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