Andre shook his head. “That has to come from the issuing organization. The Vienna office.”
They stared at each other again. Something wasn’t right.
“What’s wrong, Andre?”
The Interpol officer turned the computer back toward him and clicked a couple of times before showing Jake the screen again. It was a video of the shooting in Luxembourg. Looked like it came from a closed circuit camera that must have been directed toward the bank. It showed Jake walking across the street, the shoot out, and then Jake casually walking down the sidewalk. The camera hadn’t caught him getting into Alexandra’s car.
“It’s number three on the internet,” Andre said. “Will probably be number one by morning.”
“I told you people were trying to kill me,” Jake explained. “I was just walking across the street and they opened fire.”
Andre’s head nodded agreement. “I understand. Now the Luxembourg Police Grand-Ducale have a problem with you carrying a concealed weapon and shooting up their city. It’s bad for tourism.”
“Would they rather be investigating my murder right now?”
“Good point.”
Alexandra had been sitting back watching both of them talk, obviously wanting to stay out of the action. Jake didn’t want to give Andre any idea that they’d been together intimately, it being so soon after Anna’s murder. He also didn’t want to involve her any more with what he would have to do soon to take this case forward. Yet, he’d appreciated her company and her insight every step of the way. Maybe it was time to come clean with Andre also.
“I know what you’re thinking, Jake,” Andre said.
“Really.”
“You’re wondering if I know.” The Frenchman smiled.
“Know what?” He was feeling him out but Jake wasn’t buying it. The guy was a chess master, and he shifted people around like it was always his move.
“The million Euros. Dead. Not alive.”
“If you know that, then why do I still have a Red Notice out on me? You know damn well I’m just trying to stay alive.”
“I hope you’re doing more than that,” Andre said. “Trying to find out who killed Anna.”
Jake sucked down the rest of his wine and set the empty glass on the table in front of him. “The two are connected. Are you going to help me? What does Interpol know about this case?”
Andre smiled and poured Jake more wine. “We’ll move on to a Pinot Noir next.” Hesitating, as if searching for the right words, he continued, “We found the two men dead just across the French border south of Luxembourg City, and later someone mysteriously called in the location of another man…gently crucified in a vineyard. They were all Persians, based on the car. They had no identification on them, though. I would bet my life that the two died from a bullet from the gun under your left arm.”
“Again, self defense. They were the same men who’d shot at me in Luxembourg.”
“Yes, I know. The Police Grand-Ducale in Luxembourg are taking credit for your work, giving some support to the French authorities. You see, all is well in the Grand Duchy. Come back and spend your money. Did you get any information from the man taped to the vines?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Jake said. “They’re Iranians, but I think it’s more likely they’re not Persians. They’re Kurds.”
“The man told you that?”
“He didn’t need to. I understand a few Kurdish phrases from my work there. He questioned not only the veracity of my parents, but indicated I should try to satisfy myself with extreme prejudice. I assured him that wasn’t possible. Many have tried.”
“I’ll bet. What did he tell you?” Andre pressed.
“Will you help me?”
The Interpol man hesitated. “Of course.”
Jake told Andre everything the man had told him, including the preposterous notion that somehow Gunter Schecht had risen from the dead and placed a price on Jake’s head.
“Now you know why I need your help,” Jake said to Andre.
“How can I help?”
Jake glanced sideways at Alexandra, who pulled Jake’s laptop from his backpack and handed it to him.
“Just a little internet access,” Jake said.
Andre leaned back in his comfortable sofa like a cowboy easing back on his saddle. “You could’ve gone to a cybercafe to do that.” Then his brain contemplated Jake like a chess master does to a worthy opponent. “You want an untraceable secure access to my Interpol database.”
Jake nodded.
“Why don’t you just access her German Intel database?”
Jake didn’t budge, but he saw Alexandra shift in her chair slightly.
“How did I know?” Andre asked. “First of all, she’s carrying a pistol on her right hip. Second, you wouldn’t let her know what you’re doing if you didn’t trust her. And last of all, you wouldn’t trust her unless she was either CIA, BND or Austrian Intel. Given her accent, I’d say she was Bavarian. Which means BND.” He hesitated to let his revelations set in. “Besides, we got a Blue Notice on one Alexandra Schecht this morning. You need to update your photo. You are much more beautiful in person. Any relation to Gunter Schecht?”
Alexandra’s jaw tightened but she said nothing.
“I think you know that also,” Jake said. “Why’d they issue a Blue Notice on her? She’s done nothing.”
“A Blue Notice simply asks local law enforcement to acquire additional information about a person’s possible illegal activities,” Andre instructed. “She was with you when you shot those men this morning. Her car was caught on another video camera picking you up. You understand.”
Yeah, Jake understood. He had gotten Alexandra in way too far and he wasn’t pleased with himself. “Which is why we can’t get onto her BND account. Can you give us access?”
Subdued, Andre nodded his head in agreement.
Jake got onto his computer and used Andre’s access to the Interpol database. He first did a series of requests for information on those who he’d shot that morning, including the man he’d interrogated. He quickly saved that data to his laptop. Then he searched a few more areas of interest. While he was on the computer, he noticed Andre had slipped down the sofa, ending directly across from Alexandra. The two of them were speaking German and then switched to French. Laughing. Drinking wine. A half hour later and Jake had downloaded more data than he could go over in a week. But he didn’t have a week. He’d used Anna’s access to Interpol many times, with and without her permission, so he knew his way around. He also knew how to have their computer analyze the data in various strings. While that was going on in the background, Jake quickly checked on a few names that had come up. Names that he’d recognized from his past. His computer beeped when the Interpol analysis was complete. But Jake’s brain had reached the same notion about thirty seconds before the computer. All of the dead men, from those who killed Anna to the man he’d killed at his apartment in Innsbruck, to the men who’d come for him in St. Johann, and to the Iranian Kurds who’d tried to kill him that morning — it had all been a grand ruse to make him believe the hit had been ordered by someone from a former case. Well, the computer didn’t actually say that. The program simply showed no relationship among all the men, and no likely coordinated attempt. Someone wanted Jake to look into the Kurds as a source, or perhaps the Serbs, or even Gunter Schecht, who was dead. By doing so, the real source of the hit, the one pulling the strings, was someone as far from those sources as possible. Sleight of hand. Have him look one way while the knife sticks him in the back. Or, more likely, the bullet. But that was also disturbing, because only certain people knew about these cases in their totality. And that list wasn’t as long as one would guess. A list that Jake would have to deal with alone. He should’ve come to this conclusion a long time ago. Perhaps he would have if his mind wasn’t thinking about the death of Anna, and his body wasn’t constantly being attacked. That was the play. Much like Andre and his chess. You make a player think you’re working your way in to put the opponent in check or mate, they let down their guard, and you steal their queen. You keep picking away like that until they have no more defenses left to protect their king. Time to take a few more pieces. Other than pawns. Go on offense, Jake.