Besides reinforced concrete skyscrapers, the most common building in New York is the brownstone. Brownstone is actually red brick, also known as "banzhuan" or "85 brick" in China. It was a must-have for home, travel, and robbery.
Later, with economic development, red bricks became blue bricks. Then, for environmental reasons, cement bricks made from fly ash and coal slag became more common. Red and blue bricks, which require firing clay, became less common.
If you build a house and refuse to plaster the walls, leaving the red brick exposed, you'll create the brownstone style that swept the world with the Industrial Revolution, a high-end architectural art form that moves countless petty bourgeoisie to tears.
For well-known reasons, these red brick houses from the last century, and even the century before, have become the most comfortable homes around New York, aside from the skyscrapers.
"Looks like this Swann makes quite a bit of money." Jack didn't knock, merely pausing at the doorway to listen for a moment. Then, with a snort, he pulled out his locksmith tools. "There's a body inside."
Reacher and Negley exchanged puzzled glances; they smelled nothing.
But the larger man, trusting Jack out of habit, stepped beside him, shielding him from the crowd and preventing passersby from noticing or misinterpreting him. He rested his hand on the Glock 20 at his waist.
With two soft clicks, the upper and lower locks unlocked. Jack gently pushed the door open, and a strong stench of corpse wafted out.
Reacher and Negley, standing behind him, sidled into the house, their pistols drawn in unison. After a search, they found the body of a golden retriever in the bathroom.
"The name on the collar is 'Max.' It must have died of thirst. It drank all the water in the toilet." Jack briefly examined the dog's body and turned to the larger man.
Negley, standing nearby, looked distressed. "That's a painful way to die."
"Swann would never let his dog die of thirst. If he doesn't come home, there's only one possibility: he's dead," Reacher said, his face livid.
His words were clearly tinged with emotion, and neither Jack nor Negley took them seriously. But it was a possibility, and given what they knew, it was highly likely.
Jack didn't try to comfort or analyze the situation, but instead looked around. "I checked the doors and windows leading to the backyard. There's no sign of intrusion. The arrangement of items in the room doesn't indicate Swann has any plans to leave. I'll notify the CSI team to come and double-check."
After Jack finished his call, the three of them didn't leave immediately, but waited in the driveway in front of Swann's house. Stella had just said on the phone that their team had found a crucial clue in the rubble of Franz's office.
"That's impossible. We've checked. We couldn't have missed something important," Reacher said, feeling his dignity as a special investigator challenged.
"CSI is the top crime lab in the country. I've worked with them many times. From a criminal investigation science perspective, they're the true experts."
In Jack's past life, the CSI crime lab existed only in movies and TV shows, but its prototype, or at least part of it, was actually the FBI's crime lab, so his boasting wouldn't necessarily be considered a boost to others' confidence.
"Thank you for the compliment," Stella, who had just gotten out of the car, said, looking smug. But she was taken aback when she saw his square chin as he turned his head.
"It's just for convenience. Let's talk in the car." Jack winked at her, offering a half-hearted explanation, then gestured to the Land Rover they had driven.
Behind Stella, several technicians in hazmat suits had already entered Swan's house, carrying toolboxes.
"Do you know anything about fax machines?" Stella's first question upon entering the car startled everyone.
Negley smiled. "Are you talking about that magical little box that, after a few rings and a noise, spits out an A4 sheet of paper?"
"I like your humor," Stella smiled back. "Fax machines also have built-in memory, and new faxes overwrite previous files.
Although the printer in Franz's office was smashed, the internal flash memory was intact. Our technicians recovered a few fax jobs and discovered this."
She then pulled out a printout of an official letter—more precisely, a reply letter from the DHS (Department of Homeland Security).
The letter was brief, describing an arms dealer suspected of supplying weapons to terrorist organizations, named Azari Mahmoud.
"Does that name look familiar?" Jack handed the printout to Reacher, who nodded slightly. "The abbreviations are also 'AM.'"
"What does that mean?" Stella and Negley asked in unison, seeing the two men engaged in a charade.
Jack briefly explained the two files on Franz's USB drive. The abbreviations in one of them were pseudonyms for "AM." Now, the first piece of the puzzle had been solved.
Reacher then read out the two handwritten notes at the bottom of the document. "Mahamed might be the man we're looking for. He's like a ghost, there's no picture of him.
It's signed 'Sanchez'!"
Niggli suddenly understood, but then had a new question. "So Sanchez and Orozco are helping Franz investigate this guy, but what does this have to do with Swann?"
"I don't know, but we'll find out," Reacher replied, his brow furrowed in a murderous tone.
"Okay, the rest is up to you, Jack. I'll go check out the house." Stella patted Jack's shoulder before getting out of the car, letting out a heartfelt sigh.
"Wow, terrorists, international arms dealers, why do you always get involved in these big cases, Jack?"
Jack sighed helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the number of friends I know, and how powerful they are." He then pulled out his phone and photographed the document for Jubal.
"What should we do next?" Negley started the car, looking from Reacher in the passenger seat to Jack in the back. "Are you FBI ready to get involved?"
"We've been involved," Jack rubbed his temples, aching for a headache, and quickly reviewed the information he had so far.
If we were to follow a timeline, Franz, the first to die, was a private investigator working for Wall Street. Sanchez and Orozco lived next door in New Jersey. They were likely dragged into this incident simply to do a favor for a friend, only to be murdered in the same tragic way.
Given that they were investigating a mysterious arms dealer working for a terrorist organization, this line of reasoning made sense, at least for now. So what about Swann's death or disappearance? Did Franz ask him for help, too?
Just then, Jack's phone rang. It was Jiejie, saying there were suspicious individuals near Franz's house again, suspected of being stalking and surveillance.
He first called Clay and Aubrey, who had been on standby at the Federal Building, and asked them to investigate Swann's whereabouts with Danny. Then he spoke.
"Someone will contact DHS about Azari Mahmoud's identity, and someone has been secretly investigating Swan's whereabouts. As for you two, are you interested in joining me in a bit of fishing?"
(End of this chapter)