“I understand,” said Brodie. “But we have our orders.”
Jenkins nodded. “Me too. Mine are to get out of Berlin.”
“Will you?” asked Taylor.
“Yes.” He looked at her. “But only because I believe this investigation is in good hands.”
“We appreciate your confidence,” said Taylor. She added, “Tell us about being followed.”
Jenkins poured himself another. “Yesterday evening, after being interviewed at BKA headquarters by Chief Inspector Schröder. When I left the interview I was a little worked up and decided to walk back to the hotel. A good hour walk. There were two guys. One of them came down from the nearby S-Bahn platform, like he was expecting me to take the train and then saw I was walking. The other guy was on a park bench.”
Taylor asked, “Did you get a good look at them?”
He shook his head. “Long black coats, winter caps—I set out at six and it was already dark. One guy stayed on the other side of the street, the other maybe thirty feet behind me. It was either the worst tail job I’ve ever seen, or they were trying to intimidate me. I tried to shake them a few times just for fun, but they stuck like glue until I got back here. And then this morning, I went out for a walk after breakfast, and there’s this guy standing outside the hotel using his phone, and I’m watching him. I swear the asshole is taking pictures of me. Just the way he’s holding the phone, the angle of it. Too far away to make him out, but same long black coat and cap. And after I start walking across the square in his direction, the guy walks away. Quickly. And then he stops at the fountain in the middle of Alexanderplatz and makes a phone call, and while he’s on the phone I see him glancing my way. This guy was not subtle. So I keep walking toward him, and he scoots off and disappears into the underground U-Bahn station. I followed but I lost him.”
Brodie asked, “White guy? Arab?”
Jenkins shrugged. “Between the hat, the sunglasses, and the distance I couldn’t tell. Same with the guys last night.”
Brodie nodded. If these guys really were amateurs, Jenkins could have shaken them, and probably wouldn’t have lost the guy in the underground. They sounded like pros, and this sounded like intimidation. “Did you report this to the police or the BKA?”
“I left a message for Chief Inspector Schröder this morning.”
Taylor said, “The obvious conclusion is you were being harassed because of your relationship to the victim. Maybe the perpetrators assumed you were working the homicide.” She added, “But how did they know you were in Berlin? Or who you were? Or where you were?”
Jenkins replied, “I don’t know. That’s the troubling part.” He looked at his guests. “When the bad guys have good Intel, that’s not good.”
Brodie nodded. Assuming Mark Jenkins saw what he said he saw, then whoever killed Harry Vance was just the tip of a much larger and smarter group who had access to inside information.
Taylor, thinking along the same lines, said, “This all suggests organized crime of some sort. Or maybe a terror network. Do you have any information about what Harry was doing here in Berlin?”
Jenkins looked at her. “I don’t have information. What I do have is informed speculation.” He thought for a moment, then added, “I assumed Harry was having an affair with someone here. His trips to Berlin started a few months before he and Julie separated.”
Taylor asked, “He never spoke to you about these trips?”
“No. Harry was a very private person. I didn’t even know his marriage was on the rocks until he moved out. And I used to go to their house for dinner at least once a week.” He smiled as he added, “I’m a confirmed bachelor, and I think Julie thought I needed a home-cooked meal every once in a while.”
Taylor asked, “Have you spoken with Julie since she was notified of her husband’s death?”
He nodded. “She’s devastated. She spoke with the police, but as far as I know she doesn’t have any more of a clue than I do about what Harry was up to in Berlin. She just assumed it was work-related.”
Brodie said, “Harry must have understood that other assumptions would be made by his colleagues about his trips here.”
“I got the impression that he understood that I thought something was going on, and he was happy to leave it there.” Jenkins looked at his empty schnapps cup like he was thinking about another refill. “He has—had—two kids. Great kids. Fifteen and seventeen.” He made eye contact with Brodie. “He was a good father. A good man.”
Brodie nodded.
“But… these trips. They started getting more frequent.”
Brodie asked, “How often?”
“I don’t know. Maybe every few weeks for a few days at a time. Unless we were working a big case. He didn’t let it get in the way of his work. But the thing is, once he and Julie separated and he moved out, he was supposed to get the kids a couple nights a week, work permitting. And he started missing his nights so he could come to Berlin. And yeah, from the outside it’s easy to imagine a guy in an unhappy marriage getting caught up with a new fling, letting that get in the way of being around for his kids. That’s a common story. But Harry wasn’t a common guy.”
Brodie said, “I had the pleasure of knowing him many years ago. He was one of my instructors in Special Agent training. Oh-five.”
Jenkins smiled. “Can’t imagine Harry as a teacher.”
“He was impressive,” said Brodie. “Wasn’t overly enamored with the sound of his own voice like a lot of them, and he got to the point. Also, unlike a lot of the male instructors, Harry didn’t hit on his female students.” Brodie glanced at Taylor, who’d had her fling with her instructor, CIA Officer Trent Chilcott. But Taylor wasn’t taking the bait. He continued, “Hard to believe that a straight arrow like Harry Vance was following his dick to Berlin to see a woman.”
