The Perfect Corpse

by Giles Milton

  ‘What d’you want?’ she cried. ‘What have I done? I beg you. Why are you here? For God’s sake stop. Stop.’

  Her hands were shaking. She could feel them shaking. Her face was drained. Where’s Jack? Oh God, where the hell’s Jack?

  Fran and Elsie were crying, shaking uncontrollably. They were too terrified to scream. Hans Dietrich was staring at Tammy without any flicker of emotion. Then, coldly, deliberately, he raised the gun and pointed it directly at her head. She was four feet from the barrel.

  ‘Where is he?’

  He spoke in English, with only the trace of an accent.

  Tammy said nothing.

  He said it again. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Who?’ she said at length, her eyes switching from him to the children and back to him. ‘Where’s who, for Chrissakes?’

  Hans Dietrich allowed his gun to sweep nonchalantly through the car and then let it settle back in line with her head.

  ‘Where's who?’ she repeated, only this time more urgently.

  ‘You know who,’ he said. ‘Ronald Fox.’

  Tammy stared hard.

  ‘Ronald Fox? Grandpa?’

  As she said it, she realised. She saw it all. It was just as Jack had said.

  Her eyes flicked towards Fran and Elsie. Both were still sobbing. Fran had turned his head slightly and was looking half behind him, staring in panic at the gun. Elsie had drawn the blanket tightly around her neck, as if it would save her.

  For Chrissakes, Tammy, think, think, think. Think on your feet. Ronald Fox. He's come for grandpa, just as Jack said. Hans Dietrich is still in the nineteen-forties.

  She could see the gaping black hole of the open barrel. It was staring at her. She looking into his eyes. Metallic and sharp blue, even in the darkness. And filled with malice.

  ‘At the base.’

  She said it without thinking. ‘He's at the base. Ronald Fox. Works night shift.’

  Hans Dietrich shifted position slightly, moved onto his knees. He did it without changing the angle of the gun.

  ‘Drive,’ he said. ‘Drive there. Now.’

  Where’s Jack? Why hasn't Jack come down? Where the fuck’s Jack?

  ‘Drive,’ he said. ‘To the base. Now.’

  She saw his finger on the trigger. He lifted the gun a fraction. But then, as if having second thoughts, he shifted it downwards, towards Elsie.

  ‘No,’ she shrieked.

  ‘Drive.’

  She had no option. She pressed on the automatic control that opened the garage door. Hans Dietrich watched intently, as if he’d never seen such a thing in his life. She glanced in the mirror, noticed his eyes widen as the door began to slide itself open.

  Jack. Come down now. Now. Before it's too late.

  She was thinking fast, thinking on her feet, trying to work out what to do. Even if she got to the base – or rather, the site of the base - what then? He'd quickly see there was no base, no buildings, no grand-daddy. And then what?

  ‘Drive.’

  The garage doors had swung fully open. The paved driveway was lit by the dim glow of the patio lights. It glistened in the night. She slowly shifted the car into drive.

  *

  It took Jack less than a second to realise what was going on. He heard the engine, saw the vehicle emerge from the garage. And then he saw everything. In the rear of the car, visible as a dark shadow, was the figure of Hans Dietrich.

  Holy shit.

  He rushed downstairs to the landing, paused for a second, then tore down the next flight as well. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen table, rushed to the front door. His car was out on the street, facing the right direction. He fired the engine, hit the accelerator. He could see the red glow of her tail-lights already at the far end of the street.

  He saw her indicate left out of Golden Park Drive, then turn right into Avery Street. Where were they heading? He thought through the possible options. ZAKRON? No. Ferris Clark's place? Unlikely.

  He reached for his phone, dialed Perez. No answer. He dialed Tom. No answer either.

  He watched her swing into the right lane of the Bluetown Interchange and then second left onto the highway. Of course. The base. He wants to go to the base.

  He followed them up onto the highway, slowing his speed a fraction in order to put a gap between them. Mustn’t let him see I'm following. The night was dark but the sky overhead was tinselled with stars. The moon hung heavy and dim, like it was on energy-save. They passed Flame-Burgers, Yummies Ice Cream, all shut up in the darkness. And then they passed ZAKRON. It, too, was all dark. Tom had yet to find a replacement for Kingston.

