‘It says he drowned in Munich in January 1974.’
‘So it does,’ Tayte said as his eyes found the details. ‘I guess that’s why his death made the German national newspapers.’ He turned his laptop around so they could both see the screen. ‘There’s some more information here about the drowning,’ he added as he read on, quickly confirming that the drowned man was indeed a British Consul-General, working at the British Consulate in Munich at the time of his death.
‘Bloated body found in Eisbach,’ Jean read aloud. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any suspicion of foul play, though.’
‘No,’ Tayte said, ‘although seeing just how close Johnston’s death was to my mother’s and Karl’s visit with Elijah Kaufmann, it still strikes me as highly suspicious. He drowned four months later.’
‘I’m sure Elijah Kaufmann didn’t have anything to do with it,’ Jean said.
‘As am I, but perhaps someone could have gained access to Kauffman’s files—maybe someone else who worked for him.’
‘Or perhaps someone knew your mother and Karl were looking for Strobel and followed them to Johnston’s apartment. Just like they followed us after we left the offices of the FWK yesterday. They must also have visited other people during the time before Johnston’s death. Maybe they went to the FWK, too.’
‘Maybe,’ Tayte said, wondering now why his mother and Karl had given Kaufmann the address of the British Consul-General, and how his mother wound up in Mexico the following year, perhaps on the run from Strobel because she and Karl had come too close to finding him. And where was Tayte’s father when his mother gave him away? The sister at the mission had told him his mother had been alone.
‘How did my mother and Karl know this man, Johnston?’ Tayte asked, thinking aloud.
‘He could have been a friend, or family perhaps?’
The idea that Geoffrey Johnston might have been family excited Tayte. If he was, then being British Tayte thought it more likely that the connection would be on his mother’s side, and he knew that with some digging he should be able to find that connection somewhere in the UK birth, marriage, and death indexes. But it was just one of many possibilities that for now Tayte put to the back of his mind for investigation at a later date. Right now he wanted to stay on track. He wanted to know why his mother had abandoned him, and more and more he was beginning to feel that the answer was inextricably linked to Volker Strobel.
He was about to ask Jean if she wanted another coffee to go with their next line of research, but when he looked up from his laptop screen, he saw that Jean looked terrified. She was staring past him, out of the window, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide open. Tayte craned his neck around, following her gaze, and for the first time he saw the man they had come to know of as Max Fleischer. The Death’s Head Unit tattoos on his neck were unmistakable. Fleischer was standing just outside the window, no more than three feet away, with only the glass between them. He wore a plain white T-shirt, and now that he had Tayte’s and Jean’s attention, he lifted it up to reveal a handgun tucked into the top of his black jeans. He began to shake his head slowly from side to side, no expression on his face. He didn’t need one to convey the message he was sending them. The gun said it all.
Tayte jumped to his feet and Jean shot a hand out to stop him. ‘No, JT! He’ll kill you.’
‘If these people wanted us dead already, I’m sure they’d have found an opportunity by now.’ Tayte continued to rise. ‘And I’m sure he’s not dumb enough to shoot us in a busy coffee shop.’
He made for the door, thinking about what this man had done to Jean the day before and how he’d threatened to rape her. It gave him both the strength and the courage to confront him, but when he got outside, Fleischer was gone.
Tayte was shaking as he returned to the table and sat down. ‘How do you suppose he found us again? Surely he’s not been following us since we left the hotel this morning.’
Jean scoffed. ‘He might well have been, or maybe he was watching the gallery and knows we went to see Rudi Langner. He obviously knows we’re still asking questions, which isn’t good.’
‘It’s not good at all,’ Tayte said, wondering whether any of Fleischer’s associates had followed them into the coffee shop, and had perhaps sent a text message to him. He looked around. A few people were already staring back at him, no doubt wondering what all the fuss was about, but the place was mostly filled with couples enjoying their coffee. Just the same, Tayte didn’t want to stick around.
He closed his laptop. ‘Come on,’ he said, collecting his briefcase from the floor as he rose.