Aliah’s gaze bounces to both of us.“What?What is it?”
“His fingers,” Roberta murmurs.
Her brother nods.“His fingers.”
Aliah still appears confused, then… “His phone.How would he have worked the screen?”Her eyes widened.“Oh no!”
“I don’t think Isaad was the one who called you,” Detective Marc confirms.“And not just because of how badly damaged his hands were, but did you happen to notice his face?It was barely touched.We see that more and more.Perpetrators will inflict damage to other parts of the body, but leave the head alone—in case they need facial recognition to unlock the subject’s phone.”
Aliah’s eyes close.“Oh no.”
“What do you think they want?”Detective Marc asks her now.
“I have no idea.All of this…” She shakes her head.“I don’t know.”
His gaze flickers to me.
I can only shrug.“Honestly, still totally and completely confused.Though I did learn Sabera’s mother was an MI6 spy back in the day, and she met with some former military officers to try to contact her mother’s original handler.”
“Huh?”
“Exactly.Sabera claims to have useful information to share, but given the Taliban takeover, what would be relevant, let alone valuable, now?”
Aliah seems equally bewildered on the subject, which I feel proves my point.
“I asked the officers from No One Left Behind to put me in touch with the MI6 handler if possible,” I offer.“Sounds like a ‘she’ll find me when/if she wants to find me’ sort of thing.I’ll keep you posted.”I mean this seriously.Jurisdictional issues, turf wars, are a detective’s problem.I genuinely just want Sabera located safe and sound.Now more than ever.
“They accessed Isaad’s phone,” Daryl states.
“Mostly likely.”
“Meaning they heard Aliah’s voice mails and have her contact information.They could be headed here, even now.”
“Why would they do that?”Detective Marc focuses his attention on Aliah.
She shakes her head again, clearly spooked.
“To get Zahra,” Daryl states bluntly.“Isaad didn’t give them what they wanted.They’ll use Zahra next.”
“But what do theywant?”Detective Marc presses.
“A lock that has no key for a key that has no lock,” I murmur.“When you discovered Isaad’s body, was there anything on it?A note, coded message, hell, old-fashioned brass key?A private courier delivered something to him right before he took off.I’ve been trying to figure out what would be significant enough for him to leave his daughter behind and disappear.”
“We found one item in his pocket,” Detective Marc allows.He doesn’t immediately elaborate.Roberta addresses the issue by reaching out and punching her brother’s arm.
He gives her a look, downs two more pistachios, then picks up a piece of Turkish delight.
“A gathered band of long black hair,” he finally gives up.“Like maybe a ponytail that someone had whacked off.I’m guessing it belonged to Sabera?Some kind of proof of life.”
Roberta stares at her brother as if he’s an idiot.“You mean alockof hair?”
Detective Marc freezes with the candy halfway to his mouth.His eyes widen slightly.
I do the honors: “A lock that has no key… What do you wanna bet that token came with a note that Isaad read out loud, and a certain four-year-old overheard?”
“A lock that has no key,” Detective Marc sighs heavily.“All right.I can buy that.Which, assuming it’s Sabera’s hair, makes her the key that has no lock?”He eyes us all expectantly.
“Of course.”Roberta is on a roll now.“A key with no lock could definitely mean a cipher to crack a code, which given Sabera’s skill set and feverish writings would make sense.Clearly, she has something others want, making her the key.Meaning whoever is doing the hunting needs Sabera to get their heart’s desire.And based on what we’ve seen thus far, they’re really, really intent on getting their heart’s desire.”
