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Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Tuesday, 26 January, 11:17 p.m.
––––––––
Both the female victims in Australia had been models, signed on by the same agency. The day before their murders, someone deleted their photos from the agency's website. Eli found the information; nothing is ever lost. Except the victims. At the time of the murders the agency had been small, since then, it grew into one of the most lucrative in Australia. With offices in Perth and Sydney at the time of the murders, it had since opened offices in Adelaide, Melbourne, and Darwin. Upon further investigation, I discovered the owner's father was a member of parliament.
I answered my phone without looking at the screen, expecting a call from Heather with an update on how my daughter's day was going.
Eli skipped all formalities. "He struck again, in Abu Dhabi—"
So close. "Aidan, do we have someone there who can help?"
"We don't." Aidan pulled out the chair next to mine.
"The woman is alive," Eli said.
I covered my mouth with my hand. First the condom, tied off to keep the semen inside, and now a surviving victim. Someone who perhaps saw our killer's face, and that of his helper. I rubbed my hands together. We were closing in on him.
"Are you sure she's one of his victims? He informs the police of the body and location after they're dead. Where is she?"
"This time he didn't mention a body, but said a victim, and that the police should hurry and send an ambulance. She's being taken to NMC."
Aidan dragged his hands down his face. "We don't have an operative or contact in Abu Dhabi. Our prisoner arrives in less than two hours. It doesn't give us enough time to travel to Abu Dhabi, speak to the victim, and get back here. Not without a helicopter. The victim might not be conscious, or she might have brain damage depending on the dose he gave her. Organophosphate poison, even though not always lethal, can have lasting effects on a patient. During my time in the ER I saw more than once the damage it's capable of."
"You go to Abu Dhabi, and I'll talk to Sanchez. You're a world-renowned doctor, Aidan, someone there would've heard of you." An invisible fist struck me in the gut as I said the words. I hated reminding Aidan of the life he had left behind, because of the actions of those we never speak about.
Rowan walked into the room with Liam right behind him. "What's going on?"
Aidan told them about the surviving victim. Liam spoke first, "I know a nurse who works at NMC."
"Define know?" I asked, despite knowing the answer.
Liam shook his head. "It lasted a week. A holiday fling. She knew it going in. No hearts broken or bad words spoken." He laughed once he realised he'd rhymed.
"Call her, and head to Abu Dhabi. Now. Rowan, go with him. Eli, see what else you can find."
"I can tell you one thing, the voice of the person who called it in isn't the same as with the other murders. For one, it's lower, and this time he again spoke English, but his accent is heavier. Most of the other times he spoke in that country's official language – or tried to at least."
Aidan pushed to his feet. "Arabic is the official language of Abu Dhabi, although English is widely spoken. The helper called it in this time. Why?"
"Perhaps the killer can't even attempt to speak Arabic. Which other countries did he speak English where English isn't either the main language or widely spoken?" I asked.
"Vietnam, Croatia, Greece, and Hungary," Eli said.
Aidan drew a deep breath and walked to the murder board. He picked up a red marker and started writing next to each of the countries I had listed earlier. Spanish next to Mexico, Argentina, Chile, and Spain. English next to Singapore, Hong Kong, Australia, South Africa, Malta, Scotland, and of course England. French next to Paris, France. German next to Austria and Switzerland.
I joined Aidan and watched his beautiful mind and hands at work. "Our killer speaks Spanish, English, French, and various German dialects."
Which made him educated, or one of the Walker brothers. I laughed at the idea, not out loud, and kept my bad humoured joke to myself. For a moment I thought about it. Joke aside, Rowan had said Biggie is his size. Liam's a womaniser. They've both travelled to all of the known murder locations. Between the two of them they spoke multiple languages. Rowan, the only one to have seen the tattoo on Biggie's hand. A tattoo which shouldn't be on someone's hand, according to Rowan. The Cayenne in Zurich could've been occupied by any of Fortius' enemies. A ruse to make me not consider them as suspects? Could they be the killers?
No. They were both in the house with us the entire time in Dubai. Although, Liam left for a couple of hours, longer than needed to pick up dinner. Perhaps the victim survived because the killer didn't waste time waiting for her to die.