Spider - Michael Morley [96]
‘The fuckers must have disconnected our trace equipment,’ said Howie, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.
Tariq’s voice was calm and unemotional. ‘Pan Arabia believes it is in the interest of both the American public and the victim involved to have broadcast the footage. Not only are we upholding the democratic principles of freedom of speech and the right to uncensored news, but we are broadcasting this material to ensure that the complacency of the FBI and the police services across America is brought to a rapid end. If this young woman dies, then her blood will be on their hands. We urge all law-enforcement officials everywhere to make her survival a priority. If, today, America puts the same money and resources into finding this woman as it does into fighting foreign wars, then by tonight she will be home safely with her loved ones.’
‘Son of a bitch!’ cursed Howie, banging the steering wheel again.
The newscaster came back to round the report off. ‘The terrorist organization al-Qaeda has already released a statement saying that it has no knowledge or involvement with the kidnapping or the video footage being exclusively screened on Pan Arabia. It went to great lengths to stress that it has always condemned any torture of individuals.’
Howie turned the radio down. ‘A veiled reference to Abu Ghraib?’
‘Not so veiled,’ said Jack.
Howie flicked on the indicator, checked his mirror and squealed the wheels as he spun the car around. ‘Let’s go see our friend Tariq. He might just be the perfect outlet for all my pent-up anger.’
63
Rome
Orsetta Portinari was furious. She’d rung Jack King’s cell phone a dozen times and the pig hadn’t even had the courtesy to return her calls. Screw him! Massimo said he hadn’t heard a word from him either, but that was no comfort to her. Although in Orsetta’s mind that proved that Jack was being unprofessional, rather than just blanking her out because she’d made a fool of herself by flirting with him. As far as she was concerned, Jack King might be attractive and clever, but at times he was also a pig-ignorant fool.
Orsetta slammed the door of her car; it made her feel better. His quick departure had enraged her. The Italian police had asked for his help, he had promised them his time and cooperation, and then all of a sudden he’d flown off to his precious America.
She felt betrayed. She felt rejected. More than anything though, she felt he was wrong to have gone.
Did he really think flying to New York was going to save this kidnapped woman? What evidence was there that she was even in America? As Orsetta had already said, anyone anywhere in the world could buy a copy of USA Today. Video footage of the paper was no proof, no proof whatsoever that the girl was American and was being held in America. The crime scene could easily be in Italy. Maybe that black hellhole was the very same room in which Cristina Barbuggiani had been killed. Maybe it was just a few miles from Cristina’s home in Livorno. Maybe it was in Rome, right under the noses of everyone at their HQ. Orsetta thought Massimo was absolutely right. Screw the Americans. She’d carry on working the case as though they didn’t exist, carry on working every bit as hard as possible because another innocent woman’s life might well depend upon her efforts.
64
FBI Field Office, New York
Special Agent Angelita Fernandez handed over the necrophilia research to the Task Force’s newest recruit, Sebastian Hartson. Straight out of the Academy,