Xander took the seat next to him and reclined, arms crossed, mulling over exactly what he wanted to say. Which, in front of the detective, was limited.
A few minutes had passed when Elmahdy let out an impatient sigh and rubbed his chin. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
“Thank you.”
“This is only going to be a waste of time, I’m afraid.”
Here he goes again.
“Where else do you suggest we look, then? Her flat has been searched. Nothing. We’ve watched all the surveillance footage. Nothing. We’ve talked to every—”
“I understand you feel helpless, but—”
“I’m not going to sit around and wait for a clue to drop into my lap.” It was all he could say rather than tell Elmahdy the real reason for wanting to come: to punch Faris in the face.
“That’s not what I’m suggesting.” Elmahdy shifted in his seat. “I just think you’re too… invested.”
“You better believe I’m invested.” Xander scowled. If only he could have come alone. “Still waiting for you to give me a better suggestion. And I don’t want to hear ‘keep calm’ again.”
At sounds of movement outside the room, Elmahdy bumped him with his elbow and tilted his head toward the door.
Xander’s spine stiffened and his muscles tensed as Faris was led inside, each side flanked by one of the somber prison guards. At a snail’s pace, he approached their table. Like he knew each step squandered every precious second.
The prisoner ever so slowly eased himself into a chair across from them and nodded up at the prison guards, who turned and left without a word.
Although his hair had grown longer since the trial, Faris still had it greased and combed back. The wrinkles at the side of his eyes and on his forehead had deepened, otherwise he looked very much unaffected by his incarceration.
“You summon me out of my charming little home for this?” Faris flashed a forced smile at Elmahdy. “I was just boiling water in my kitchenette for a cup of tea.”
“Don’t play coy with us, Faris,” Xander growled, leaning forward, eyes narrowed. “You know exactly why we’re here.”
The inspector placed a hand on Xander’s shoulder and pressed him back into his seat.
“Let me handle this,” Elmahdy whispered.
“My, my. Touchy,” Faris said smoothly, that ridiculous smile still plastered across his face.
“Mr. Al-Rashid,” the detective said, turning back to the prisoner, “I assume you haven’t heard of the latest developments concerning Leila Sterling. Three days ago, we received word that after leaving her place of work on Tuesday evening in Saqqara, Egypt, she never arrived back home. Due to your past with Ms. Sterling, it is only natural that we, uh, seek your cooperation in helping us discover her whereabouts.”
“In other words, you’re accusing me of being responsible for that cow’s disappearance?” Faris stuck out his lower lip and raised his eyebrows.
Xander jumped up, the feet of his chair screeching across the floor, and leaped toward him. “Don’t call her that again, you—”
Elmahdy grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back before he could get close enough to Faris to throw a punch.
“Stay calm,” Elmahdy hissed in Xander’s ear.
Xander took in a deep breath through his nostrils and returned to his seat, still dreaming of how sweet it would feel to break Faris’s nose.
“Now, as I was saying, we are investigating any possible connections,” Elmahdy continued. “Perhaps you have a name for us? Or maybe you know someone we could talk to who might help?”
Faris watched them and his smug smile slowly returned. He rubbed his short beard with his hand, uncrossed and crossed his legs, sighed.
“Yes?” Elmahdy’s voice had developed a slight edge.
Xander’s lip curled. At last, the detective was also losing patience. Maybe they would both end up punching Faris in the face.
A satisfied expression remained glued on Faris’s face. “No.”
Xander banged a fist down the table. “Tell us what you’ve done.”
“Keep it down in there or your session is over,” an officer shouted from the doorway.
“Mr. Harrison, please,” Elmahdy said through gritted teeth.
Faris remained motionless in his seat, calmly blinking at them as if unnerved by Xander’s outburst. “I don’t like the tone of this conversation,” the prisoner said, glancing over his shoulder at the guards.
“Mr. Harrison will behave himself. Let me try again.”
Faris swung his gaze back to Elmahdy and narrowed his eyes.
The inspector clicked his tongue. “You adamantly deny any involvement in her disappearance?”
“Correct.” Faris nodded.
Xander shifted in his seat and the detective shot him a furious glare.
“If you are not directly involved,” Elmahdy went on, his voice soothing, “is it possible you are aware of any threats made against Miss Sterling? Not necessarily any made by yourself, but by other parties.”
