and the father who was prosecuted for taking his child back to Greece without the mother’s permission.”
“Oh, right,” Evan said. “I remember that one. Under British law he wasn’t allowed to take his child out of the country without permission of the other parent. But that wasn’t in Wales, was it?”
“No, but it came up in discussion at a training session, and the bloke who was doing the training was from the National Criminal Intelligence Service. He talked us through the various steps. So if this now counts as a criminal abduction, then the next step is to contact the NCIS. Then they get in touch with the Foreign Office, and they are our liaison with Interpol.”
“Liaison with Interpol. Well, doesn’t that sound exciting?” Sgt. Howell Jones joked. “What an exciting life you blokes lead. Much better than recovering stolen cars.”
“Do we have a last known address for him in Russia?” Watkins asked, ignoring the comment.
“I’ve got an address of next of kin and a place of birth,” Glynis said. “They would be a good place to start, wouldn’t they? I doubt he’d go back to his last known address before he defected, especially not if the Mafia are still after him.”
“Don’t you think all this may be a bloody waste of time and money?” The other sergeant spoke for the first time, a heavily accented Welsh voice. “I mean, if the father gets as far as Moscow with her, we haven’t a hope in hell of getting her back.”
“Don’t be such a pessimist, Bill,” Watkins said.
“Well, can you see the Moscow police sending him back to us to be prosecuted? Or making him give up his own kid when he’s the rightful father?” the sergeant asked.
“That doesn’t mean we don’t try.” Glynis frowned at him. “And even if he’s the father, that doesn’t mean he has the right to take her out of the country without his spouse’s permission, unless he has been granted sole custody, which we don’t know yet.”
“I’m just saying they might not see the law the same way we do,” the sergeant said. “In many societies the father is the only one with rights, isn’t it? They keep their women in their place at home, not running around like they do here.” He shot a glance at Howell Jones, the other sergeant, and it was obvious that the barb was aimed directly at Glynis.
“Not in Russia,” she said evenly. “In Russia women drive tanks and bulldozers, remember.”
Evan grinned to himself.
“I don’t think it’s up to us to make any decision.” Watkins cut short the discussion before it turned ugly. “Once we hand the information over to NCIS and the Foreign Office, it’s their headache, isn’t it? We’ve done our bit. Glynis?”
“Don’t say it—you want me to contact the NCIS for you. All right.” She picked up her pen and added another item to the list in front of her, then looked up as another thought struck her. “And isn’t there some kind of missing child database? We should definitely get her on that.”
“On the computer, you mean?” Watkins asked.
“All right. Me again.” Glynis laughed. “I don’t know whether to feel flattered or like the general dogsbody.”
“But you’re so quick at these things. It would take Evan and me half a day to turn the bloody thing on.” He got to his feet, nodding in satisfaction. “That should give us enough to get on with, shouldn’t it? Let’s meet back here at four this afternoon. That gives us all plenty of time to do what we have to.”
“And what exactly will you be doing, sir?” Evan asked.
“Me? I’m supervising, coordinating, and I might pay Mrs. Sholokhov another visit too. Just in case there is something she’s remembered or hasn’t told us. And I’m bearing responsibility on my shoulders, so none of your cheek. Got it?”
“Oh, yes sir, absolutely.” Evan and Glynis exchanged a grin as they left the room.
“Glynis, do you know how one goes about contacting media?”
Evan asked as they
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