Brodie nodded. But sometimes they did. Because they dashed off as soon as they pulled the trigger. This killer, however, walked into the park to finish his business. But first he retrieved the shell casing, which wouldn’t be easy in the dark. Then he ditched the rifle and the casing—probably with an accomplice—then walked into the park to examine his kill. Like he had all the time in the world. This was a cool customer. A pro.
Brodie asked Soliman, “And there were no eyewitnesses? No one heard anything?”
Soliman replied, “We are still questioning residents.” He added, “It was about three o’clock in the morning.”
Brodie nodded, though not satisfied with the answer.
Soliman checked his watch and said, “I am due back at headquarters.I expect we will have more concrete information for you at tomorrow’s briefing.”
David Kim said, “All we ask for, Captain Soliman, is collegial cooperation and total candor.”
Soliman looked at him. “And all I ask of you in return is an understanding of the sensitive nature of this investigation.” He gestured around them. “This whole neighborhood is holding its breath.”
Taylor asked, “For what?”
He looked at her. “For whatever happens in a neighborhood full of Arabs when a white man is murdered. I will see you tomorrow morning.” He walked off toward his parked police car, leaving the three Americans to speak freely and speculate wildly.
Brodie said, “Total candor notwithstanding, I think they have someone who saw or heard something. Maybe more than one.”
Kim said, “Maybe. Soliman is protective of this neighborhood and the people in it, and I get that.” He added, “Also, he’s protective of his turf.”
“Right,” said Brodie. “It can’t be easy being an Arab Muslim Berlin cop.”
Kim replied, “Divided loyalties are never easy.”
Taylor said, “I’m sure he’s a cop first.”
No one responded.
Brodie looked into the park. The iron fence was about eight feet tall, with wide openings between the bars. This location offered a clear and unobstructed view of the spot where Vance had been standing. In fact, Harry Vance would have made a good target standing almost anywhere in this park. What was he thinking?
Brodie peered through a gap between the bars and tried to put himself in the shoes of the killer.
This was, obviously, not a crime of opportunity. The killer had chosen a .22-caliber rifle because he knew he would be firing in a densely populated neighborhood and needed a weapon that could kill from a distance without making too much noise. But the low-velocity bullets were also not a sure bet for a lethal shot. Sixty meters was fairly close, especially for a rifle, but still no guarantee that the bullet would penetrate the cranium, especially if the shooter did not hit his target precisely in the temple. Brodie looked around and noticed there was no streetlight on the corner, nor any lightswithin the park near Vance’s position. So maybe the killer had used a night scope.
Taylor said, “This was a skilled marksman. Maybe a hired gun.”
“Or a trained terrorist,” said Kim. “Hezbollah has plenty of decent snipers.”
David Kim was really leaning into the Hezbollah thing. And he might be right, but Brodie was biased against the first explanation offered. Why should things be so easy? Or simple?
Taylor was looking into the park. “The shooter took a very unnecessary risk. The murder was committed late at night, but this is a late-night town, and he could have been spotted. But he got away with the shot, and then instead of leaving the scene he went down into the park. It was worth the risk to nab the cell phone, which would take all of two seconds and might contain incriminating information, but extracting the eye would take longer.”
Brodie said, “It was just as important to the killer as the cell phone. As a message. Or proof of responsibility. Or both.” He added, “We also don’t know if the sniper was the same person who took the phone and eye. Could have been an accomplice in the park.”
Kim said, “We need to know what cases Vance was working. Who was looking to send a message? And who is the message for?”
Brodie nodded. “Aside from the political and international intrigue aspects of this case, we need to work it as a standard homicide.”
Taylor agreed, but FBI Agent David Kim looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at the two cops.
Brodie turned and scanned the row of apartment buildings across the road from the park. “We need to look for possible witnesses.”
“Good luck in this neighborhood,” said Kim.
But as if on cue, an old woman in a long coat and red hijab appeared, pushing a shopping cart full of groceries toward the front door of an apartment building. She stopped at the base of the stoop.
Brodie crossed the street and smiled at her. “Guten Morgen.”
