“Unless itwasbusiness,” said Taylor.
Nasir shot her a look. “Wild speculation can be dangerous for everyone.”
Brodie suddenly saw Rafeeq Nasir in a different light—not as a street thug, or a mobster, but as a merchant of information in a competitive market whose organization had failed him.
Long before the Gestapo or the Stasi, crime families had always had their own primitive but effective versions of intelligence outfits. Eyes on the street. Ears to the ground. A network of informants, like Hasan, who had gone out of his way to follow Brodie for hours, probably without even being ordered to do so. Hasan just knew what was expected of him. There had been a murder in Rafeeq Nasir’s hood, and the boss had no clue who had done it, or why. That had to be fixed.
Brodie said, “You will be hearing from the German authorities.”
“I will look forward to it, as always.” Nasir pulled the two chairs awayfrom the office door and opened it, then gestured for Brodie and Taylor to exit.
Brodie said, “We’re not leaving yet. But you and your men are.”
Nasir nodded and said, “As you wish.” He led Hasan out of the office, then turned back to them and said, “May you deliver justice for your colleague. Swiftly.” He walked out and shut the door behind him.
CHAPTER 18
Brodie and Taylor sat at the bar in Proletariat. They both needed a shot of caffeine, and Brodie asked the barmaid, “Do you have coffee?”
“Nein.”
Brodie held up two fingers. “Good. We’ll take two of the nine.”
“Bitte?”
Taylor said to the barmaid, “Two Cokes, bitte.”
She nodded and moved off.
Brodie said to Taylor, “She probably thinks we converted to Islam in the manager’s office.” He suggested, “Order a brandy.”
“Are you done?”
“I think so.”
The barmaid put the Cokes in front of them. “No charge.”
“Thank you,” said Taylor. She took out her phone and said to Brodie, “I’ll get us an Uber.”
He reminded her, “I make the tactical decisions, Ms. Taylor. We’ll walk. I want to find a kebab joint.”
“You can walk. I’m riding back to the hotel.”
“You’re insubordinate.”
“I learned from the best.” She added, “I can’t believe you missed the opportunity to make a joke about using ‘Uber’ in Germany.”
“Low-hanging fruit.”
“When has that stopped you?”
The only military women who spoke to him like this were the ones he’d slept with. Maybe this was foreplay.
They sipped their Cokes for a minute, then Taylor’s phone dinged. Shestood and zipped her coat. “Car’s here.” She said to the barmaid, “Gute Nacht.”
The barmaid looked at them and said, “Those men… you need to be careful.”
“Thank you,” said Taylor.
