That seemed almost mutually exclusive, but he replied, “I will.” He hesitated, then asked, “Did you take this assignment to get your career restarted? Or to work with me again?”
“I took this assignment to get justice for Harry Vance.” She added, “I have no personal or professional motives.”
“My bullshit detector just went off.”
“Okay, one-third justice, one-third career, and one-third you.”
“Good enough.”
She didn’t respond and they sat in silence, contemplating the math.
The bartender approached. “Do you want to see a menu?”
Taylor replied, “No thanks,” and grabbed her satchel. “Let’s sit somewhere more private.”
Brodie left a twenty on the bar and they brought their bags and beers to the sitting area, where they found a high-top table.
They sat, and Taylor said, “I understand why I was asked to be on this case. But I’m not sure about you.”
“Excuse me?”
Taylor leaned forward in her chair. “C’mon, Scott. Working under the supervision of a foreign government, with no real investigative power, dealing with the FBI and State Department dips and whoever else. This isn’t exactly playing to your strengths.”
“I appreciate your candor.”
“No you don’t.” She smiled. “But you and I… almost slept together and almost died together. So the least we can do is be honest with each other.”
Or at least, almost honest. And should he remind Ms. Taylor that hercommitment to honesty was a recent development? Maybe not. They’d both been guilty of BSing each other in Venezuela. Now they were reunited, and they had a homicide to solve. Together.
Brodie said, “I’m sure General Hackett wanted to send a team that would play nice with the Germans and take a back seat on this case. But the colonel had a different idea and so do I.”
“Did Dombroski say that?”
“Not in so many words.” He added, “One of our brothers is dead. We have a personal interest in seeing this case done right.”
She asked, “When you reviewed the briefing materials, did you get the Berlin Police report translated?”
“No, but I bet you did.”
“I translated what I could myself. And there appears to be a detail missing from the embassy report. About how the body was found.” She paused. “Vance’s left eye was missing.”
“Missing?”
“It was… scooped out.”
Brodie didn’t respond.
“Based on the lack of any signs of struggle, we can assume this mutilation was postmortem.”
“That’s a fair assumption.” And hopefully an accurate one for the sake of poor Harry Vance.
“And I’ve been thinking,” said Taylor, “why leave that information out of the legat report? Maybe you don’t tell the press, but for an internal embassy report…”
“Either the embassy omitted it, or the German Feds—the BKA who took over from the Berlin Police—decided to omit it. Why? Because the more people who know this detail, and the sooner they know it, the more likely it will be disseminated.”
“Okay… and…?”
“An American military officer has been murdered in what many people will conclude was an act of Islamic terrorism. And whether or not that’s true, everyone from ISIS to the brigade of armchair jihadis living in their parents’ basements will want to take credit.”
