“Never a dullmoment,” she muttered.
John chuckledand brushed the curtain aside, gesturing gallantly for her to enter. Francis,though, moved forward first, glaring at John and muttering beneath his breathin a language Adele didn’t understand.
He led the twoof them into a small booth, sheltered by the curtain, hidden from the rest ofthe room. Immediately, Adele spotted rolls of euros and other money scatteredacross the table. Just as quickly, the money seemed to vanish, as with threequick, practiced sweeping motions, Francis shoved the bank notes into drawers,a leather bag, and a backpack behind the table. He then moved over and sat in alarge, comfortable reclining chair. It wasn’t a desk chair, so much as a lazy-boy.Still, he leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, glaring out atthem.
A white shelfnext to them displayed jackets dangling from hangers.
“We’re in thecoat closet?” Adele asked.
“Don’t worryabout it,” Francis grunted. His nervous, twitching eyes set in his sallow facedarted from John to Adele. “Who are you?”
“My name isAgent Sharp,” Adele began, “and I’m—”
“Shush!” Francisinterrupted fiercely, a finger pressed painfully to his own lips, and his eyesdarted toward the gap in the curtains. John was in the middle of pulling thedrapes closed with a rattling sound as the rollers moved in the tracks above.
“Stow it withthe agent talk, hey?” Francis muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “What doyou want?”
“Answers,” Johnsaid, turning to face the small man behind the desk.
Francis crossedhis legs and glared sullenly up at John from his cushioned chair. “I don’t knowif I have any answers,” he snapped. He began twisting his hoodie’s drawstringsonce more.
“John,” saidAdele, “this is your contact? The one involved with the organ traders?”
John noddedonce, and Francis quickly protested, shaking his head. His sallow cheeks seemedeven less healthy in the darkness of the closet, shaded by the danglingjackets. “Hang on,” he said quickly. “I’m not involved with organtraders. I had some dealings with their accountants—when I figured out whatthey were up to, I got out. Right quick,” he said. He adjusted his hoodie as ifit were a jacket. “I have a reputation to maintain,” he muttered.
John grunted. “Youowe me, Francis. I got you out of prison.”
Francis stuckout his chin and clenched his fists around the ends of his hoodie drawstrings. “Itold you everything I knew last time. Organ traffickers are the worst. I’mnot involved with those folks or anyone they work with anymore.”
John leaned putone foot on Francis’s desk, supporting his chin with an arm lodged against hisupraised knee. “You know things, Francis. It’s why I got you out of prison, andit’s why they pay you.”
The informantdidn’t blink.
“I’m not askingyou to sell out anyone you’re in bed with—see? You dislike the traffickers asmuch as me. A little bit of information—that’s all I’m asking.”
Francis tried tospeak, and for a moment it looked like he would refuse, but then his eyesflicked to Adele and he sighed.
“The Serbians?”he asked.
John nodded. “Arethey back?”
Francis frowned.“Most of them are still in prison after last time.” This time he spoke soquietly Adele had to lean forward to hear. “And, I might add, if they ever findout I was the one who—”
“They won’t findout,” John said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to let that happen, okay. Ijust need to know if any of them are setting up shop again.”
Once more,Francis glanced between Adele and John. “Do I get a bonus for this?”
Before Johncould reply, Adele interjected, “We’ll see what we can do. Look, if there’sanything you can tell us, I’ll owe you one.”
Francis studiedher a moment longer. “All right, Interpol,” he said, steepling his fingers beneathhis chin. “But don’t think I won’t collect.”
John frowned atAdele, but she kept her gaze fixed on the informant.
“Look,” Francissaid with an audible swallow, “like I said, most of those psychos are still inprison. Thank God… as you well know,” he added, with a look at John. “And, likeI said, I’m not involved at all with any illicit business like that.”
John waved hishand in a quick circle, as if to say, Get on with it.
“But,” Francis said,dangling the word like a baited worm in front of a famished trout, “I haveheard there are a couple of the old Serbs getting things back up and running.They don’t have the same connections as before, mind you,” he added, “but Ihear they’re working with someone else now.”
John raised aneyebrow. “Who?” he demanded.
“Look, I toldyou. I don’t know much. You bastards keep a close enough eye on me as it is.”Francis trailed off, glaring at John, but then his shoulders sagged. “Most ofthem are still in prison. But a couple of the nephews of the lead guy are runningtheir own chop shop out in a warehouse district. There’s another shop, a motorplace, but it’s a front. The real business is in the back.”
“What’s theplace called?” John growled.
“Debosselage etAutomobiles,” he replied quickly. He kept his voice low, whispering now. Adeleglanced from the curtain back to Francis.
“They’re pairedup now,” he said, quickly. “A German doctor. I don’t know who.”
John snorted.
“I’m not lying,”Francis protested. “Seriously, I don’t know who. I wish I did.”
John hesitated,then raised an eyebrow toward Adele.
“I…” she began,still watching Francis, then trailing off. She frowned at the informant. “AGerman doctor? Why German?”
Francis shookhis head. “Damn if I know. I didn’t pry much. Trust me, there are people askingquestions that I don’t want to have answers to. It’s not like it’s safe for meout here anyway. People already suspect me.”
“They should,”said John, cheerfully. Then he turned to go, but before he left, John reachedover and began rummaging through Francis’s pockets.
The informantprotested, shouting, but John held up a quieting finger, and Francis fellsilent. Then John fished out a roll of bills they’d spotted earlier. He tookthe money, bounced it a couple times in his hand, examining the rubber bands wrappedaround the money, and whistled softly. “That’s a lot of dough,” he said.
Francis cursedbeneath his breath, shaking his head.
“John,” Adelesaid, frowning at the money, but John ignored her and pocketed it.
“Look,” Francisprotested,
