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Chapter 10

Sin sat in the cramped interview room on a hard-plastic chair with his hands cuffed to the table in front of him. The PC who read him his rights stood in the corner with his chest puffed out like a prized bird, staring. He was allowed to call Gabriel, stating he was his solicitor. They had taken his gun, knife, wallet and Charlotte's passport and credit card when they processed him and shoved him in a cell for a while before moving him to this room. And here, he waited.

DI Thomson opened the door and sat down in a chair opposite him, undoing the handcuffs. Sin adjusted his white dress shirt and suit jacket, sitting up straighter.

Thomson pressed a button on the table and the red light of a video camera began to glow in the corner of the room. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Stuart, tell us where Charlotte Hanover is?"

Sin remained quiet.

* * *

Charlotte knew something was wrong as soon as Gabriel hung up the phone. She was trying on a dress for tomorrow and the saleswoman was helping her adjust the sleeves. He gave her a tight smile. "I'm afraid we're going to have to wrap it up here," he said. He handed the woman a credit card. "We'll take everything you've set aside plus the dress, if you could package it quickly."

"Of course, sir."

It would come to an exorbitant amount of money. "Gabriel, I can't accept all this."

"Yes, you can, and you will. Go change. And hurry." She could already hear him on the phone again when she shut the door.

"Alex. We have a problem." His voice faded as he walked off.

Charlotte finished changing and came out of the dressing room. The saleswoman put her gown in a garment bag and Gabriel picked up the other packages. She followed him to his car.

"What's going on?" she asked, getting in.

"A minor complication with Sinclair."

"What?"

"He's been arrested for kidnapping you." He looked at her as if trying to gauge her reaction. "I need to get to the police station."

Police station. They were going to a police station. It would be the closest she had come to help since this whole ordeal began. She grabbed her leg, hoping he wouldn't notice the shaking in her hand. They drove through the heart of the city. The streets were packed with traffic and it took over thirty minutes before they drove up to Police Scotland Headquarters. The building was made of glass and sat on the banks of the River Clyde. They pulled into the car park. Gabriel put his hand on the small of her back as they walked into the building to the reception desk.

"How may I help you?" a young WPC asked, manning the desk.

"Gabriel Gordon," he said, taking out his identification and showing it to the woman. "I'm Sinclair Stuart's solicitor and this is Charlotte Stuart."

"Sign in." She pointed to a ledger.

Gabriel took the liberty of signing them both in.

The WPC handed them visitor badges. "Down the hall and to the right," she said unenthusiastically, buzzing them through a gate.

They walked down the hall, their footsteps echoing on the cheap linoleum floor, and were stopped at another desk. The room smelled of strong coffee and stale sweat. "Gabriel Gordon, I'm Mr. Stuart's solicitor," he repeated.

"One moment, sir."

The door to one of the interview rooms opened. Charlotte caught a brief glance of Sin before it was shut again. An older man, with gray hair and a paunch belly hanging over the waistband of his brown suit pants, came toward them. "DI Thompson," he said. "Your client is in room three." He glanced over at Charlotte, pausing.

"Charlotte Stuart," Gabriel said calmly. "Mr. Stuart's wife."

The inspector's eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of his head. "Charlotte Hanover?" he questioned.

She nodded.

"Also, my client. If you question her, I'll be present." Gabriel put his hand on her shoulder. She knew he was afraid she was going to talk.

Thomson wiped a hand across his forehead. "Fucking Hell." He turned to the PC at the desk. "Get Donna."

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