Dark Revelations (14 page)
Authors: Duane Swierczynski,Anthony E. Zuiker
The team divided according to their natural abilities. Deckland O’Brian hit the resort’s computer and surveillance network while Natasha Garcon liaised with the resort owners to open up everything else. Hans Roeding went on a hunt through the resort, in case Labyrinth was still nearby. Steve Dark, of course—the only actual cop among them—joined the forensics team already on-site.
Dark found the hand in a little artificial eddy near a riverside bar. Borrowing an ice bucket and plastic bag, Dark scooped up the appendage and contained it. He had no mobile kit, but he had everything he needed (and more) back in the Gulfstream.
Though he had no doubt that this was the body of oil executive Charles Murtha—who’d called out sick four days ago, according to Garcon. Following O’Brian’s lead, she’d contacted his company as they raced across town and spoke to Murtha’s executive assistant. She presumed he was off on a little boozing/drug-filled desert holiday, pressures of the job and all of that.
At some point, however, “Labyrinth”—or one of his associates—had abducted Murtha and kept him alive until this moment, when the gold watch ran out of tension, and the hands stopped moving.
Hands, like the one in Dark’s borrowed ice bucket.
The management had turned off the artificial river. Dark jumped in and splashed up the path to its source. Garcon helped him find a maintenance crew who would open up the underground network of pipes that supplied the water. Halfway up a backup supply pipe, Dark found the snapped chains—and not much else. But this was clearly where Murtha had been bound, waiting for thousands of pounds of rushing water to come pouring down the pipe, blasting him apart in one messy gush. And at the same time, power-washing all forensic evidence from the pipe itself.
Dark knew this because O’Brian yelled for everyone to report to his tablet computer immediately.
Labyrinth had uploaded his next video.
The executive is suspended in the tunnel. He says, “My name is . . .” Hesitates. He’s scared out of his mind. “My name is Charles Murtha and the Earth we live on is a gift! A gift to its inhabitants! And in return we rape Mother Earth! We take what was given to us and we burn it and soil it and choke it! But no more! Earth was here long before us and we will honor and respect that!”
Then came the water, striking with such force that the on-screen image jumped as the wave blasted into the camera. But if you were paying attention, just a second before the water struck and the screen turned to white foam, you could literally see Charles Murtha, oil executive, being blasted apart . . .
And finally a title card:
I WILL
HELP YOU
OUT OF THE
LABYRINTH
THE WORLD
IS NOT
BEYOND SAVING
Did you see that? Freeze it 2:43 and you can see this fucken guy EXPLODEDollarhyde28 19 seconds agoThe guy has a point. Fuck the greedy oil companiesFelding11 1 minute agoHey, FosterK777, what makes this different from showing innocent civillions getting shot 2 hell by U.S. army hellacopters?2Buzz2 2 minutes agoCan’t believe this is still up, and that we’re all watching this. I mean, this is video footage of a man dying!FosterK777 3 minutes agoYou’re not the real guyDazzaland101010 5 minutes agoand the best is yet 2 comeenterthelabyrinth 6 minutes ago
chapter 23
T
he name on the vibrating cell phone was TREY, and even though MEP Alain Pantin was in the middle of seven different projects and two live conference calls in his cramped office near Leopold Park, he plucked the cell from his desk and held it to his ear.
he name on the vibrating cell phone was TREY, and even though MEP Alain Pantin was in the middle of seven different projects and two live conference calls in his cramped office near Leopold Park, he plucked the cell from his desk and held it to his ear.
“Have you been following the news?” Trey asked.
“Which news?” Pantin asked, squinting, trying to recall the major headlines of the past few hours. The revolution in the Middle East? The collapse of health care in the West? The political sex scandal of the hour?
“The
Labyrinth
news.”
Labyrinth
news.”
At times, Trey could be infuriatingly cryptic. Out of seemingly nowhere, he’d reference box-office tallies, or the impurity of water sources in the Middle East, or some other bit of global trivia. But Pantin had learned that when the man was interested in something, it was very much worth being interested in it, too.
“Labyrinth—you mean the killer who’s been leaving riddles?” Pantin asked.
