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Chapters (72)
  1. ALSO BY ROBIN COOK
  2. TITLE PAGE
  3. COPYRIGHT
  4. DEDICATION
  5. CONTENTS
  6. PREFACE
  7. PROLOGUE
  8. Chapter 1
  9. Chapter 2
  10. Chapter 3
  11. Chapter 4
  12. Chapter 5
  13. Chapter 6
  14. Chapter 7
  15. Chapter 8
  16. Chapter 9
  17. Chapter 10
  18. Chapter 11
  19. Chapter 12
  20. Chapter 13
  21. Chapter 14
  22. Chapter 15
  23. Chapter 16
  24. Chapter 17
  25. Chapter 18
  26. Chapter 19
  27. Chapter 20
  28. Chapter 21
  29. Chapter 22
  30. Chapter 23
  31. Chapter 24
  32. Chapter 25
  33. Chapter 26
  34. Chapter 27
  35. Chapter 28
  36. Chapter 29
  37. Chapter 30
  38. Chapter 31
  39. Chapter 32
  40. Chapter 33
  41. Chapter 34
  42. Chapter 35
  43. Chapter 36
  44. Chapter 37
  45. Chapter 38
  46. Chapter 39
  47. Chapter 40
  48. Chapter 41
  49. Chapter 42
  50. Chapter 43
  51. Chapter 44
  52. Chapter 45
  53. Chapter 46
  54. Chapter 47
  55. Chapter 48
  56. Chapter 49
  57. Chapter 50
  58. Chapter 51
  59. Chapter 52
  60. Chapter 53
  61. Chapter 54
  62. Chapter 55
  63. Chapter 56
  64. Chapter 57
  65. Chapter 58
  66. Chapter 59
  67. Chapter 60
  68. Chapter 61
  69. Chapter 62
  70. Chapter 63
  71. Chapter 64
  72. EPILOGUE

Jimmy shrugged and told his men to make sure Berman got in the car downstairs without incident. He would follow them as they drove out to Stansted Airport.

•   •   •

WHEN BURIM’S PHONE RANG, he could hardly hear it over the noise of the crowd. There must have been a hundred kids with guitars, all sitting in the center of the square, all playing the same stupid song.

“Is this Burim?” said a voice Burim didn’t recognize.

“Who is this?” Burim jammed a finger in his other ear and walked as fast as he could away from the din.

“I know where your daughter is being held.”

“If you do anything to her, I will kill you,” said Burim.

“I’m not holding her; there are two men,” said the voice. Burim was trying to place the accent. Not Albanian for sure, not European at all.

“Just tell me where she is.”

“Wimbledon.”

“The tennis place? Give me the address.”

The man gave Burim the details, which he memorized. Then the man asked “Where are you?”

“Central London.”

“You’d better be fast.”

Burim memorized what the man told him and started thumbing through the London A–Z guide he had bought for just this eventuality. When he found it, he phoned Harry and told him about the call.

“That’s weird,” said Harry. “Who do you think it was?”

“I have no idea, and I don’t care. Can you guys meet me or not? I’ve got to get the fuck over there. The caller warned me to be fast.”

“Okay, we’ll come, but Wimbledon is clear across London. It’s going to take us a while.”

“Well, get there as soon as you can. I might need backup.”

Burim hung up. Then, as he hurried toward the entrance to the Underground, he called George.

“Where are you?”

“Hammersmith,” said George. “You heard something, I can tell.”

“You have to meet me right now. It’s a place in Wimbledon. I will give you the details. Pia is there, I hope. Grab a cab and and wait for me, but don’t do anything until I’m there. Even if you happen to see her, don’t interfere, just follow. Got it?”

“Okay, okay. Oh, my God. Just tell me where to go.”

Burim gave him the address and repeated the admonition not to do anything before he arrived. He added that it could be dangerous for him and for Pia. As he started down the stairs he cursed the fact that he might have to rely on a goddamned stupid college kid like George.

•   •   •