Whisper For The Reaper

by Jack Gatland

  ‘…other people,’ he finished. ‘Things you should look at and know.’

  Declan stared down at the USB drive, wondering what secrets he’d find on it.

  ‘She really wanted you for the team,’ Marlowe walked to the front door. ‘You were going to be asked at your dad’s funeral. She was there, you know. But she saw Monroe in the car park and decided not to. And by the next day you were with him.’

  ‘They really hate each other then?’ Declan asked. Marlowe shrugged.

  ‘I don’t think it’s hate, but when you’re married to someone one day and then the next you allow the government to remove every scrap of identity about you, effectively saying that not only does the marriage no longer exist, but you yourself no longer exist, that’s probably a bit of a marital punch in the balls for the other half.’

  With a last nod and a wave, Marlowe started down the path towards his BMW, currently parked on the verge.

  ‘Take care, Tom,’ Declan finished with a smile. ‘Don’t ever end up in my crosshairs.’

  ‘It’s when you end up in mine, you need to worry,’ Tom smiled back as he climbed into his car, and Declan felt that this was more a warning than a jocular reply. And as the car drove off, back towards London, Declan entered his house, closing the door behind him.

  Monroe was on the stairs.

  ‘He gone?’ he asked. Declan nodded.

  ‘He explain who he was?’ Monroe continued. Declan nodded again.

  ‘If you want to talk about it, I’m here,’ he replied. ‘Especially the marriage part.’

  Monroe groaned at this. ‘Bloody rumour’ll be all over the Met by tomorrow, with your sodding knack for keeping secrets,’ he muttered. ‘Thank God Kendis is gone, or it’d be on the front—‘

  He stopped, his eyes widening.

  ‘God laddie, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Declan picked up Marlowe’s mug of coffee, walking it into the kitchen as he spoke. ‘But I do want to know what the hell happened.’

  ‘Just what you think happened,’ Monroe followed him into the kitchen. ‘Me and Emilia fell in love on the job. We had a fling, ended up getting married. We were seeing things every day that made us wonder how long we had on this earth, seeing people snap out of existence like that. And then one day she was gone.’

  ‘What do you mean, gone?’

  Monroe poured himself a glass of water from the tap and sipped it before replying.

  ‘Marlowe’s mother was a spook that we worked with. She died.’

  ‘At the 7/7 bombings. Marlowe mentioned that.’

  ‘Emilia and Olivia were close. Very close. With hindsight, I’d even say they were having an affair, but I didn’t see it. And then when Olivia died, Emilia changed. We had problems, but then name me a marriage that doesn’t. We were in too deep with Lucas by then, and Derek Salmon was off the rails big time, we had a massive barney about this and then the next day Emilia was simply gone.’

  He finished the glass, as if using the time to plan the next sentence.

  ‘I learned later that she’d accepted a Whitehall position to run a deep-ops organisation, effectively replacing Olivia, and in the process had her entire identity scrubbed. To keep her loved ones safe, if you can believe that spook bollocks. I came home to find everything connected to her gone, even the photos. She didn’t turn up to work, and when Patrick checked in to why, he was told we’d never had a DS Wintergreen working with us. Even the file notes were altered. And just like that, I was un-married.’

  He looked to the sink.

  ‘Spooks,’ he spat the word like a curse. ‘A pox on the lot of them.’

  Declan wanted to mention the USB drive, but Jess entered the kitchen at that point.

  ‘Have you asked him?’ she asked Monroe, who forced a smile back at her.

  ’Not yet,’ he said, looking back to Declan. ‘I was going to go home, as unlike every other bugger here I didn’t book a room at the resident bloody hotel, and now the rooms are all gone.’ He filled the glass again. ‘And I’ll be honest, I’m finding it hard to be here. I’m still not sure that I want to stay on once this all finishes. Even if the Last Chance Saloon continues after this case, we’re higher profile now. They’ll want someone in above me, a Detective Superintendent, and I don’t play well with others.’

  ‘If you need to leave, I totally understand,’ Declan replied, but Monroe shook his head.

