Chapter 5

Mr. Lewis slumped over the small metal table in his interrogation room, his shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world had pressed him down. Jane placed a cup of coffee next to him with deliberate care, but he didn't reach for it. His gaze remained fixed on the blank wall, an emptiness in his eyes that spoke of unbearable loss. He barely acknowledged Jane's presence until she began to speak.

"Mr. Lewis, I can't express my apologies enough that we're here right now," Jane said softly, taking a seat across from him. Her voice, rough yet soothing, sought to ease the tension in the room. "Please know that we are committed to finding out the truth about what happened to your daughter. But we need your help."

For a moment, it seemed Mr. Lewis hadn't heard her at all. Then he blinked slowly, exhaling a heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm not actually going to kill him," he confessed, his tone heavy with resignation..

Jane's gaze softened, her own memories flaring to life. "It's okay, you're not under arrest," she said gently. "To be honest I don't know that I would have responded differently if I were in your position." She offered him a compassionate smile, one that he did not return. Instead, he studied her intently, as if searching for a deeper understanding.

"Do you have children, detective?" he asked, his voice calm but with a disquieting edge.

Jane's eyes fell away from his intense stare. "No, sir," she answered quietly, her voice tinged with empathy. "I don't have children." She paused, her mind drifting to her past case, the sharp sting of loss that she knew too well. "But I have people that I love deeply. If something ever happened to them…" Her voice faltered, weighed down by the thought. "I don't know if I'd be as strong as you and your family have been."

The memories of Rebecca, the anguish of loss, the struggle to find justice—it all rushed back, melding with Mr. Lewis's grief. Jane's compassion was real, drawn from the well of her own experiences. As she faced Mr. Lewis, her heart ached with the shared burden of loss, and she knew she needed to channel that understanding into helping him through this devastating time.

Mr. Lewis sighed heavily, his breath a shuddering release of pent-up sorrow. "When my daughters were little, they used to trick their teachers. Swapping places and pretending to be each other," he said, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Even my wife and I had trouble telling them apart. Their looks, their mannerisms—it was as if they made sure they were perfectly identical." He paused, his gaze distant, and then continued with a tremor in his voice. "When they turned eighteen, they got these tattoos on their fingers. Ava was '1' and Anna was '2,' for the order they were born."

Mr. Lewis shook his head, the weight of the memory bearing down on him. "Now, when I look at Anna…" His voice broke, and he slumped forward, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

She reached across the table, her hand gently resting on top of his. The simple touch conveyed her sympathy, her solidarity. "I promise you, Mr. Lewis," she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity, "that we will leave no stone unturned in finding out the truth. Ava deserves justice, and we are here to ensure that justice is served. You're not alone in this."

"I'm sorry." He managed, and he gathered what little courage he had left, finally taking the warm cup of coffee in his hands. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Jane leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed on Mr. Lewis as she listened intently. "Alright, let's start with something straightforward. When did Ava move to Boston?" she asked, her voice calm and steady.

"Six months ago," Mr. Lewis replied quickly and firmly, as though he had been expecting the question.

"What brought Ava to Boston? Was she here for school or a job?" Jane asked gently, her empathy evident in her voice.

Mr. Lewis's hands fidgeted nervously, his fingers twisting together as he spoke. "She came here for school—or at least, that was the plan." His voice carried a hint of frustration, revealing that this topic was particularly painful for him.

Jane noticed the edge in his tone and pressed further. "What do you mean by that?"

"She started her classes when she arrived," Mr. Lewis explained, his voice trailing off with a sigh. "But about a month ago, she called us and said she wasn't happy with the program and decided to drop out." His voice wavered with confusion and disappointment. "We didn't understand why she would make such a sudden change. Nursing had been her dream for as long as we can remember. Then she met Daniel, and after that, she barely called us. Even Anna had trouble getting in touch with her."

Jane's brow furrowed slightly as she sought more information. "Can you recall any specific reasons or concerns she mentioned about dropping out? Was Daniel involved in that decision?"

Mr. Lewis shook his head slowly, frustration etched across his face. "No, she didn't give us a clear explanation. We didn't even know about Daniel until a month ago. It was so out of character for her to give up on something she had worked so hard for. We tried reaching out, but she stopped responding. She said she needed time to figure things out and find her true calling." He mimicked air quotes for the last part, his voice tinged with irony.

