.” A woman appeared. Her hair barely brushed her chin, chopped short and dyed almost white. Bright lights bounced off her face, giving her a hard, icy look, like something you’d see in a luxurious car. “Mr. Thorne,” Siobhan Valentine said, her voice strained. “I am at present in a vehicle which contains Julian Vanes’s blood. I am also fairly sure his killer is following me. You still take unbelievably unlikely walk-ins?”
