Chapter 7

Tempelhof Airport - Berlin

Monika stood in the arrivals lounge as passengers began exiting the Air France flight from Zurich. Wave after wave of tourists, businessmen, and grandparents fanned out to be met by tour guides, colleagues, and eager family members. But no Gerhard. The flight crew emerged a few moments later and the cleaning staff pushed their carts down the jetway to began turnover of the plane.

This was puzzling. Monika opened her phone to punch in Gerhard's number. She sensed someone behind her. Before she could turn, a gun barrel was thrust into her side and a man dropped an arm around her shoulders.

His lips brushed the side of her neck. "Don't make a sound," he whispered. "You know I'll use this."

Monika willed herself to not panic. This was merely a glitch. She felt certain she could turn the situation to her advantage. "What do you want?"

The man tightened his grip and hustled her toward a hallway that said "Staff Only." At the end was a door marked "Supplies." He knew it was open because he'd left it so on his earlier reconnaissance. He kicked open the door and shoved Monika in. She stumbled over a pallet of toilet tissue, landing hard on her right shoulder. She winced in pain and grabbed her shoulder. It was dislocated.

"Wh . . . what do you want?" she asked again. Her face contorted in pain. The side of her face burned from contact with the rough concrete floor and blood was oozing from a scalp laceration.

The man laughed softly and pointed the silenced gun at her. "Did you think you could get rid of me so easily? After all, I'm the one with all the account numbers."

Think, Monika! It couldn't end like this. She'd worked too hard and was so close to having everything. Her leather bag had flown off her shoulder and landed behind some crates. She had no weapon. Tears sometimes worked on men, but she knew it would not phase this one. She would have to bargain.

Still holding her shoulder, she eased into a sitting position. "We'll eliminate Gerhard. He's a greedy bastard. It will just be the two of us. We can go anywhere, do anything."

The man laughed again. "Gerhard. He's already been eliminated. Now it's your turn. I wanted to see the look of terror on your perfect face before I pulled the trigger." He stepped closer.

"Jeff, wait!" Monika held up her left hand. "I have another account. Here in Berlin. Gerhard knew nothing about it. It was my insurance policy if anything went wrong. It's over half a million Euros. You can have all of it."

"Don't worry. I already have."

Monika paled. He could be bluffing. "Bitte, Jeff. It doesn't have to be like this," she pleaded.

"Berliner Sparkasse, the branch on Unter den Linden, across from the park." He recited the account number with a smug look on his face.

A fear unlike anything Monika had ever known gripped her. Another fake passport lay in a safe deposit box at the bank, but it was of no benefit to her now. She tried to take a deep breath, but pain racked her chest. Broken ribs, most likely.

"That's right, Monika. You should never screw a banker. At least where money is concerned." He fired one shot and Monika crumpled to the floor. He stuck the gun in the back waistband of his pants.

Jeff lifted her body and heaved it over into a trash dumpster that stood against the wall. He retrieved her purse from behind the crate of spray cleaners and searched it. Wallet, airline ticket, cell phone, lipstick, paperback novel. The usual stuff. He pocketed the cash and wiped the bag with a handerchief. His fingers ran across a bulge in the lining. He quickly ripped it out and discovered the fake passports. He stuffed the one in the name of Gary Franklin into his pocket. Good old Gerhard would not be needing this now.

He flung the purse into the dumpster. Then he shuffled some trash around to cover both the body and purse. Unfortunately, the bitch had bled a little on the floor. He grabbed a bottle of spray cleaner and dabbed at the spot with his handerchief.

Satisfied with his cleanup, he listened at the door. No sounds came from the hallway. He eased the door open and crossed to the janitor's bathroom opposite. He flushed the handerchief down the toilet.

**
Natalie finished talking to the CSI agents, but she knew they didn't believe her. Oh, they didn't come right out and say so, but their grim expressions and pointed looks gave them away. She returned to her car and sat there for a moment. Paolo had said to go home and he would be in touch. She didn't like the sound of that. Something was up.

Her cell phone rang. It was Jeff's boss from Dade Savings and Loan.

"Mrs. Jernigan, could you come in to the bank this morning?"

"I guess so. What's going on?"

"I'd rather not say on the phone. However, it is urgent."