  The base. The base. He was trying to remember the photo they’d found in one of the boxes. That’s been taken close to the Fifty. Right by the highway. Near Jazzy Joe’s. There’s still a dirt track. That’s what Tammy had said.

  The gaps between the buildings widened. They were reaching the far edge of town. He braked slightly in order to widen the distance between himself and Tammy. He could just about make out the figure of Hans Dietrich crouched in the rear.

  He was thinking of Fran and Elsie. Christ, the bastard better not touch them. They passed Jazzy Joe’s. The lights inside were still on, casting a curdled glow into the night. And then there were no more buildings. They had reached the deserted end of town.

  He noticed Tammy slowing down. She was looking for the turning. And it was there, exactly where she’d said it would be, two hundred yards beyond the parking lot for Jazzy Joe’s. She indicated right and then swung off the highway onto a dirt track.

  Jack pulled onto the edge of the road, cut the engine. He’d follow on foot.

  *

  Tammy glanced in the mirror for a second time. It was Jack. She knew the car. It was Jack. She saw him slow, pull onto the side of the highway. Then she saw his lights go out. Jack. Thank God.

  Hans Dietrich sat up sharply as they swung off the main road and bounced slowly along the dirt track.

  ‘Where’s the base?’

  Tammy turned, saw him clutch the gun more tightly.

  ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Need to go on foot from here. They don’t allow cars.’

  She cut the engine, opened the door.

  ‘I’ll take you there,’ she said, trying to keep her voice in control. ‘But on one condition.’

  Hans Dietrich motioned to the children with the gun.

  ‘No conditions.’

  ‘One condition,’ she said sharply. She’d once read a magazine article on what to do if you’re taken hostage. Act like they wouldn’t expect you to act. Surprise them. It either works or gets you shot.

  ‘One condition,’ she repeated. ‘The kids stay here.’

  He swung round the gun to her. No time to argue. He nodded.

  Tammy glanced backwards, just for a second. She saw Jack creeping up the path towards them, his shadow visible against the light of the sand.

  ‘Where’s the base?’ Hans Dietrich was casting around, looking for buildings. ‘Where is it?’

  He said it again. ‘Where’s the base?’

  ‘It’s – ’

  She looked behind her once again. Jack was closing the gap. He was getting nearer. And she was unable to control herself any longer. She let out a piercing scream.

  Jaaaack!

  Hans Dietrich swung around in an instant, turned the gun from her to the figure approaching through the darkness. Jack. He stopped breathless by her side. She clutched at his arm.

  Jack!

  Hans Dietrich’s eyes flicked from Tammy to Jack, then back to Tammy. And then he looked at Jack for a second time.

  ‘Who are you? Who are you?’

  Jack ignored him and turned to Tammy. ‘You okay? The kids?’

  She nodded. Even in the moonlight he could see her shaking.

  ‘Who are you?’ repeated Hans Dietrich. ‘Are you Ronald Fox?’

  Jack shook his head, stared at him hard. The barrel of the revolver was pointing directly at him.

  �
�Put down the gun.’

  ‘Where’s the base? Where’s Ronald Fox?’ he said. And then he asked another question. ‘Where am I?’

  He looked around in search of buildings. ‘Where are we?’

  Jack heard the first note of uncertainty in his voice.

  ‘Put down the gun.’

  ‘What’s happening? Where am I?’

  He took a step towards Jack. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Put down the gun.’

  Hans Dietrich looked at him blankly, his eyes full of clouds. Then he glanced backwards, towards the highway. There was a giant billboard for Yummies Ice Cream. Strawberry, Raspberry, Chocolate, Whipped for your Delight.

  ‘Where am I?’

  Now he was looking downwards, staring at the ground, trying to make sense of it all.

  ‘Where’s the base? The scientists, where are they? Where’s Ronald Fox?’

  He took a step backwards, tripped slightly in the loose sand.

