She said, “Your new friend sounds like he’s in a Cold War time warp.”
“That, or history is repeating itself.” He added, “Keep an open mind.”
They walked downstairs and exited onto the northern section of Alexanderplatz, a large square surrounded by modern buildings containing shops, cafés, and a department store. The massive TV tower loomed behind the train station they’d just left. A chill wind blew across the open Platz and pedestrians bundled in winter coats hurriedly crisscrossed the square.
Taylor pointed to a wide blue-glass tower at the far end. “There’s the Radisson.”
As they walked toward the hotel Brodie observed the blank modern buildings around them. Like a lot of places in Berlin, this spot was steeped in a vanished history. Brodie recalled from his long-ago guided tour of the city that Alexanderplatz was named after one of the Russian czars tocommemorate a state visit, back when this square must have been ringed with ornate imperial buildings. Most of the current buildings looked like they’d been constructed in the last thirty years, meaning that a lot of the junk the Commies had built after clearing away the rubble of the destroyed city had itself been swept away by developers after the fall of the Wall. Berlin, it seemed, was as defined by its absences as by what you could see.
They reached the hotel and entered the lobby, which was modern and clean but not high-end, the kind of place you could submit to the Army travel office for reimbursement without raising an eyebrow.
Jenkins had given Taylor his room number over the phone, so they headed directly to the elevator and took it up to the fifth floor, then walked down a long carpeted corridor until they found his room and knocked.
A voice asked through the door, “Who’s there?”
Brodie replied, “Scott Brodie and Maggie Taylor.”
The door opened and a man quickly stepped aside and gestured them in without a word. They walked into the small room and he shut the door behind them and bolted it.
Brodie looked at Mark Jenkins. He was in his late forties, of average height, with an olive complexion and black wavy hair. He had large dark eyes that darted between the two of them.
He shook hands with Taylor and then Brodie, who said, “We’re sorry about Harry.”
“Yeah. Me too. Everyone at Fifth MP is sorry.” Jenkins gestured at a few chairs around a small circular table in the corner of the room. “Hungry? They’ve got room service. It’s okay.”
“No thank you,” said Brodie. He noticed Jenkins’ Beretta in a holster on the nightstand, which triggered trigger-envy.
Jenkins ran his hand through his hair as he looked around the room searching for something. He grabbed a bottle of clear liquid from the top of the dresser along with three plastic cups and set the cups on the table. He held up the bottle. “Some schnapps that Harry brought me from one of his trips here. High-quality but a little abrasive. Like the man himself.”
He sat down and poured a triple shot in each cup, which was a little more alcohol than Brodie was used to drinking before noon. But he wasn’t about to deny the man a toast to his fallen colleague.
Jenkins lifted his cup. “To Harry Vance. A real pro, a true friend, and a damned good man.”
They tapped their cups together and downed the schnapps.
It was harsh stuff, and for Brodie it brought back a few bad college memories. For Taylor, it was probably a step down from Kentucky moonshine.
Jenkins set his empty cup down on the table and said, “I checked out both of you. I wanted to know who they put in charge of finding Harry’s killer.”
“The Germans are in charge,” said Brodie.
“Officially,” said Jenkins.
Brodie nodded.
Jenkins continued, “But you’re not going to leave the murder of an American soldier in the hands of a foreign country.”
Taylor replied, “We’ll do what has to be done.”
Jenkins nodded. “I know you will.” He looked at both of them. “You two were in Venezuela. Kyle Mercer.”
Brodie replied, “We can neither confirm nor deny.”
Jenkins smiled. “Well, everyone knows.” He added, “You two are more famous in the Fifth MP Battalion than you might know.”
Neither Brodie nor Taylor responded.
Jenkins continued, “For the record, I do not agree with CID’s decision to have the Fifth MP stand down in this investigation.”