  ‘I’m going to help, but at a distance,’ he explained. ‘Get out of your way. I’ve booked a flight tomorrow to Berlin, and I’m going to check into our German cop friend, his mad bastard dad, and your mechanic buddy.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Declan frowned. ‘I mean, you had a concussion—‘

  ‘Christ, laddie, I’m not an invalid!’ Monroe snapped. ‘And besides, I won’t be alone. I’ve called for backup.’

  Monroe didn’t elaborate, and so Declan didn’t ask any further questions.

  ‘As long as you’re sure,’ he finished. ‘What time’s the flight?’

  ’Stupidly early in the morning,’ Monroe smiled. ‘I’ll take my leave tonight and be there by first thing.’

  ‘Well, you can stay for dinner first,’ Declan insisted. ‘If only to tell me what you gathered from my dad’s secret study.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I gathered,’ Monroe laughed. ‘I gathered that Patrick had some serious trust issues at the end.’

  Declan laughed back at this, but at the same time there was a weighing down of the USB drive in his pocket.

  What was on it, and what did it say about Monroe?

  Billy was alone in the Library when Dave the landlord walked in.

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ he said as he gathered up the dirty plates. ‘Just cleaning up the lunch rush.’

  ‘No worries,’ Billy smiled as he carried on working. Dave walked around the table, picking up plates and glasses, but paused as he reached Billy, staring down at the file on the table beside him. A photo of Nathanial Wing stared up at him.

  ‘That the kid who died on the golf green?’ he asked. Billy looked up.

  ‘I’m sorry, but we can’t talk about active investigations,’ he replied apologetically. ‘Unless you have anything that can be used—‘

  ‘I might, actually,’ Dave had placed the plates down now, picking up the photo and staring hard at it. ‘Yeah, it’s him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Billy, now interested, turned to face Dave who placed the photo down.

  ‘That lad was in the pub a few days back,’ he replied.

  ‘You remember everyone who comes into your pub?’ Billy was impressed, but Dave shook his head.

  ‘Not like that,’ he said. ‘I mean, I remember watching him as he didn’t look eighteen, but he didn’t order anything. It was more who he met with.’

  Billy felt like he already knew the answer to the next question, but he asked it anyway. ’You’re telling me that a day or so before his death, Nathanial Wing met with someone in your bar?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Who?’

  Dave had grabbed the plates again and was already walking to the door as he spoke.

  ‘The German police officer, Müller,’ he finished. ‘They met for a couple of minutes, and then the kid left after some heated words. I didn’t hear what they were, but the German shouted out something as he left. Something like tag send gezalt.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t know what it meant, but I remember thinking he’d sneezed on the last word.’

  As Dave left with the dirty plates, Billy started checking the words through a German to English filter on his laptop. After a few tries, he found what he was looking for.

  Tage Sind Gezählt

  Billy stared in shock at the translation next to the three German words.

  Days Are Numbered

  His hand trembling, Billy picked up his phone and called Declan.

  ‘Guv?’ He said when it was answered. ‘I think you need to come back to the Library. I think we have a lead.

  14

&nbs
p; Wheeler Stealer

  By the time Declan, Monroe and Jess had arrived back at the Library, Billy was already deep in conversation with Doctor Marcos.

  ‘What do we have?’ Declan asked. Billy showed his screen, and so Declan and the others joined Doctor Marcos at the table. On the screen was CCTV footage of the bar.

  ‘Our landlord friend was kind enough to give me this footage,’ Billy said as he returned the footage to the start. ‘Taken the night before Nathanial Wing died, so we’re looking at around twenty-four hours before his murder.’

  On the screen was the bar, and several tables were in view. At the bottom right however was Rolfe Müller, sitting on his own, and reading a book.

  ‘He’s like that for about fifteen minutes,’ Billy explained. ‘Doesn’t order a drink, just sits and reads. And then around seven twenty…’ he slid the viewing slider along, and the scene jumped slightly as Nathanial Wing now walked into the bar in the top left-hand corner.

  ‘Watch,’ Billy said as, on the screen, Wing walked directly over to Rolfe’s table.

  ‘He knew exactly where to go,’ Monroe mused. ‘Didn’t even look around.’