Jane took a deep breath, her expression thoughtful. "Okay, do you know where she was living?"

Mr. Lewis hesitated, his face clouded with concentration. "The address we had was… let me look it up. I don't remember it off the top of my head." He rifled through his belongings, pulling out his phone.

As Mr. Lewis fumbled with his phone, the sound of raised voices and banging echoed through the hallway. A sudden and urgent knocking reverberated through the interrogation room door. Frost's voice, edged with urgency, cut through the commotion, calling for Jane's immediate assistance.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jane sprang from her chair, her adrenaline spiking. She followed Frost, their hurried footsteps pounding against the floor as they raced towards the holding area where Daniel was being kept. Korsak, alerted by the disturbance, joined them shortly after.

"What the hell?" Jane demanded, her voice cutting through the cacophony. The scene inside the holding room was nothing short of chaotic. Daniel, in a state of complete frenzy, yanked at his handcuffs until his wrists bled. His anguished cries filled the air, each breath escalating in desperation.

"Make it stop! Please!" Daniel's screams pierced through the room, his voice raw and tortured. He clutched his ears, his whole body trembling with terror. Frost stood to the side, visibly shaken and at a loss for words.

Jane stepped into the room, gently, yet firmly addressing him. "Daniel, hey. You need to calm down."

"No! He's coming! Please, make it stop! I can hear them," Daniel's voice was strained and hoarse from his frantic screams. Tears streamed down his face, his pleas echoing off the walls. Jane's heart pounded as she tried to make sense of the overwhelming situation. She had witnessed many outbursts before, some genuine and some mere acts, but Daniel's raw terror seemed alarmingly real.

Jane crouched down to Daniel's level, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Who is 'them'?" she asked, her empathy evident as she sought to anchor him amidst his hysteria.

Daniel's wild eyes suddenly locked onto hers, a momentary calm washing over him before he spoke with an unsettling certainty. "He's coming for you," he said, his voice dripping with an eerie conviction. His eyes widened with manic intensity, and a chilling laughter bubbled up from within him, filling the room with an unsettling presence. "He chose you." His hands slammed down excitedly on the table, the sound resonating ominously. "Oh, you are fucked!"

Jane pushed through her mounting unease. "Who is he, Daniel? Please, let me help you," she urged, her voice urgent as the dread deepened with his sudden shift in demeanor.

Frost stood frozen in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched from the doorway. The intensity of Daniel's mental breakdown was palpable. Jane's heart raced, her instincts screaming for action.

Without warning, Daniel's body lunged forward, his face contorted into a primal scream, sending flecks of spit flying onto the table. The guttural noise echoed through the room, a horrifying testament to his unraveling sanity. Then, in a nightmarish turn, Daniel's body went slack and collapsed to the floor. White foam began to form at his mouth, and he convulsed violently, his body writhing in spasms.

"Shit! Frost, call Maura right now!" Jane shouted, her voice sharp with panic as she moved swiftly to Daniel's side. With practiced precision, she turned him onto his side, carefully positioning his head to keep his airway clear. The sound of Frost's urgent call to Maura buzzed in the background, while uniformed officers scrambled to find additional help.

"Come on, Daniel, stay with me," Jane pleaded. She carefully adjusted his head to the side, ensuring his airway remained clear. Time seemed to slow down as Jane focused on the critical task of keeping him alive.

The intervals between Daniel's convulsions grew longer until his body finally went still. A wave of frustration surged through Jane, and she muttered a curse under her breath as she quickly shifted to perform CPR. Each press of her hands against his chest was a desperate plea for life, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Frost's anxiety boiled over. His frustration was palpable as he slammed his fist against the wall, the sound echoing through the small room. His face was a mask of desperation. "Where the hell is Maura?" he roared, his voice cracking with panic. The urgency of the situation was unmistakable—Daniel's life hung in the balance right in front of them.

Jane's breaths were labored, her chest heaving as she worked tirelessly. The tension in the room was suffocating, and her heart pounded in her ears. Just as she was about to push her limits further, she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. Her head snapped around, and she saw Maura kneeling beside her.

