‘You what?’
‘Sorry, ‘hiding place’. I thought they’d come to take me away. Told him no, I’d already stolen the lorry and gone AWOL. It got a bit heated. Ludwig grabbed me by the throat. I couldn’t breathe. Thought I was a goner. Luckily Wolfgang told him to let me go. Then I noticed some poor bugger, trussed up in the fish hold. I was just asking about him when we saw your lot turn up.’
Parker turned to his companion and snorted. ‘That was Russell’s abortive attempt to solve the case.’ Barrow beamed at him. Parker smiled at the constable and turned back to the soldier. ‘So what occurred then?’
‘Can’t remember exactly. It all happened so quick. I think Wolfgang started the engine and moved the boat away from the shore. Spratt chucked himself overboard, Wolfgang said: ‘Scheisse!’ then, ‘lass ihn’ - ‘leave him’. He took the boat round in a big arc. Ludwig tied a short plank over the bow. When we got near the beach – in sight of the rozzers – he forced the poor sod who’d been in the fish hold to walk the plank. He soon fell in the water and Wolfgang roared off.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘Nowhere really.’
‘What do you mean, nowhere?’ the DI growled.
‘Just out to sea. Out of sight of land. It were ’orrible. I’m not a good sailor at the best of times. Wolfgang cut the engine. We just sat there, bobbing up and down.’ He shuddered at the thought of it. ‘I was sick as a dog. Couldn’t keep anything down. Wolfgang was all right. Been on boats most of his life. Ludwig looked a bit green but he didn’t throw up. I could hear them talking, quiet like, but couldn’t catch what they were saying. Then Wolfgang started the engine and we headed back.’
‘What, to Shell Bay?’
‘No. Although I didn’t know at first. They were very secretive. Told me nothing. Then as we approached the shore I recognised where we were.’
‘Where was it?’
‘Nottery Quay. I asked what was happening. Wolfgang shut me up. He drove the boat right up to the stone steps. Ludwig tucked a knife in his waistband and jumped ashore. Wolfgang said he’d be back between four and five. Then we turned and headed out again.’
-0-
Russell and Judd returned from lunch and resumed their seats in the office at the Z-commission. The American riffled through the papers on the desk. He pulled out a sheet and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. ‘I wonder if the key to the whole riddle lies with Hauptsturmführer Pfeffer?’
Russell was relaxed in Judd’s company. He felt he had an ally; someone who was in tune with his ideas. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘We-ell. He was the most senior of the four, he’s the only one left alive and he hid himself the farthest away.’
‘But why rule out the others? Bausewein, Bockelmann and Krull. Shouldn’t we be finding out more about them?’
‘Hey! I’m not ruling them out! The trouble is, all we know about them is here.’ He tapped the file in front of him. ‘I’m sure, with a bit of digging, we could probably turn up more info. But … it would take some time. And, my suspicion is, we don’t have much of that, do we?’
‘I suppose not. If we don’t get to the bottom of what this is all about pretty soon, we could have another death on our hands.’
‘True.’ Judd leant back, mirroring Russell’s pose. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then he spoke. ‘Let’s look at this from another direction.’
‘O - kay,’ Russell said slowly. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I was wondering, what’s happening in the police station back in the UK?’
Russell barked out a laugh. ‘What? With Bonnie and Clyde in charge!’
‘Who?’ Judd joined in the laughter.
‘Detective Inspector Parker and Detective Constable Barrow. Don’t you know?’
‘What?’ Judd was still grinning.
‘Those are the surnames of the notorious couple who, supposedly, killed nine police officers as well as several civilians during the Great Depression in the 30s.’
‘Sure, I know about them; I was just amused that the names of two upstanding members of the British constabulary would be associated with such so-called legends.’
Chortling, Russell replied: ‘I’d hardly call them upstanding. In fact I’m surprised they’re standing at all. I’d have thought they should have been pensioned off years ago.’
‘Anyway, joking aside,’ Judd said eventually, ‘let’s get back to my original question: What’s happening back in the UK?’
