“Are they on the phone?” Victor glances briefly at the cell phone in Woodard’s hand, and then up at him with a threatening gaze.
That would be a really stupid thing—having them on the other end of the phone while we’re discussing this—but sometimes Woodard doesn’t use that big brain of his for important things like common sense.
His chins jiggle as he shakes his head rapidly and drops the phone in the pocket of his khakis.
“No, I-I just got off the phone with them,” he says. “Sarah called me from the police station. I-I had to pretend I didn’t even know my daughters were missing.” Thankfully, their mother, Woodard’s wife, has been in London the past two days, otherwise she would’ve reported them missing and the police would’ve been involved a lot sooner. Also, his daughters are of legal age.
“They need me to come down to the station,” Woodard says eagerly, hoping that Victor will grant him permission to leave.
“Victor, no,” I say, looking over at him with desperation. “There’s no time. It could take hours just for them to file a report and try to recall what happened and to explain it and to—”
“He has to go, Izabel,” Victor says and my heart sinks like a stone. “We can’t draw any unnecessary attention. If Woodard doesn’t immediately go to the police station and”—he looks right at Woodard as if to drill the next sentence into his head—“put on a believable act, they will be questioning him next.”
“Not to mention,” Niklas speaks up, “we need to know what his daughters have to say about their abduction—who the fuck else is involved, what they look like, how many there are.”
I shoot Niklas with a hateful glare. He brushes it off.
He’s right though; it’s important that we know those things. Extremely important. But I still can’t convince myself that this is a good idea. It’s cutting it too close. Nora said that all of us had to be in the same room when whoever she came here for realizes why, and would have to confess in front of everyone. First Fredrik still hasn’t shown, then Dorian gets thrown in a cell, and now Woodard is leaving? I think I’m going to be sick.
“I will go in and talk with Nora next,” Victor says looking at me, trying to ease my mind. “I won’t wait until Woodard returns, but I’ll have to buy as much time as I can in there with her to give Woodard enough time to send me the information he obtains. I may be able to use it against her as well.”
Sighing deeply and spearing all ten fingers through the top of my hair, I stare at Nora in the screen for a moment.
“OK,” I give in. I drop my arms back at my sides and march over to stand in front of Woodard. “You listen to me James,” I demand, pointing my finger at him. “When you go into that station you need to play the part—you had no idea they’d been abducted, but you’re frantic and worried and you don’t even hear anyone else other than your daughters at first because you’re too busy hugging them, and looking them over for signs of abuse, and asking them if they’re OK. You’re distraught, James, do you understand?”
He nods briskly several times.
“One hour,” I go on, pointing my finger upward. “Don’t spend any more time in there than that. Say you want to take your daughters home. Tell them no more questions today. They need to rest. They’ve been through a traumatic experience. OK?”
He nods again.
“Get them out of that police station,” I say, “take them to a hotel somewhere and use one of your other identities to check them in. Then you come straight back here. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am, I-I got it.”
“Do not ever fucking call me ma’am.” I feel flames coming out of my eyes.
Niklas chuckles.
“O-OK. Sorry.”
I grab my phone from the table in front of the screens where I had been sitting earlier, punch in a number and put the phone to my ear.
“Take two cars and follow James Woodard to the police station,” I order one of our men stationed on the bottom floor of the building. “Stay out of sight, but watch his back going in and coming out. Then follow him to the hotel afterwards and watch over the room he leaves his daughters in.”
I hang up to three sets of eyes focused on me.
“What?” I ask, confused by their silence and stares.
Niklas laughs and shakes his head but says nothing. Victor’s lips turn up vaguely at one corner. Woodard has too much on his mind and just looks eager to leave.
“What are you still standing there for?” I ask Woodard, raising both of my hands, palms-up; my eyes hard and concentrating.
Woodard hurries out the door without another word.
15
Victor
Izabel stops me at the surveillance room door.
“I’m going to try getting in touch with Fredrik one more time,” she says. “I swear Victor, if Dina dies because of him—.”
I touch the side of her face with my fingertips.