Jane moved aside, her eyes meeting Maura's in a silent exchange of expectation and hope. Maura's gaze was steady, focused, and reassuring. The weight of the situation was crushing, but Jane clung to the hope that Maura might bring the solution they so desperately needed.

"He's gone," Maura declared softly, her voice carrying a note of reluctant finality. She removed her fingers from Daniel's neck and draped her stethoscope around her neck, her movements precise yet burdened..

Maura leaned back from the body, her eyes locking with Jane's across the room. The gravity of the situation was clear in her gaze—this wasn't just a setback; it was a deep, painful blow. The unexpected death of their prime suspect, who might have held vital information about Ava, was a crushing blow to their investigation. The room felt colder, heavier with the weight of their loss..

Jane sat back against the wall, her head bowed between her knees and her hands shaking from the adrenaline. The disbelieving silence was broken only by the harsh reality of their circumstances. The room seemed to close in on her, and she struggled to process the enormity of what had just happened. Her thoughts raced, grappling with the realization that their investigation had taken a tragic and irrevocable turn.

Maura's voice cut through the silence, practical and composed despite the tension. "If I can transport his body to the lab, I'll conduct further tests to determine the cause of death. The blue patterns in these veins suggest the possibility of poisoning, but I can't confirm anything until I analyze the toxicology screen."

As Maura spoke, Korsak appeared at the doorway, his presence a stark contrast to the chaos within. "I've arranged for the family to be escorted to a hotel with officers. We can focus on handling this situation and regroup to speak with them tomorrow," he said.

Jane took a deep breath, shaking off the lingering dread that settled in her bones. She had to focus on the task at hand, channeling her resolve into solving the case. "Thank you, Korsak," she said curtly, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions beneath the surface. Without another word, she exited the room with purposeful strides.

In the hallway, she sought out the arresting officer who had brought Daniel in. She approached him with a sharp, no-nonsense demeanor, cutting straight to the point. "I need your report on Daniel. Now."

The officer nodded, handing over the document with a look of exhaustion. Jane moved to a nearby desk, its surface cluttered but unoccupied. As she settled into the chair, her mind raced with the echo of Daniel's frantic words: "He's coming for you." The chilling forewarning reverberated through her thoughts, amplifying her urgency and determination.

She skimmed through the report, her eyes scanning for any scraps of information that could offer insight. The initial confession had been a dramatic turn, but now with Daniel dead and the investigation in disarray, it felt like they were grasping at shadows. Two bodies lay in the wake, and with no immediate leads, the case was more tangled than ever.

Ava's move to Boston, her abrupt withdrawal from school, and the mysterious presence of Daniel—everything needed to be reexamined. Jane understood that to find clarity, she would have to delve deeper into Ava's world, beyond the surface details. She needed to uncover what had driven Ava to make such drastic changes, and whether Daniel had played a role in those decisions.

Jane found a rare moment of calm amidst the chaos as she stood in Maura's lab, enveloped by the methodical ambiance of the sterile environment. The sharp scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic hum of lab equipment offered a brief reprieve from the turbulent emotions swirling in her mind. Leaning against a nearby table, Jane took a deep breath, letting the tension seep out of her body as she gazed at the body of Daniel Hampton being examined.

Yet, Jane couldn't shake the eerie chill that settled in her bones whenever she thought of Daniel's last words: "He's coming for you." They felt too personal, too ominous to ignore. The dark, frantic gleam in Daniel's eyes haunted her thoughts, fueling a persistent unease that simmered beneath her surface calm. The notion that his warning might not just be for her, but also an indication of more to come, sent a shiver down her spine. She silently dreaded the possibility that the body count might rise if she couldn't uncover the truth soon.

Maura's voice broke the silence, gentle and practical. "You don't have to wait here if you prefer," she offered, her gloved hands carefully maneuvering an organ into a tray with practiced precision.

Jane's eyes drifted back to Maura, who remained focused and resolute despite the emotional weight of the situation. "No, I'll stay," Jane replied, her voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. "I need to understand what happened to him—what he meant with those last words. I need to know if it has something to do with Ava."

The question that gnawed at Jane's mind was whether this was a Romeo and Juliet-style tragedy, a twisted love story spiraling into chaos. What could have developed between Ava and Daniel that led to such a dramatic, destructive end? The rapid descent from affection to violence left her grappling for answers.