Russell sat up in his chair, put his hands flat on the edge of the desk and spoke earnestly. ‘Well, with any luck, my constable, Weeks, might have some influence on proceedings. But even without that, I hope Parker and Barrow will at least follow procedure and may just get a result. I’m hoping they’ll have recaptured Ludwig, as I told Weeks where they might find him. Though I doubt, if they do, that he’ll give much away. I’d pin my hopes on Rankin.’
‘The squaddie?’
‘The same. I know that he was in Germany before the war and met them then, so I’m surmising that he met them again after ’45, but as to the circumstances, who knows?’
‘If your constable is working with, er, Bonnie and Clyde, maybe he’d know. Why don’t you give him a call?’
‘What, ring him from here?’
Judd chuckled. ‘It’s not so difficult. Give me the number and I’ll see if I can get through.’ Russell found it and turned his notebook so the American could read it. He picked up the phone and after a moment said: ‘Kannst Du mir eine Nummer in England anrufen, Karena?’
There was a pause. He smiled. ‘Schön’Dank, das ist lieb von Dir. Die Nummer lautet..’ and he recited the number the Englishman had shown him. Judd put the receiver down and looked up. ‘Karena is going to try the number then come back when she gets through.’
After a few minutes the phone rang and he picked up the handset. ‘Ja? Danke Karena.’ He passed it over to Russell who held it to his ear.
There was some static on the line, a few crackles then, ‘Sir? Are you there?’ Weeks’s voice came through loud and clear.
‘Hello, lad. How’s it going?
‘Not bad, Sir. Well, a bit of a mixed bag to be honest.’
‘Okay, I’m all ears.’
‘Well, Bonnie and Clyde, sorry, DI Parker and DC Barrow have been interviewing Rankin all morning.’
‘What have they found out?’
‘Rather a lot, as it happens, so I’ll have to edit it.’
‘That’s fine, lad. Just give me the essence.’
‘As you know he met Wolfgang and Ludwig before the war. Oh, by the way…’ Excitement entered his voice. ‘… Their surname is actually Müller!’
‘Sorry to steal your thunder,’ - Russell winked at Judd - ‘but we already know.’
‘Oh. Ah well. As I was saying, he met them before the war. They did some climbing together in the mountains near Innsbruck.’
‘Can I interrupt you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Have you been sitting in on the interviews?’
‘At first, yes. Then DI Parker told me to get on with something else. Luckily, I have a reasonable relationship with Barrow - us constables stick together - and he’s kept me informed.’
‘I see - please carry on.’
‘Apparently, when they were climbing, Ludwig showed his true colours and almost dumped a couple of blokes over the side of the mountain.’
‘Goodness!’
‘It was only Wolfgang telling him “No!” that stopped him dropping them. Anyway, they didn’t meet up again until after the war when Rankin was running a black market operation.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. He’d started having trouble with a couple of blokes who accused him of trespassing on their patch. Apparently they beat up one of his men as a threat. The Müller brothers turned up, out of the blue, saying they would sort it out. A few days later, two bodies turned up in the river. Apparently the police wer
en’t suspicious - they assumed the men had fallen overboard from a fishing boat. However, Wolfgang made it obvious that he and Ludwig were responsible and said that Rankin “owed them”. That’s why he had to help them when they came here.’
‘That makes sense.’ Russell glanced up to see Judd putting an imaginary mug to his lips. He nodded, and gave him the thumbs up and carried on. ‘Did he see them again in Germany?’ The American went off to get their drinks.
‘No, apparently the experience rattled him so much that he came back to England and joined up.’
‘So when did they meet again?’
‘Wolfgang approached him in a café in Collinghurst and said he’d come to collect his debt.’
‘Ah. So that’s why he became involved with them.’
‘Yes, he felt he had to as the Germans had a hold over him.’
Judd returned with the coffee. Russell nodded his thanks and continued talking to Weeks. ‘Was Rankin involved with the murders?’ He took a sip from his cup.
‘Apparently not. They just got him to drive the lorry, shifting the men about, both alive and dead.’
‘And he definitely didn’t participate in more than that?’
‘So he says.’
