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Cora nodded. "We'll work together from here. Now, Marcel Damian. Tell us more about him."
"He joined us about a year ago, but he's been causing problems almost since the first day. He's too aggressive, too confrontational. Humility is a key quality here. He's been on the verge of being asked to leave several times, but we have always felt that he showed promise in other ways, and we should try to correct him and guide him. We kept trying until about six weeks ago when we decided that his time was up."
Cora exchanged a look with Gabe. In terms of personality, this was the most promising lead they had so far, and he lived close by.
"We'll check them both out. Addresses, please," she said.
He looked angry at having to hand over the paper. Relinquishing any form of control clearly did not come easy to him. Ironic, considering that he controlled his followers with such a velvet-coated iron hand.
"We'll let you know," Cora said. “Send the other information through as soon as you have it.”
She walked out with Gabe behind her. As soon as she was in the open air, she turned to Gabe.
"That hand," she said. "You need to get it checked out."
Gabe shook his head. “It's fine, I'll be okay," he said.
But Cora was not convinced. His hand had been cut by a rusty blade. He needed to go to the doctor and make sure there was no infection.
"This could turn bad," she said firmly. "You have to get it checked out."
Gabe shook his head equally firmly.
"I'm not wasting time going to the doctor now. It can wait. It bled a lot, and if anything was in there, any dirt, it would have flushed out. Believe me, Cora. I've done woodworking for years. I've had more cuts and more nail piercings and more grazes than most."
“Gabe…” Cora gritted her teeth. She'd forgotten just how stubborn Gabriel Finch could be. But he was right. Time was of the essence. She wasn't going to give up on getting his hand seen, though. She was just going to reluctantly postpone it for a couple of hours.
"I'm going to call my contact in the FBI, Saul Brady," she said. "I'm sure he'll help us out and check out Lucas," she said. "For now, let's go and speak to Marcel."
They headed quickly for the car.
While Gabe drove, Cora made her phone call.
"I'm in Paris," she said when Brady picked up. "Well, a few miles outside of it, anyway." It was already after one in the afternoon. Their investigation was eating up the hours, but at least that meant that America was wide awake and at their desks. And Brady was an early riser.
"You want information?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "I want to know if a certain man has really left France and gone back to Germany. He’s a potential suspect in a case I’m busy with. If I give you his details, can you do some research?"
"Yes. It'll take around fifteen minutes," he said.
“Are you able to, without any trouble?” She knew he was putting his job on the line by helping her. She didn’t want to make him say anything personal to her if he was with others, but his tone clued her that he was alone.
“Trouble? I thought that was your middle name,” he said, causing her to smile wryly.
“I thought it was our team motto,” she quipped back.
He laughed. "I'm always glad to help you. And always relieved to hear your voice, given that motto. Are you doing okay? You keep ahead of the bad stuff?”
Now that was personal, and the words lanced deep. But she rallied back again. "It's far behind. I'm leaving it in my dust. I love being an investigator, helping people."
“Good to hear.”
“But this is a tough case, Saul.”
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“It’s very personal. Very important. I – I don’t want to say more. If it goes well, I’ll tell you. And I really appreciate your help.”