As Maura continued her meticulous examination, Jane's eyes wandered over Daniel's body, scrutinizing the details that could offer clues. The track marks on his skin, hidden under layers of tattoos, told a story of long-term drug use and a life likely fraught with addiction and hardship. The tattoos on his right arm, a mix of dark, demonic, and religious imagery, further hinted at a troubled soul. Jane shuddered at the thought of all those needles piercing his skin, a stark contrast to her own aversion to them. The symbols—angels battling demons—were common in tattoo art, but in this case, they seemed to underscore a darker narrative.

Jane's thoughts raced as she considered Daniel's claim that he had saved Ava from something. His desperate assertion suggested that Ava had been entangled in a world that she might have been trying to escape, or perhaps one that Daniel had been trying to escape as well. The notion that Daniel had pulled Ava from a life of hardship or danger—potentially a life he knew all too well—added a layer of complexity to the case.

Jane leaned in closer, her gaze fixed on Daniel's lifeless body, her frustration evident. "I need to find some answers, Maura," she said, her voice tight with urgency. "This day has taken a completely unexpected turn. Two bodies and no leads."

Maura, immersed in her work, continued to dissect Daniel's organs with precision. "The toxicology report should provide more information. I'll be able to determine the exact cause of his death."

Jane clicked her tongue. "He was probably poisoned. But by what? Cyanide?"

"It's possible." Maura mumbled, engrossed in her work.

"Okay so if it's cyanide…" Jane's thoughts spilled out between them.

Maura shook her head, her focus unwavering. "I mentioned cyanide as a possibility, but we won't know for sure until the report comes back. Cyanide can easily be hidden in the teeth and chewed to release the poison. It's fascinating, really. There were soldiers during World War II who…"

"Come on, Maura. I don't need a history lesson right now," Jane interrupted, her frustration boiling over. "What else could have caused his death? I've never seen a bullet cause someone to foam at the mouth." Jane rolled her eyes, unable to contain her exasperation.

Maura's brows furrowed, her patience wearing thin. "I can't be certain until I get the toxicology results. There's a range of poisons that cause respiratory distress and frothing at the mouth—organophosphates, strong acids or alkalis, even hydrogen peroxide..." She met Jane's gaze with a touch of exasperation. "It's crucial to identify the exact poison. I need to be thorough."

Jane's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I can't wrap my head around this, Maura. They were so young, with their whole lives ahead of them." She paced back and forth, her thoughts a whirlwind of unanswered questions. "And this 'He's coming for you' statement... It doesn't add up. Is there another person involved, or was Daniel just mentally unstable?"

Maura, her concentration now fully absorbed by her task, barely registered Jane's rambling. For Maura, surprises in her autopsies were rare. She was accustomed to seeing familiar causes of death—trauma, cancer, organ damage from long-term abuse. But today promised to be different, filled with revelations that could shift the entire investigation.

Jane continued her monologue, lost in thought and not noticing Maura's attempt to interject. "According to Ava's father, she moved here from Three Rivers six months ago. Why Boston? Why not LA or New York? And why drop out of nursing school? There has to be more to this story…" Her voice trailed off, leaving her with a sense of unfinished business as she contemplated the missing pieces of the puzzle.

"Jane." Maura's voice cut through the murky fog of Jane's thoughts.

"It's possible that Anna holds some key information that she could have kept secret from her parents, to protect Ava. I can't believe Ava didn't confide in her sister…"

"JANE!"

Jane spun around, startled by the urgency in Maura's voice. Her heart raced as her eyes locked onto the object Maura was holding with her forceps.

"Maura…" Jane's voice quivered as she approached cautiously. "What is that?"

Maura's gaze was fixed on the small, tube-like object stained with dark red blood. "It was inside his stomach," she said, her voice filled with disbelief.

Jane's hands shook slightly as she donned a pair of blue gloves. With careful precision, she took the tube from Maura, cradling it with a mix of shock and confusion. "He swallowed this?" Her voice was barely a whisper, reflecting her astonishment.

"It appears so," Maura replied, her voice strained. "The esophagus is normally about 2 to 2.5 centimeters in diameter but can stretch significantly. This tube could have been ingested like a pill, though it clearly didn't go down easily."

The significance of the discovery hung heavily between them, both women realizing the potential implications. The tube might hold crucial evidence about Ava's death.

