“Who gave you that intel?” Colin didn’t even attempt to disguise his scepticism.
Amin smiled. “You know I can’t, and I won’t, tell you that.”
As he spoke, his smile disappeared, numerous micro-expressions moving over his face. He was busy piecing together the information he had with the questions we were asking and the result was causing him distress.
“Where did you go after you left the café this morning?” Manny’s tone was no longer friendly.
Amin frowned and shifted in his chair. “We split up to cover more ground.”
President Godard held out his hand to stop Amin’s explanation. He looked at Ambassador Kanian. “My people were never informed you had an investigative team here, Sirvan.”
“President Godard, please.” The ambassador raised both his hands, palms out. “Don’t even think this was espionage. This is not what was happening here.”
Manny snorted. “What do you call Iranian detectives in France following a young French citizen to a café and surveilling him?”
Amin’s face lost some of its colour. “We’re not spies. We were just following up on a lead that might give us back our artefacts.”
“Where did you go?” Manny asked again.
“After the café, I went to my hotel room to meet with a contact. And no, I won’t tell you his name. He’s a good man. He helps many of our people here in your city.”
“Hassan? The hawala broker?” The risk I took to voice my suspicion was immediately rewarded.
Amin’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Don’t make trouble for Hassan. He’s a good man.”
“We know,” Colin said. “Where did you go after your meeting with Hassan?”
Amin looked up and left—recalling a memory. “I went to the ATM to get more cash. Then I went to the mall to buy my wife perfume. She has enough bottles to open a shop, but she wanted something from France.”
Manny’s phone rang. The ambassador frowned, the corners of his mouth pulling down. President Godard wasn’t surprised when Manny answered the call and put the phone on the table. “You’re on speakerphone.”
“Hi, everyone.” Francine’s voice was clear. She was excited. “I’ve been listening to your conversation and Amin has been telling the truth.”
Amin jumped out of his chair and looked around the room. “You’ve been listening? Wait. How do you know I’ve been telling the truth?”
Colin also got up and walked to Amin. He reached out, but didn’t touch Amin’s jacket. “May I?”
Amin frowned, looked at Colin’s hand, then to the ambassador before nodding.
Colin lifted the jacket’s lapel and took out the button camera.
“This is not acceptable.” Ambassador Kanian pulled the cuffs of his suit jacket and pushed his shoulders back. “Actually, this is an outrageous invasion of privacy.”
“Pah! I wouldn’t be calling the kettle black here, Ambassador. That button camera just exonerated Amin.”
“What do you mean?” Amin walked back to the table and sat down, staring at the phone.
“Hold your horses.” Manny pulled his phone closer. “Did you alert Dan?”
“I did. They’re on their way to pick up Shahab.” She paused. “Well, that’s a problem.”
“What now?”
“Shahab’s button camera just went dead.”
“You planted one on Shahab as well?” Amin’s brows pulled together in grave concern. He blinked a few times and I watched as he added yet another piece of information to his conclusions. He gasped and looked at Colin. “What did he do?”
“First problem is where he is.” Manny looked at his phone. “Is he still in the building?”
“Uh, no,” Francine said. “He left as soon as you guys went into the conference room.”
“He suspected something.” Colin sighed. “Can you track him on the city cameras?”
“I’m working on it.” The sound of a mouse clicking and keyboard strokes came through the phone.
“Officer Shahab was the one who suggested they wait outside and only Officer Amin and I meet with you.” The ambassador looked just as worried as Amin. “What did Officer Shahab do?”
“He went to the house of one of the victims,” President Godard said. “Only our investigators know about that crime scene. And the killer.”
“We think he killed all four of the victims.” Colin paused. “After he tortured them for hours.”
Amin put both his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide.
“What can we do?” Ambassador Kanian asked.
“Help us find Shahab.” Manny glared at Amin.
He lowered his hands and put them palms down on the table. “I honestly don’t know where he is.” He shook his head. “It all makes sense now.”
“What does?” Colin asked.
“The fact that we were always at least three steps behind the art looters and the drug traffickers.” He fell back into his chair. “Shahab has been controlling the inflow of intel for years. He’s been in this unit for eleven years and on my team for two. He knows every case and every lead.”
Ambassador Kanian’s mouth opened in shock. “We have to let the police chief know about this breach.”
Amin nodded absently, then looked at Colin. “Does our damaged rental car have anything to do with this?”
“What damage?” Colin’s tone was harsh. “When did this happen?”
“Yesterday. Shahab took the SUV to meet a friend for lunch.”
“That was around the time we were being pursued by two SUVs.”
“Two?” Amin shook his head vigorously. “No, we only rented one.”
“How was it damaged?” the ambassador asked.
“Shahab came back and said that some hooligans had thrown rocks at the car and even burning rags when they saw he looked Arabic. They were shouting all kinds of racist slurs at him.” He frowned. “There were really burn marks on the paint.”
I swallowed. That moment when the SUV came racing through the explosion and the shots entered Colin’s vehicle, the glass raining down on us—it all rushed back at me and brought tightness to my throat.
“Um, guys?” Francine’s voice pulled me out of my spiralling thoughts. “Shahab’s gone.”
“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Manny was almost shouting.
“I caught him on three city cameras leaving the president’s residence, but then he went into a private parking area and disappeared.”
“Cameras in the parking?” Colin asked.
“They’re on a closed system.”
“Get that intel.” Manny got up. “Now.”
“Oh, God.” Francine’s voice broke, sending a rush of adrenaline through my system. “Oh, no.”
“Francine, what’s wrong?” Manny’s words were breathless, a flash of fear joining his concern.
Even Amin and the ambassador leaned closer to the phone.
“Caelan.” Emotion made Francine’s voice extremely unsteady. “Oh, Genevieve, our boy genius is missing.”
Chapter NINETEEN
“Where the bloody hell is he?” Manny’s frustrated question came out loud enough to register as a shout. I looked into the team room to see him rubbing both his hands over his short hair. “It’s been two bloody hours.”
I cringed at Manny’s use of words, truly hoping that Caelan had not bled at all during these two hours. I didn’t know if Caelan was even able to cope with what was happening to him at the moment.
Daniel had been the one to discover Caelan was missing. He’d gone to Caelan’s flat to check up on him and found it deserted. Caelan’s backpack had been on the floor of his apartment, the contents all over the living room floor. Daniel had found Caelan’s two stress balls still in the backpack and another four amongst the scattered contents. Caelan’s phone was also on the floor, broken as if someone had stomped on it numerous times. We had no way to track Caelan. And he didn’t have his stress balls to help him cope.
Using the same method as at Adèle’s house, Shahab had been dressed as a police officer and had told the officers protecting Caelan he was there to relieve them. It had been past their shift-end, so they hadn’t questioned Shahab or the fact that he’d come alone. They’d been too happy to go home.