“You can tell Mr C”—the cryptic prick—“that I’m currently working on it.”
“Not fast enough,” said the blond who was clearly the mouthpiece of the trio. The other two were just there for bulky decoration when they weren’t jumping me, both standing slightly behind so I could barely see them in my peripheral.
“You’ve got two choices,” Mouthpiece said, taking what I guess was meant to be a threatening step forward. “Either you do what you’re told…”
Something cold and hard was pressed to the back of my head. I didn’t need a genius’s IQ to know it was a gun.
“Or we’ll find someone more capable,” he finished.
“Karl,if you’re going to be this dramatic, I’ll just take the bullet.”
The gun clicked.
“Wait! Christ, it was a joke. You really don’t do humour, do you,Gunter? Wait, is that how I’m supposed to pronounce it?Goonter?”
Mouthpiece stared, dark eyes clearly unamused.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve mastered the German stare? It’s quite disconcerting.”
He sighed, as if he was already done with me. “Mr Finn…”
“Yes,Klaus?”
“My name’s Hans Jürgen.”
I dramatically winced.“I’m sorry.”
Jürgen’s lips pursed at the same time a vein pulsed in his forehead. “My boss is getting impatient. Have you found the USB drive?” he demanded.
“It’s only been a couple weeks. I’m good, but not‘track-down-something-lost-twenty-years-ago’good. You’ll have to give me a little longer.”
“But you’ve found Geraldine Hoffman?” His brow raised at my silence, the gun pressing harder into my head. “Where is she?”
“Look, I’ve found her kid, which means I’m closing in.”
Jürgen stilled, dark eyes narrowing. “Herkid?” he clarified.
“Yeah, you know… the cute blonde in the photographs?” A chill swept through the warehouse, and I was pretty sure we were being watched by crows. White specks of bird shit were everywhere.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice cracking like a whip. “Is she in this city?”
“Just tell Mr C I’m handling it.” I kept my tone even, though I knew the moment I gave up the answer, I’d lose allmy leverage and maybe end up as the next stain on the floor. “He’ll get his USB drive, and I’ll be thirty grand richer. Win-win.”
Jürgen exchanged a glance with one of the men behind me before fixing those cold eyes back on mine. “Find the data, Mr Finn,” he said. “Or your life will be forfeit.”
Chapter 8
Ryder
The lock on Violet’s flat clicked into place, and I quietly slipped inside before anyone in the corridor noticed. The door whispered shut behind me, my presence no more than a ghost as I grinned at the dark-haired woman who was currently taping something to the window.
Wait, was that… newspaper?
Jesus Christ.
Geraldine Hoffman had been here the entire fucking time. What kind of shitty luck let me miss her on my first sweep?
I really needed to invest in some signal boosters or something for the cameras, because she either entered and then didn’t leave the flat since I was last here, or every time she did, it was precisely when I wasn’t watching the feed.