Jane examined the tube closely, her eyes narrowing as she detected a faint seam running through its middle. Maura's gaze followed, both women intrigued and cautious.

"There's something inside," Jane murmured, her voice a blend of curiosity and concern. She brought the tube closer, inadvertently smearing a streak of blood across her face shield. Quickly, she removed the shield, her hands trembling.

Determined, Jane gripped both ends of the tube and pulled. To their astonishment, one end gave way, revealing a small piece of paper nestled inside.

The two women exchanged a look of bewilderment, their minds racing with the implications.

"How did this survive his stomach acid?" Jane asked, her voice laden with disbelief.

Maura shook her head, brows furrowed in thought. "It's an intriguing design. Some materials can withstand stomach acid for a time, especially if the container is made of stainless steel or gold. It might have been in his stomach for a few hours, but it's unclear how it remained intact."

With a mix of trepidation and determination, Jane peeled off her bloodied glove, her fingertips hovering over the edge of the paper. Her heart pounded as she carefully unrolled it, the pain from her stitches a sharp reminder of the urgency of the moment. The words on the paper were a mystery waiting to be uncovered. Jane's eyes scanned the message, the gravity of their findings sinking in as she tried to decipher its meaning.

Jane's heart pounding, a sharp pain striking directly to her stitches. She read the note.

Ares, mighty god of war's might,

Temper your rage, harness your might.

Strategy and tactics, your sword refine,

Fight not for chaos, but for honor's sign.

Ares, humbled by Athena's wise decree,

Pauses to ponder, his heart set free.

Together they forge an unbreakable bond,

Where war and wisdom, in harmony, respond.

My Athena, come to me.

Her breath quickened, her heart pounding furiously as the weight of the message settled in. The chilling realization that she might be entangled in another complex and dangerous puzzle was overwhelming.

"No, no, no," Jane muttered under her breath, her fingers gripping the edges of the paper tightly. Her vision blurred as the room began to spin, a creeping sense of panic clawing at her chest. The familiar tightness of fear gripped her, and she felt as though she were suffocating under the weight of her memories and the new threat before her.

She staggered backward, leaning against a lab table, her breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps. The sterile smell of the lab, usually so calming, now felt suffocating. Jane's knees buckled slightly as she struggled to maintain control, her body betraying her in the face of the looming case.

"Jane, breathe," Maura's calm, authoritative voice cut through the chaos. She was beside Jane in an instant, her hands steadying Jane's trembling shoulders. Maura's touch was a lifeline amidst the storm of emotions.

"Maura," Jane's voice cracked, her panic evident. "I can't... I can't do this again. Not now. Not another case like the Ripper."

"Look at me," Maura instructed gently, her voice firm yet soothing. "You need to focus on your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. We'll get through this, just like we always do. You're not alone."

Jane forced herself to meet Maura's steady gaze, her breathing uneven but beginning to steady as she followed Maura's instructions. The rhythmic rise and fall of Maura's chest helped Jane find a semblance of calm. Her panic gradually subsided, though the dread lingered in the back of her mind.

Maura continued to guide Jane through her breathing exercises, her presence a comforting anchor. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed," Maura said softly. "This is a lot to take in, but you're strong. We'll break this down step by step, and we'll find the answers. Just focus on the here and now."

Jane nodded, her hands slowly unclenching as she took deep, measured breaths. The fog of panic began to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of determination. She glanced at Maura, gratitude mingled with lingering anxiety in her eyes.

"Thank you," Jane whispered, her voice hoarse but sincere.

Maura gave her a reassuring smile. "We're in this together. Let's take it one step at a time. We'll figure out what this message means and how it connects to Ava's case. You've got this."

He's dead. I heard the chatter through the radios downstairs. In a dramatic fashion it seemed. When I watched Jane leave, she seemed disheveled. Sweaty. Had the death of that boy gotten to her? No. It couldn't be that easy. He said it would be harder.

The urge has returned today. I wanted this to be simple, but deep down I know how this has to end. The pain I cause from innocent deaths does not satisfy me. It's a necessary evil for the greater plan. His greater plan.

This is taking too long. I'm getting anxious. He's getting anxious. His letters are becoming more and more angry with me. I need to get her attention.