by Hylton Smith
Black was astonished at the emergence of this sudden rebellious character of Moss. He’d always thought of him as an establishment veteran.
He now had to speak with Connie as soon as possible, in order to ‘relax’ on logging in the gold ring. He knew she would take some convincing, but in fairness it couldn’t be proven to have belonged to the deceased as yet. There were dozens of other items retrieved from the mud, and they had been discarded as irrelevant. They could be legitimately forgiven for keeping such a valuable piece to one side until there was good reason to officially include it. One such mitigating fact was the inner inscription of the initials M.V. and that was why Freda Collins had already been asked to investigate this as grounds for inclusion or elimination.
So, they couldn’t be accused of sitting on anything, it was simply in process. He didn’t think Connie would buy into this but he couldn’t think of a better plan.
*
Hexham, Northumberland
Maggie Reichert was livid. She had to follow orders to tell her father that her bosses had declined to contact the Abwehr after all. She realised this would scupper a legitimate way of her father using the investigation as a shield to extract information from the Abwehr about her grandfather.
“Sorry, Dad, I can’t say why this has happened and we would understand if you don’t want to go ahead on your own. I’m told that things could change if anything you find out throws new light on our case, but that seems to be a long shot.”
“So, this young German airman, and he must have been very young at the time he died, is finally discovered in our country, and someone decides that it isn’t worth pursuing. What about any living relatives he may have back in Germany? Don’t they have a right to know? This makes me very angry, Maggie. Two can play at this game.
“If I’m not allowed to refer to the disc you brought to me, I will go ahead and ask directly about your granddad’s ID code. I’ve put this off so long because of what I might find out, and this sudden change by the local police adds to that feeling of frustration. Perhaps this is the final straw, the one I needed to push me into asking the Abwehr for direct answers. You can tell Inspector Black that I’m very disappointed in him, and remind him that he came for my help, not the other way around.”
“Ok, I fully understand your position Dad, and I only wish that I could explain the real reasons for all this, but that’s not possible, I could even lose my job.”
“Yes I can imagine love, so off you go, and don’t you worry about me, I’ve needed to do this for a hell of a long time, I just didn’t know that I needed someone to really kick me up the backside and make me angry enough to get on with it.”
As Maggie left she saw her mother gossiping over the back garden fence with a neighbour. It was a graphic illustration of how tongues could be loosened in the most innocent ways. Like Moss, she was keenly interested in who was responsible for the case being hijacked by two strangers on the top floor. Black seemed to be more keen to know why. She knew she hadn’t been told the full story and grudgingly accepted that this was deemed as necessary containment. That didn’t prevent her from keeping her ears to the ground and quietly trying to figure it out for herself.
*
Newcastle C.I.D.
As soon as Maggie entered the canteen and dumped her keys on a vacant table, she was confronted by Black.
“Do you want tea or coffee, Maggie?”
“Neither, I’m going to have fizzy water.”
“So, how did it go?”
“It didn’t, sir, my father was pretty pissed off that you lit his fire, and then immediately sent in the emergency services to douse the flames.”
“I can understand that, and I’m really sorry. Is he going to contact this Abwehr?”
Maggie had her chance.
“Who knows? He just clammed up at first and then eventually said we were a bunch of pricks. But I suppose he’d always known that. He also said that for a fleeting moment, when you visited him, he had maybe misjudged the force, but not anymore. You really put me in a difficult position with my family, especially if you decide later that you do want my father’s help. I would respectfully suggest you don’t ask me to contact him about this again. Send someone else, if you change your mind again.”
Black had anticipated several possible responses, but not this. It had been Moss’s instruction which he’d carried out instantly, but without processing it properly. He made a mental note that this had to be addressed.
Chapter 11
High Spen 1945
Michael hadn’t been quite so happy for many a year. It was a curious yet symbiotic relationship he’d formed with Karl. As a chosen way of life, being a hermit, a dropout, a tramp, or any of the other expressions the community used to describe him, he’d never actually had any desire to avoid people, per se. He just couldn’t stand conversational small talk. The villagers all seemed to be afflicted with complaining about their ailments, the cost of living, the buses being late, the weather, et al. None of this did anything but alienate him. Karl was perfect. They couldn’t yet understand much of what the other said, so it provided company without baggage.