“Oh, there’s much more to it than that. Have someone on your team put together a summary. No, better yet, I’ll have something sent over. It’s been fascinating me, this thing. The implications could be huge.”
Pantin didn’t know what that meant. But then again, his mind could never operate with the speed and precision of Trey’s. The two had met at a dinner party in Spain three years ago, and it was Trey who, after just a brief but intense conversation, convinced Pantin that he should consider running for the European Parliament. Pantin politely brushed it off with a joke, then spent the entire night staring at the hotel room ceiling, realizing that yes, this was what his unorthodox career choices had meant him to do. Amazing. It took Trey just minutes and some insightful questions to draw that out of him; Pantin counted it as one of the most profound moments of his life.
The next morning Pantin called Trey and asked if he’d be interested in joining his campaign team. Trey politely demurred, saying he wouldn’t be able to commit, but he’d willingly give counsel and advice where he could. Pantin was elected by a wide margin, and Trey was the behind-the-scenes man who’d helped him win—as well as become a leading voice in Europarl.
Pantin was up for reelection, so of course he could indulge Trey his quirks now and then.
“I heard he struck again,” Pantin said. “Somewhere in the Middle East?”
“The murders are interesting in their savage and grotesque ways. But if you look past the Grand Guignol and listen to his message, I think you’ve got someone who is truly seeking to engage with the world on a level we’ve never seen before.”
“Engage?”
“He’s a killer who’s not in it for the killing. He’s trying to send a message to the world. And what this Labyrinth individual needs is someone to reply to him, from the world stage.”
“Sure. Interpol,” Pantin said.
“I was thinking you.”
“What . . .
me
?”
me
?”
“This is exactly what you need at this point in your career.”
As a new Belgian member of the European Parliament, Pantin was viewed as a comer with a promising future. Nobody knew that Trey was quietly helping his young protégé pursue that full-time. Pantin didn’t know what Trey did full-time; there were rumors he used to be part of British intelligence, but nothing solid. Trey repeatedly said he would never run for office himself; he liked the backstage wrangling way too much. Being the man behind the men.
“Isn’t that playing in the gutter?” Pantin asked. “The man’s clearly a psychopath. Seems strange to jump into the conversation, especially since he’s not even operating anywhere near Europe . . .”
“Forget the crimes and think about his message.”
“Which is?”
“Based on his attacks on the entertainment and oil industries,” Trey said, “I’d venture that he has a problem with selfishness and greed. Sounds like the campaign promises of a certain young Europarl member I know.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting I align myself with a madman.”
“No. You condemn, and then seize control of the conversation. This Labyrinth may be psychotic, but his rage is fueled by real concerns.
Your
concerns, actually. This is a way to make your agenda heard in a fairly spectacular way.”
Your
concerns, actually. This is a way to make your agenda heard in a fairly spectacular way.”
Pantin paused. The advice seemed to run counter to everything Trey had taught him.
“I don’t know, Trey.”
“You don’t have to know. I agree, this is a risky and bold play. So all I’m suggesting is that you start paying attention to Labyrinth seriously. Read all you can. Think about his message. Sometimes a revolution begins from the act of a single individual. Look at Tunisia, and that poor son of a bitch who set himself on fire. You could call him a madman, but he had a message, too, and the message went viral. This Labyrinth? I don’t think he’s going to stop anytime soon, and the world will need someone to respond. Turn a positive out of the negative. I think it should be you.”
“Thanks, Trey. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“I’ll send over a clip file within the hour.”
Pantin hung up the phone and politely excused himself from the two conference calls in progress and stared out at the park, visible through his office window. As usual, Trey’s advice was the kind that shocked initially, but needed time to worm its way down into his brain.
When, suddenly, the advice would make perfect sense. People liked a leader who could project an air of calm and rationality into the global conversation.
Pantin smiled, despite himself.
Come on, Labyrinth.
Let’s see what you’ve got.
New York TimesBreaking: Is Labyrinth posting on social media?AP NewsBreaking: Texas oil executive assaulted by pack of teenagers quoting “Labyrinth” speech.GuardianBreaking: Green organizations call for boycott of IPC gasoline products pending investigation into “Labyrinth” charges.
chapter 24
DARK
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