  ‘This is the future,’ said Jack calmly, looking him directly in the eye. ‘The base doesn’t exist any more. The war ended years ago. Churchill’s dead. Stalin’s dead. Ronald Fox is dead. All the scientists are dead. They’ve all been dead for years. The people you’ve killed are the wrong ones. They were innocent people.’

  Hans Dietrich lifted his hands to his eyes and held them there for a moment, as if to shield himself from a bright light.

  ‘You were found in the ice,’ said Jack. ‘You’ve been brought back to life. Look at us. Look at our clothes. Look at the car. Look at the signs, the road, everything. You’re in the future. Otto Streckenbach’s dead. Joachim Ulrich’s dead. They died years ago. The only one still alive is Magda Trautwein. Remember the pretty one in Schloss Hohenstein? She’s still alive, but she’s eighty-nine.’

  Silence.

  ‘Germany lost the war. Hitler’s dead. He shot himself in the head.’

  As Jack spoke, Hans Dietrich lifted the gun slightly, fingered it lightly, then pointed it first at Tammy and then at Jack. It came to rest at the level of his chest. Suddenly he had the eyes of a killer again, coldly, clinically detached.

  Tammy looked at him, pleaded with him.

  ‘No, no. Please.’

  Jack raised his hands, as if in self-defence.

  ‘You’ve woken into the future,’ he said. ‘Look at us. Everything’s different.’

  Hans Dietrich took another step backwards, adjusted the angle of the gun, fumbled with the trigger. He seemed uncertain which one of them to shoot first. And then -

  Bang.

  When it happened, it happened in a flash. The world spun upside down. A shot rang out. Jack reeled backwards. It cracked like a firework, reported off the rocks.

  Boom.

  Jack swung round to Tammy, to see where she’d been hit.

  B-boom.

  But she hadn’t been hit.

  ‘Look – ’ she screamed. ‘Look – ’

  He turned just in time to see Hans Dietrich fall backwards, twisted, slumped downwards into the sand. A single bullet had punctured his forehead.

  They rushed over to where he had fallen. There was a clean hole in the front of his head. Right through the centre. And underneath him, in the cool night sand, was a growing stain of blood.

  Jack walked across to the body, pushed it with his foot. Blood was still spurting from the wound in uneven pulses and soaking away into the sand. But all life was gone. Already, all life was gone.

  Tammy stood unsteady for a second, unsure if what she was seeing was for real. Then she slumped into Jack’s arms.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said. And then: ‘Thank God.’

  *

  They took the body to ZAKRON later that morning and placed it in one of the large refrigeration boxes. Then Tom summoned everyone to a meeting in the conference room.

  He was the last to arrive and when he did eventually enter the room he blustered in without even looking around. He’d regained his bravado, his swagger, his arrogant sneer. Jack had to hand it to him, it was remarkable how quickly he bounced back.

  ‘We did it,’ he said. ‘We got the bastard in the end, just as I said we would.’

  He flashed his eyes towards Jack. ‘Would have preferred him alive but – ’

  Tammy shot him a look that warned him to stop right there. Tom took the hint.

  ‘And now he stays here with us,’ he said. ‘He stays in the deep freeze. He’s not going anywhere. And no one will ever know.’

  He paused for a moment, as if wondering how to continue.

  ‘One other thing,’ he said.

  They all looked at him expectantly. A sly grin was wiped across his face.

  ‘You might like to know that I’ve just received an email. This very morning. Carla, can you get this thing running?’

  Carla switched on the interactive wall-screen and brought up Tom’s inbox.

  ‘That’s the one,’ he said, pointing to the top of the list. ‘It’s from the guys drilling in Greenland.’

  Carla opened the email and they all read in silence.

  Tom - Dale and I have been trying to get you on your cell-phone. We’ve been doing extensive drills some 3 miles to the S.E. of where we found the frozen corpse. We’ve turned up two more bodies, both in good shape. Also, what looks like the wreckage of a plane. We’ve hacked the corpses from the ice and packed them in Styrofoam. They’re yours if you want them.

