Adele shot alook at Foucault. The executive’s frown had only deepened as he watched the twoof them. He said nothing, but Adele felt like she could read the disapproval inhis hawk-like eyes. Comments like these from John did little to mend fences.
John grunted,glancing between Foucault and the Serbian like a hound sizing up the greaterthreat. “What about the German?” he said.
Adele regardedthe naked bulb above the suspect illuminating the metal table. “Fine,” shesaid, quietly. “But let me do it alone.” She spoke so quietly John had to leanin to hear her over the churn of air through the vents above.
Foucault’s frowndeepened, and he crossed his arms, still staring. “This is the sum of it then?”he asked, across the room.
Adele turnedfrom John, dropping her shoulder and raising her voice. “Sir, if you just giveus a moment.”
Inwardly, shefelt a flash of frustration. Foucault’s presence wasn’t helping anything. Ifanything, it was giving the Serbian further motive to stay quiet, if only tosee the executive’s temper rise. At this thought, the mobster began rattlingoff in his language and making rude gestures in Foucault’s direction. For thebriefest moment, the executive’s ire rounded on the suspect.
Adele took thisinterlude to glance sharply at John, reaching out for his forearm andwhispering, “I’ll talk with the doctor. Just stay here. And… please, don’t doanything dumb.”
John shruggedher hand off and approached the Serbian once more as Adele moved toward thedoor. “Who do you send the organs to?” John demanded in French.
The Serbiangrinned, flashing a row of yellowing teeth.
Adele sighed andspoke to Foucault. “I’ll be right back. I just need to get a drink.”
The executive’sdark gaze glanced between Adele and John, as if he wasn’t sure who he shouldkeep an eye on. But then the Serbian made another remark and John lurchedforward, slamming his open palm into the back of the man’s head and sending himtumbling over in his chair, clattering against the ground with a shout.
Foucault whirledaround, yelling, and John held up his hands, muttering something about havingslipped. Adele winced, wondering how many weeks of unpaid leave John had justearned himself, before slipping through the door and shutting it behind her,cutting off the continued yelling from all three men.
Two agents werestanding outside the door in the hall—they’d come with the executive. One ofthem, a woman with short hair, raised her eyebrows at Adele.
“Productive?”she asked, nodding at the interrogation door.
Adele flashed aclenched smile. “Very.” Then she turned and hurried up the hall. Adele made herway down to the first floor and past the front desk, nodding at the clerk. Theagent behind the desk returned the nod. She moved toward the hall where theykept the holding cells.
In the holdingcells, unlike the interrogation rooms, there was no audio, but there wouldstill be cameras. She approached a row of bars set in the wall and flashed hercredentials to the man behind the desk. The desk sat in a bulletproof, sealedglass room, and the man reclined in a small chair, reading a comic. He glancedup, then lowered his head, peering through the thin slit in the bulletproofglass. “Yes?” he asked.
She pointedtoward the metal door. “Have to talk with the doctor.”
The attendantnodded once, glanced at her Interpol credentials—paused for a moment, frowning.
“Foucault’s inan interrogation,” Adele said. “He’s fine with it.”
The attendantconsidered this for a moment and then pushed the button. There was a buzzingsound, and the attendant held up a hand. “No firearm,” he said.
Adele unclippedher holster and slid it in the slot beneath the bulletproof glass. Theattendant took the weapon and placed it on the counter, jostling it up againsta wooden box filled with folders. He nodded toward the door, then returned hisattention to his comic.
Adele enteredthrough the metal door and continued down a hall framed by rows of barredcells. The DGSI didn’t keep many people in custody for long. All the cells wereempty except for the one at the far end of the hall on the left.
She heard a buzzand a click, and turned back to see a green light had turned red above the doorshe’d entered; she watched as it slammed shut. For a moment, she stood at theend of the hall and glanced toward the glinting lenses of the cameras above.
She heard avoice murmuring ahead of her from the cell at the far end. Foucault hadinstructed them that he wanted to be present for all interrogations, but this,she determined, would only hold them back. Especially with the German doctor.
“Hello,” said avoice in heavily accented French, “please, this is all a misunderstanding. Iwas just a volunteer. Please.”
Adele moveforward and then came to a stop directly in front of the cell.
Whoever hadplaced the German had been kind enough to give him the only cell with a window.The window was high in the ceiling and sealed with bulletproof glass, but itstill allowed a beam of sunlight into the dark hallway, illuminating the cell andmingling with the fluorescent light.
“You,” the mansaid suddenly, switching to German. “Please,” he said, “it was all amisunderstanding. Just one big—”
Adele held up ahand, rubbing at her palm. She thought of John’s injury—the scalpel he’d caughtprotecting her.
“Look,” shesaid, softly, “I’m not going to lie to you. It’s not good.” She watched theGerman. Now, without his scrubs or operating mask, he just looked like a man.He had gray hair and wrinkled cheeks, but was in impressively good shape forhis age. Perhaps he was a runner. Adele shook her head. “You’re in France now.Germany can’t help you. You broke the law—you were about to murder a man.”
The Germandoctor began wagging his head wildly. He had a thin, trembling jawline—his chinlike that of a woman. A large, pronounced nose protruded above pressed lips.Stubble had sprouted along his lip, but Adele judged, by the look of it, thathe preferred to keep it shaved.
“Please” theGerman said, “there has to be something you can do. You’re German? BKA?”
Adele shook herhead. “I work with Interpol. And others.” She leaned back, pressing hershoulder blades against the metal bars of the empty cell behind her. “I want tohelp you. Don’t believe me? What if I told