Russell sighed, ‘I’m inclined to believe that. You’ve done well, lad.’
‘Sir...’ Weeks spoke hesitantly.
‘Yes?’
‘There’s something else.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I had a visit from your nephew yesterday’
‘Christopher? He’s a good lad. What did he want?’
‘He was camping at Shell Bay with his friend Sandy and they saw something which they thought was important.’ Weeks then went on to outline what they had told him.
‘Oh my, that is significant. I presume you told Parker?’
‘I tried to, but he wasn’t interested. Said he couldn’t take the words of two boys seriously.’
‘But they’re scouts, for heaven’s sake! Plus Christopher’s one of the most observant boys I’ve met.’
‘That’s what I told him, but he wouldn’t have it. He said: “I’ve got three murders to solve so I haven’t got the time, or the inclination, to go on a wild goose chase”.’
‘Idiot.’
‘He did say if I wanted to stake out the beach myself I would “have his blessing”’.
‘Mmm. Not sure that’s a good idea. Could be dangerous,’ Russell suggested cautiously.
‘Do you think I ought not to go then, Sir?’
‘Prudence suggests you shouldn’t go on your own but…’ - he paused for a moment, thinking - ‘…if you don’t, you could miss something vital. I just wish I was there with you.’
‘Me too, Sir – me too.’
‘Is there any chance of you getting anyone to go with you?’
‘I doubt it. Parker made it quite clear that he didn’t think it was worth the bother.’
‘I suppose if you just observed from a distance and stayed clear you would be okay.’
‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say.’
‘Well do it, but just be careful. We don’t want more any nasty incidents.’
‘Thank you, Sir. I’ll watch myself.’
‘And do let me know how you get on – if anything happens. You can get me here for the rest of day.’ He read the number off the telephone, then said goodbye and hung up.
-0-
Parker was pretty sure that he knew the rest of Rankin’s story but he wanted to hear it from the man himself. The soldier looked worn out. The interview had taken all morning and part of the afternoon. After his initial reluctance he had been all too willing to tell his side of the matter. He had probably given them enough to charge Ludwig with the murders but hard evidence was thin on the ground. Parker decided they would have another go at the big German when they had finished with Rankin.
‘So after you dropped Ludwig off at the quay you headed out into the channel again?’
‘Yes. We didn’t go out so far this time. Just a couple of miles. Then we motored slowly, just in sight of land. After an hour or so, he turned the boat and we went back.’
‘How was Wolfgang - on his own?’
‘He was much friendlier. I think that was why he kept the boat moving this time. He knew I wasn’t a good sailor. We talked about the great fun we’d had – when we first met. Time passed quickly. It wasn’t long before we headed back to Nottery. You know the rest.’ With this last, short sentence, Rankin slumped in his seat and wearily dropped his chin on his chest.
Parker looked at his watch. ‘Right, that’s you done for now. We’ll have to think what we’re going to charge you with. Constable?’
‘Yes, Sir?’
‘Take him back to the cells and bring the German up.’ Barrow rose from his seat and beckoned to the soldier. Rankin stood up slowly. He looked thoroughly defeated. Just as they were leaving, the DI spoke again: ‘Oh, and get a couple of constables to go with you when you get Müller. I don’t want him doing a disappearing act again.’
After the three policemen had brought Ludwig in he sat heavily in the chair and stared at Parker, scowling. Parker stared back. ‘Right, now we know you speak English. Are you going to answer our questions?’
The German slowly folded his arms across his broad chest and said: ‘Nein,’ almost in a whisper.
‘Oh, for God’s sake! Get whatisname down here!’ Parker’s frustration was palpable. Barrow looked at his boss, uncomprehendingly. ‘You know, the bloody fingerprint wallah.’
‘Lewis?’
‘Yes, that’s him. Go and find him - pronto!’ Barrow left the room quickly. After a few minutes there was a light tap on the door. Parker: ‘Come!’
The door opened and a constable popped his head round. ‘What is it?’ Parker said irritably.
‘Sorry to bother you, Sir. I’ve got PC Lee here.’
‘So?’
