AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Get all the information you need from him. The Americans will deny it, but clearly there has been very precise coordination between the authorities and these kidnappers.”
“I will get to the bottom of it.”
“Good. And once you do, deal with this Theo Knight appropriately.”
Utkin chuckled. “Who shall I send?”
Kava considered the question. “Someone who will make this American wish he’d never been born.”
“I have just the right operative in mind.”
“You always do,” said Kava, and he ended the call.
Chapter 17
British Airways Flight 208 from Miami landed at Heathrow as scheduled. Jack had done all the right things to avoid jet lag. His wristwatch was set to London time before boarding. Plenty of water, no alcohol on the flight. He even managed to sleep a few winks before landing. Still, he was having a hard time accepting that it was time for breakfast, Wednesday.
“Charing Cross police station,” Jack said as he climbed into the taxi.
“Not one of our top tourist destinations,” said the driver.
The phone call from Amongus had put Jack in the unusual posture of “ear witness” to a crime. He’d immediately told Andie, who’d connected him to the FBI’s legal attaché at the U.S. embassy in London. Amongus was their problem. Theo was Jack’s.
The taxi took him straight to the police station. Oddly enough, it struck Jack as the kind of place that actually could have been a tourist destination, at least for fans of British noir or Agatha Christie who wanted to step back in time to a station house of another era. The four-story building was triangular in shape, conforming to streets that were laid out long before surveyors with precision instruments platted the emerging cities of the New World into grid systems. An iron fence ran the length of the building, the black pickets standing like prison bars against the white stone façade. An old red phone booth punctuated the street corner at the narrow end of the triangle. Four fluted columns with Doric capitals marked the main entrance, and the globe-shaped lanterns on either side of the mahogany doors were straight out of Dick Tracy.
Jack entered the lobby, where the criminal defense solicitor he’d retained for Theo had agreed to meet him. Instead, he was met by awoman who was dressed like a lawyer but spoke with a decidedly American accent.
“Madeline Coffey,” she said, shaking Jack’s hand.
“You don’t sound very British,” said Jack.
“That’s because I’m from Detroit,” said Coffey. “I’m the FBI’s legal attaché for the U.S. embassy here in London.”
“Where’s Mr. Carlisle, the solicitor I hired?”
“I sent him back to his office.”
“Why?”
“Can we go for a short walk around the block,” she said as she stepped toward the door. Jack followed her out of the station house and down the front steps.
“You hired a very fine lawyer in Mr. Carlisle,” she said as they started down the sidewalk. “As a Crown prosecutor, he handled dozens of extradition cases involving U.S. citizens. That international experience has served him well as the go-to criminal defense solicitor for foreigners charged in the UK.”
They passed Bright’s Bakery on the corner. Jack wondered if London police craved doughnuts as badly as their American counterparts. Probably preferred scones. Or crumpets, whatever the hell those were.
“He came highly recommended,” said Jack.
“Fortunately, Mr. Knight will not be in need of his services.”
“Why not?”
“There will be no charges brought against him.”
Jack stopped on the sidewalk. “Then let’s go back and get him. He should be released. Now.”
“He’s no longer there.”
“Where is he?”
