I Was Tailed by a Private Investigator

vocativ.com Constantly being watched in secret can be almost paralyzing—even for a longtime investigative journalist. So who from my past was paying this P.I. to follow me? “This is awkward for me,” said the man in the driver seat of the black BMW. “It really is.” At a glance, he looked like a middle-aged version of Fonzi from Happy Days. He wore a brown leather bomber jacket with a plush fur collar and sported a 1950s pompadour. Jonathan Cate (Aram Roston/Vocativ) His outfit, however, wasn’t the only awkward part. For at least two days, the man, Jonathan Cate, 46, had been trying to surreptitiously follow me in his car around Washington, D.C. A private investigator, Cate was working for a Virginia-based firm called Interprobe. Now the police had made him show his ID, I was at his car window, and he was admitting he’d been hired to tail me. Cate’s surveillance left me rattled. Constantly being watched in secret can be almost paralyzing for a journalist. Eventually, however, I turned the tables on him. Few things are worse for a private investigator than getting made. “This is a really bad day,” he said, ruefully shaking his head. “I’m sorry about that,” I said, as I stood near his car. I was only half serious. I don’t know exactly when Cate started tailing me, but I first noticed his car early Tuesday morning last week. A snowstorm was coming, and around 8:30 a.m. I rushed out of my house. I was driving my beat-up Corolla toward the hardware store when I noticed a black BMW behind me. I parked across the street, and when the Beamer parked three cars back, no one got out. It was strange. When I left the hardware store, I saw that the BMW was still parked in the same spot. There was someone inside, though I couldn’t make out what he looked like. Just for kicks, I hid in a doorway and jotted down the car’s Maryland plates: 7AE3651. As I pulled away from the store, the Beamer followed me, as if I was in some sort of Elmore Leonard movie. When I arrived home, I told my wife what happened and put the note with the car’s plate number in a drawer, just so she’d have it. (Aram Roston/Vocativ) I had a story to file around 1 p.m., so I quickly hopped back in my car and headed to a local Starbucks. The snow was just beginning to come down, and the BMW followed me as I drove north. I parked near the coffee shop, watching over my shoulder as the BMW passed, then made a U-turn. Either the driver thought I was oblivious or he didn’t seem to mind if I spotted him. Sitting in my car with the engine on, watching this mystery man in the black car, it crossed my mind that I was being paranoid. I called my editor and we went back and forth over who might be tailing me. I’m a national security reporter, and the Justice Department has been cracking down on whistle-blowers. The Obama administration is even threatening James Risen to testify against a source, or face jail time. to read more: vocativ.com