  Tammy groaned. Gonzalez kicked at the floor. Sergeant Perez looked at Tom. Jack immediately started scrolling down his iPad, in search of the names. Otto Streckenbach and Joachim Ulrich. The other two members of Hans Dietrich’s Totenkopf team. He read them out to the room.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Tom. ‘You got it. Otto Streckenbach and Joachim Ulrich. They’ll be on their way to us tomorrow. And this time – ’ he sneered at the room – ‘we won’t let the bastards get away. They’ll be our little guinea pigs. We can experiment on them until there’s nothing left to experiment. Give ’em a dose of their own medicine. And then, when we’re done, we’ll announce our breakthrough to the world.’

  THIRTY-THREE

  ‘This Tammy woman – ’

  Karin was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, scrunching her hair backwards into a pony-tail. ‘She wasn’t too attractive?’

  The London sunlight was filtering through the huge bay window, already autumnal, and falling onto the rug in an abstract triangle. Jack smiled. It was the one question he knew she’d ask.

  ‘A southern cowgirl,’ he said. ‘All boots and jeans. And the sweetest kids.’

  ‘Oh - ?’ Karin looked at him, all surprised. The sweetest kids. She’d never heard that before.

  He leaned forwards and scooped a handful of pistachios.

  ‘She’s desperate to meet you.’

  ‘Me? Why me?’

  ‘I guess you were with us all the time, even though you weren’t. Even Tammy felt it.’

  ‘If I was there, it’s because I was jealous.’

  She got up, walked over to the window. In the garden square opposite there was a couple sitting on the grass drinking from a bottle of champagne. Champagne. It’s what she felt like drinking right now.

  ‘Have you contacted the woman in your film?’ asked Jack suddenly. ‘Katarina Bach. To tell her you’ve found her mother.’

  ‘I can’t be certain Frau Trautwein’s her mother.’

  ‘But it’s likely.’

  ‘Yes, it’s likely. The dates fit and so does the place. They even had the same eyes.’

  ‘Will you? Tell her, I mean.’

  She shrugged. ‘Maybe. I feel bad about knowing when she doesn’t. But I certainly won’t be telling her that her father – her possible father - is lying in a freezer-box in Nevada.’

  ‘No, perhaps that’s for the best.’

  There was a long silence before she changed the subject.

  ‘So how did he get into the garage?’ she said. ‘Hans Dietrich. How come you didn’t hear him?’

  ‘That’s exactly what w
e tried to work out. The alarm was on constantly, except for an hour or so when the fuses blew. The windows were closed and bolted and the doors double-locked. Christ, the place was Fort Knox.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘We went back through the whole sequence of events. And we came to the conclusion that it can only have been when we left for the murder at Lovedock Way. We went to the garage, got in the car and then Tammy went back into the house to get biscuits for the kids. When we finally left, she thinks she forgot to re-lock both the kitchen door and the door to the garage.’

  ‘So he was inside the house, lying in wait.’

  ‘Seems so. Must have been there for hours, biding his time. And when we returned, he decided to hide himself in the car. Probably did something similar for the other murders as well.’

  ‘That’s freaky as hell. And that’s how no one ever heard him coming?’

  Jack nodded. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And what about Ferris Clark? You never finished telling me about him. His body’s never been found, but he died in Greenland?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘I’m one hundred per cent certain that Ferris Clark was killed by Hans Dietrich. It must have been on the night of the fourth of June. And it must have been after eight o’clock in the evening, because that’s when Ferris Clark sent his forecast to England. I reckon he was already dead by four o’clock the next morning, when Hans Dietrich sent his wireless forecast to the Tirpitz. He was almost certainly killed in the early hours.’

  ‘At Camp Eggen?’

  ‘No. Not at Camp Eggen. That map reference you got from Herr Fischer is some distance to the north of Camp Eggen. That seems to have been where the American weather station was situated, on a chunk of rock in the middle of nowhere. Ferris Clark wasn’t with his comrades. He was on his own.’

  ‘So Hans Dietrich pitches up in the middle of the night, breaks into the weather station and kills him?’

  ‘Yes. But first he manages to extract the D Day weather forecast, perhaps by torturing him. And that’s exactly the point at which Ferris Clark tricked him. Gave him the wrong forecast. Told him the weather was going to be so bad that there was no chance of any Normandy landings taking place.