Chapter 13
Rex
Gabriel's men arrived quiet and fast in two cars and a van. As soon as the vehicle doors opened, they fanned out. One of them, a young man with short hair, crouched beside the blood and pulled out his phone. "I can get forensics here within the--"
"No," I said, there wasn't time to wait around for any kind of result. Besides, I knew who the blood belonged to.
He looked from Gabriel to me. I held his gaze until he stood and moved away.
"It's impossible to say if she was conscious when he took her," I said. "If she was fighting, we could be looking for drag marks instead of carry marks."
Gabriel crouched and studied the lines in the dust with a quiet, resolved look on his face.
Good. I needed his head, not his feelings.
"Rahat's prints stop here," he said before standing and making his way to the second door.
"After that there are two sets of larger prints. Male. He had someone with him."
Then Adam wasn't the only fucker whose head would roll.
I walked the line from the door to the light and back again.
The blood was concentrated at a single point.
Rahat had gone down hard and fast. I tried to take comfort in how little blood there was, how the injury likely wasn't fatal, even if it had knocked her out.
But knowing how long she'd been with him, and what kind of man he was, had my stomach rolling.
"This was planned," I said. "The second man shows he was ready. He knew she'd come and he set out to take her."
Adam had read her, and framed a situation he knew she'd be compelled to face alone.
She'd walked into the dark to save the people she loved, and he knew she'd do it.
The anger I'd been holding in check since I'd found the glass in the kitchen, spiked.
My nostrils flared as I breathed through it, while still trying to push aside the headache that plagued me on waking.
Gabriel made another call. He moved away from me, speaking low and fast. Whoever was on the other end responded lightning fast. Gabriel listened for only a few seconds before giving three short instructions and ending the call.
"Sometimes it pays that London has one of the most extensive and dense CCTV networks in the world," he said, coming back. "I've got someone pulling the local feeds. There's a camera on the pub on Hopton Street and another on the bridge approach. It'll take twenty minutes. Tops."
"What about traffic?" Andrea asked him from behind.
"Already requested." Gabriel's phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at it before turning away and answering.
I fucking hated this. My hands wanted to do something, punch someone.
But there was nothing to do but think, and right now I didn’t want to think because it was leading nowhere pleasant.
I hated not knowing where she was or having the network to find her myself.
I walked to the far door and pushed through it to the narrow service passage.
Brick walls, cracked concrete underfoot, and a single dead lightbulb above.
I followed it to where it opened at the far end onto a side street that ran parallel to the riverside walkway, and glanced around.
There wasn't a single camera in sight. Adam would have chosen his route carefully.
There were two sets of tire marks on the curb.
One over the other. The arrival and departure of the same vehicle.
I crouched and studied the marks. Given their width, I'd say we were looking for a van.
Adam likely had Rahat out of here within minutes of her arrival.
I looked at the time on my phone. It was a little after midnight.
Two hours. He'd had her for two fucking hours.
My phone buzzed in my hand. "Footage is coming through," Gabriel said as soon as I answered.
I rubbed my aching temples and headed back inside.
His men had set up a small fold-out table and placed a laptop on its surface.
He turned the screen towards me. The image was grainy and timestamped 22:06.
Hopton Street. It was further along the road from where we'd arrived.
A black transit van was parked at a curb.
The back doors were out of camera view, and the plate was obscured by both the darkness and the angle.
Two figures crossed the frame on foot. Gabriel motioned to the one on the left.
"That's Adam Dexter," he said.
My nostrils flared and I tightened my knuckles into fists. I'd only got a brief glimpse of the guy in Velour. But his image was burned into my brain. But just as importantly, I recognized the other guy too.
"I saw this dude when Rahat and I went to a café. It's the place where the photo sent to Auntie’s was taken. There was also a van." I reeled off the license plate, fucking pissed that I hadn't thought to do it sooner.
Gabriel nodded and picked up his phone again.
I studied the freeze frame. The van sat low on the rear axle.
There was weight in the back. "She was in there," I said to no one in particular.
I looked at the map his man had spread across the table.
London, central and south. The building we were in was marked with a pen, as was the CCTV footage location.
Blackfriars Bridge was also marked with the time 22:09.
The van had gone north, away from the water, and into the city.
This building was just somewhere out of the way he could ambush Rahat.
It was a collection point, not a destination.
Maybe it was familiar to Rahat and he'd picked it because she'd recognise the location.
Maybe just because the fucking CCTV coverage was shit in this area.
He was long gone before we even knew Rahat was missing.
More than two fucking hours. I hated to think what might have happened in that time.
"He has a place," I said, placing my hands on either side of the map on the table. "Somewhere he controls." I looked at Gabriel, who'd just ended his call. "Where does he have money?"
"Offshore mostly. Property in Berlin. A holding company in Frankfurt." Gabriel paused and jabbed the map with his finger. "But he's here. He came back to London specifically."
This made me wonder about the sense of it all.
Adam saw Rahat and I the night we landed in London at Velour.
If he was there waiting to spot her, that means he knew we were coming, which is why he had time to run tracking at the hotel, and organise a trail.
He hadn't come back for a simple conversation.
He wanted something, something that he took a lot of time and effort setting up.
He removed me from the equation and walked Rahat out.
He had a plan, a set destination in mind.
Everything was mapped long before we set foot on British soil.
I just wish I knew what his fucking game was.
"Fuck," I said and rubbed my head again.
Andrea handed me a bottle of water and something for my headache. I took the pills, drank the water, and gave him a nod in thanks.
"Let's work on that assumption that he's here for more than Rahat," I said, hoping we were right and there was a bigger picture to look at here. "What’s the name of that holding company?"
"Lebsack, Von und Frami," he said.
I shifted to the laptop and pulled up the details of the holding company.
Along with anything registered to it in the UK.
"The holding company has a director's address registered in Bermondsey," I said while searching for it on the map.
"Here." I jabbed the map. It was still south of the river and so fucking close, Adam could have had her there in minutes.
"How solid is the address?" Gabriel asked.
"It's the only London asset I can find relating to either Adam or Lebsack, Von und Frami."
He looked at Andrea and then back at me. "It's not enough to go in blind," he said.
"No," I said. "But it's somewhere to start." I downed the last of the water in the bottle Andrea gave me. "We're leaving. But get eyes on it now. I want to know if the van's there. If there's an activity." I looked at Gabriel. "Tell your men not to fucking move until I get there."
Gabriel held my gaze for a moment. He wasn't used to being ordered around.
I knew he considered Rahat as family, that much was clear.
But she was my whole fucking world. Gabriel nodded and was on his phone in seconds.
I turned my attention back to the map. At the distance between where we were standing and Bermondsey where I hoped Rahat would be.
Adam had less than twenty fucking minutes.