‘He was the policeman who he…’ he nodded towards the German, ‘…socked on the jaw.’
‘So?’
‘We’ll he’s still off sick but he’s come in as he thought you might like him to identify the prisoner.’ He nodded at Ludwig again.
‘I suppose so,’ Parker said grudgingly. The PC’s head disappeared and was replaced by Lee’s bandaged face. Parker stared at him. ‘Well?’ He indicated Ludwig with his thumb.
‘Yes, Sir, that’s him.’ The injured officer’s voice was muffled, his words indistinct.
‘Right, thanks.’ Lee was just about to leave when Barrow appeared, followed by Lewis. ‘About time. Come on, you’ve got some translating to do.’ The DI’s mood was fast deteriorating.
Lewis turned to the constable. ‘Hang on, Lee.’ Then turning back to Parker he said: ‘I’ve got something that you might find useful.’ He held out a small metal object.
‘What is it?’
‘I believe it’s a buckle off a boot.’ Ludwig shifted in his seat.
Parker took the buckle. ‘What boot?’
Lewis looked pointedly at the German, on the other side of the table. ‘His. Isn’t that right Lee?’
Lee just nodded.
‘Thanks, constable, you can go now.’ Turning to Barrow: ‘Have a look at his boots constable.’ Barrow walked round to the other side of the table and crouched down. Ludwig remained immobile.
‘There’s one missing, Sir!’
‘Is this it?’ the DI handed him the buckle.
Barrow stood up and walked round behind the German’s chair and crouched down on the other side. He held it up to the boot. ‘It matches!’ He stood up and gave it back to Parker.
Parker turned to Lewis. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘I didn’t. It was one of the cleaners at the hospital.’
‘Where?’
‘It was wedged in the frame of a hospital bed – the one where the last German was murdered.’
Parker sat up. His day had just improved considerably. ‘Wonderful,’ he said slowly and put the buckle on the t
able. He turned to Lewis. ‘Come and sit here.’ He patted the chair vacated by Barrow. Lewis sat. ‘Ask Müller if he’s going to answer our questions.’
‘Wollen Sie jetzt unsere Fragen beantworten?’ Ludwig continued to stare, in silence.
Barrow, leaning against the wall, spoke. ‘Here we go again.’
The DI turned to him, ‘Thank you, constable.’
‘Why don’t we try a different approach?’ Lewis asked.
Parker sighed. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘Why don’t we ask why they brought the men to England?’
‘Go on then, give it a try.’
‘Warum haben Sie die Männer nach England gebracht?’
Ludwig spoke. ‘Was?’
‘Die Männer. Warum sind sie hier gebracht?’
‘Wir wollten ein Exempel statuieren.’
Parker butted in. ‘What did he say.’
‘He said they wanted to set an example.’
‘An example? Who to?’ He flicked his fingers - as if at an imaginary fly. ‘Ask him.’
Lewis turned to the German. ‘Ein Exempel an wem?’
‘Am dreckigen Naziausschuß!’ he spat.
‘I think I understood that.’ Parker chuckled. ‘Ask him which Nazi scum in particular.’
‘Am dreckigen Naziausschuß?’ asked Lewis.
Ludwig sat, glowering. He remained silent for a while then he growled: ‘Der Ausschuß der meinen Bruder ermordet hat.’
‘What? Something about his brother?’
‘Yes, he says the ones who killed his brother.’
‘Well!’ Parker leant back and breathed out noisily. ‘So that’s what all this is about.
-0-
Weeks left the police station early and drove towards Compass Point. He turned off along the stony track and parked his car outside his cottage, deciding he’d be less conspicuous if he made his way across the dunes on foot. Aggie was delighted as she was able to scamper about, following scents and hoping to surprise rabbits. As he neared the beach, he could see a thin ribbon of smoke curling towards the sky. Making his way towards it, a small tent came into sight, pitched in a hollow. The terrier, running on ahead, had already announced his presence and the boys were making a fuss of her.
‘Hello, Johnny!’ they chorused cheerfully. ‘Great to see you. What are you doing here?’
Blood on the Tide Page 21