  On the screen Wing and Müller exchanged words, Wing still standing. Then, after about twenty seconds, Wing sat down opposite the German detective.

  ‘We don’t have sound, but we have body language,’ Doctor Marcos added here. ‘Nathanial Wing is nervous, agitated. Even through this camera we can see that he’s fidgeting, filled with nervous energy. Müller on the other hand is calm, relaxed. He’s not surprised to see Nathanial.’

  ‘They know each other,’ Declan rubbed at his chin. ‘Why do they know each other?’

  ‘Maybe Müller is the German that the other kids heard talking to him?’ Jess suggested. Absently, Declan nodded as, on the screen, the two men leaned in, deep in discussion. And then, as quickly as it started, it was over as Nathanial Wing rose from the chair, still talking to Müller, slamming something down onto the table.

  ‘What’s that?’ Declan asked. ‘Can we zoom in?’

  ‘We’ve had this talk before,’ Billy admonished. ‘We’re not the movies. All I can make out is that it’s a chit, or a coin of some kind.’

  ‘Maybe we should get one of the movie guys then,’ Monroe muttered.

  ‘Go wild,’ Billy replied as on the screen Nathanial Wing walked off as Rolfe Müller shouted after him. ‘They cost way more than me. Oh, here’s where he shouts out in German that Wing’s time is numbered.’

  On the screen Ilse Müller appeared in the bottom right corner, walking to the table as Rolfe quickly pocketed whatever Nathanial Wing had left. She sat facing her brother as Declan paused the footage.

  ‘Go back,’ he ordered. ‘To where Wing rises.’

  Billy did so, and on screen Nathanial Wing did the same as he had before, but this time Declan noted something else.

  ‘There,’ he paused the recording. ‘He’s looking off to the bottom right before he rises and leaves. I think he sees Ilse entering and leaves before she can speak to him.’

  Playing the recording again, the team watched as Nathanial Wing rose, placed the whatever onto the table and left, as Ilse returned.

  ‘They sit together for five minutes and then she too leaves,’ Billy said, speeding through the footage until on the screen Ilse rose, walking away from the table.

  ‘She’s angry with him,’ Doctor Marcos commented. ‘Body language is tight, tense. She’s expecting a fight.’

  There was a moment as Rolfe watched her, and then he picked up his book and read—

  ‘Stop,’ Declan snapped, tapping the space bar to do just that as he spoke. ‘Look.’

  In the top right corner, another figure could be seen walking after Ilse as she left.

  ‘That’s Karl Schnitter,’ Declan hissed. ‘I’d recognise him anywhere. And I know he drinks in there most nights.’

  ‘Could be coincidence,’ Monroe pursed his lips as he considered this. ‘Or, there’s something more going on.’

  ‘We need to speak to Karl,’ Declan looked to the door. ‘I could get Anjli to—‘

  ‘She’s already interviewing,’ Doctor Marcos said. ‘And we need to speak to Müller too.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ Monroe inserted. ‘From what we’ve already seen, Müller’s arrogant and a stickler for rules.’

  ‘How do we know that?’ Billy asked.

  ‘He believed we should share everything with him, but wouldn’t force the issue when you said you couldn’t,’ Declan replied. Monroe nodded at this.

  ‘He sees himself as an equal to Declan, as he’s the equivalent in rank. So let’s see what he does when a Detective Chief Inspector has a word.’

  ‘You talk to Rolfe, and I’ll go talk to Karl,’ Declan suggested, already texting the German mechanic to see where he was right then.

  ‘We’ll go talk to Karl,’ Doctor Marcos interjected. ‘He’s an old friend of yours, and you might find yourself swayed by that. If I’m there, we’ll ensure it’s by the book.’

  Declan almost went to contest this, but stopped himself. He knew Doctor Marcos was right.

  ‘Anything from Anjli and De’Geer?’ He asked. Billy shook his head.

  ‘I’ll keep you updated,’ he replied. ‘Go on, get out there and be detectives, while I tell your daughter that she really needs to reconsider her career choices.’

  ‘Good luck with that one,’ Declan laughed as he moved to the door.

  Karl Schnitter had two garages, but often worked out of the smaller one in Hurley Bottom, towards the Henley Road. And it was here that Declan and Doctor Marcos went to. It wasn’t that far from the pub, but Declan still drove the Audi, mainly because he was too tired to bother walking.

  ‘Did you know Monroe was married once?’ he asked Doctor Marcos as they pulled up outside the garage.

  ‘He’s been married a couple of times,’ Doctor Marcos replied with a smile. ‘But then again, maybe I have too.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘You’ll never know, my dear.’

  Declan grinned as they walked towards the main entrance. ‘More than once? Twice? Are you a Black Widow? I mean, if anyone knew how to off husbands without people knowing, it’d be—‘ he stopped as he pushed at the main door. ‘That’s odd. The door’s usually open.’

  Doctor Marcos pointed at the closed garage doors. ‘Maybe he’s not working here today?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Declan said as a crash, the kind of crash that a toolbox of spanners tumbling to a concrete floor would make echoed around the inside of the building. Declan walked to the doors to the garage, hammering on them.

  ‘Karl!’ He shouted out. ‘It’s Declan! Open up!’

  There was still no sound, and Declan banged on the door again. Hearing nothing, he looked around for something to gain height, so he could look through one of the top windows in the garage doors. Rolling a tyre to the door, he clambered up on it to peer through the window.

  ‘Christ!’ he shouted as he almost fell from the tyre, jumping down and running to the door. ‘Help me get it open!’

  He shoulder barged the door, but yelped in pain as his gunshot wound tore. Before he could try for a second time though, Doctor Marcos ran over with a crowbar and, jamming it into the space between door and frame, cracked the lock out of its mounting, smashing the door open.

  ‘Come on!’ Declan ran into the garage, and for the first time, Doctor Marcos could see what had caused his panic.

  The garage had two ramps, with hydraulic lifts, so that they could lift cars over a dip in the ground. Here, mechanics could move freely underneath the cars as it held them in the air. And, on the left-hand side, a SUV had been placed onto the hydraulic lift and raised up to its full height, the top of the SUV almost scratching the top of the high garage ceiling. From wheels to floor, there was a height of about eight, nine feet.

  And, at the back of the car, in his overalls, with a ratchet strap around his neck and hanging a foot off the ground, was Karl Schnitte
r.

  ‘Quick!’ Declan grabbed Karl’s legs, taking the weight as Doctor Marcos ran to the control box, pressing the DOWN button. As the SUV lowered, Declan saw that someone had tied the small ratchet strap around the rear towbar of the SUV and, as it’d risen, it had pulled Karl up with it until he was hanging off the ground.

  Declan saw the toolbox, the contents scattered across the floor.

  ‘The killer might still be here!’ he snapped as Doctor Marcos grabbed a length of pipe and looked around.

  To Declan’s surprise though, as they pulled the strap off Karl’s throat, the German’s eyes opened and he drew in a thick, raspy breath of air.

  ‘Huh-huh-huh’ was all he could say though as he grabbed at his throat, wide eyed and looking around, a mixture of relief at surviving and fear as he realised that whoever did this could still be here.

  ‘It’s me!’ Declan said as Karl locked eyes. ‘You’re lucky we found you. A minute or two later and you’d be dead.’

  Karl leaned over and coughed onto the concrete, the coughing bringing up bile and a small amount of liquid as he vomited. Eventually he lay back on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. Doctor Monroe was already on the phone, calling an ambulance as Declan rose, looking around. The back door to the garage was open, leading into the back corridor.

  ‘Where does that go?’ he asked urgently. ‘Stay with me, Karl. Where does that go?’

  ‘Buh-back door,’ Karl croaked. Declan left Karl on the floor, grabbing the largest wrench that he could find and running to the door, moving into the back corridor and, more slowly now, inching his way to the right-hand turn at the end—

  Which led to an open door, leading out to a space at the back of the garage. There was a ten foot high wire fence around the property, but there were enough palettes and parked up car chassis for someone to use one of them as an escape ladder. Whoever had run out of the door was long gone by now.