Things were, however, progressing to the essential vocabulary for survival. Karl had mastered yes, no, eat, fire, clothes, and a few other monosyllabic words. One of the most urgent tasks for Michael had been to appropriate new attire for his friend, mostly from unattended washing lines. The Luftwaffe uniform could then be used as blankets. The rest of the communication was achieved through mime, gestures, and drawing in the soil with a stick.
From Karl’s point of view, his new friend had not only provided a safe dwelling, but had essential local knowledge, which would help him move on when the search was abandoned. The semantics of Michael’s attempts to explain that Karl’s ex-campmates were being prepared for going home, failed to register with the German. He’d tried telling his escapee pal this every single day, without a hint of acknowledgement, so he wasn’t feeling too guilty that Karl stayed.
*
Meanwhile, the stranger who’d taken Harry’s drawing of the disc, was now fully in charge of overseeing the departure of the remaining airmen. Theo Devlin had produced the schedule and interrogated each one until he was satisfied there was no connection with any known wartime agents or double agents of espionage, or purveyors of disinformation. He’d deliberately kept one particular airman until last, so that the others couldn’t be used as corroboration or denial of anything.
“Good morning, Gunther. It is Gunther isn’t it?”
“Yes, you must know this.”
“Can I have the disc?”
“Oh yes, the disc, it is in mein bag, sheiss, the bag – it is there, still at the tent.”
“Right, well bring the bag please and give me both discs.”
“Each man in der Luftwaffe has only one disc.”
“Yes, but you have kept Karl’s disc safe for him, surely?”
“Ah, I now see your mistaking, it is lost from me. I only can believe one other colleague has it. You can ask them, it must be with one of them.”
“I see, well in that case please go and get your own disc, and then I will question your friends.”
When Gunther returned, groped in his bag, and felt the disc, he handed it over without looking at it. Devlin had to alter his carefully laid trap.
“This is Karl’s disc, not yours. You need to tell me the truth. Start talking.”
“It cannot be correct, my number is 23…9, mein Gott this is impossibly, this disc has the number 277. I did not have two discs during this night, I was cleaning my own disc with old stocking. What can I do now? This is yes, the disc of Karl. Where is mine?”
Devlin thought his shock was reasonably genuine, but it didn’t alter the need to get all of the airmen together in one tent, separated from their kitbags and clothes.
They were marched naked, one at a time, from one tent to another, protesting vocally, until they saw the gathering crowd of villagers who had co
me to see them off. The males who’d been shouting abuse at the Germans now switched to mocking laughter, until they realised the women were enjoying an unexpected treat. Some of the women put their hands over the children’s eyes while they taunted their husbands and boyfriends. The men then dragged their partners away in case there was to be a repeat performance.
Each airman was asked in turn and in the presence of all the others about a missing disc. Devlin by now expected a wall of silence, despite the shock they displayed when he asked the question in perfect German. ‘So none of you know where the disc is? The disc of Karl Heinz Buchwald? Yes, we know his full name, his German address, and where the rest of his family is located. We need to speak with him urgently or it may hold up the departure of the rest of you. Think about this please, because I do in fact know where his disc is, but not how it got there. I’ve got all the time in the world.’
The first signs of panic in the ranks appeared just as one of the Home Guard officers brought the news that a full search of the kitbags and clothing had produced nothing. Devlin shook his head and spoke once more in German. ‘I am afraid your return must be delayed. You can all unpack and return to your own tents unless one of you has suddenly remembered something of interest to me about Karl Heinz Buchwald and how I found his disc. Oh, and Gunther, I believe your family name is Klein, so we must now find your disc, otherwise you will have to stay here indefinitely. Your friends may be able to help you to find your disc, I really hope so. Have a talk amongst yourselves for a while, then we’ll bring everyone’s clothes back before it gets really cold.’
Devlin wandered up and down their ranks, listening for any hint uttered in German which might offer a clue to who the phantom disc swapper might be. He heard snippets of accusations and subsequent dismissals, but they were based on nothing more than guesswork. The most common chatter was about the predicament of Gunther, who was by this time sitting, totally perplexed, while the rest were still standing in groups, and he was having difficulty in holding back a panic attack.
Devlin relented and ordered the clothes to be brought back. The devastated Germans then filed back to their own tents, all except Gunther. Devlin suggested they had an honest exchange in German.
‘I don’t want anything to be misunderstood because your English is rather basic. Can we do that?’ Gunther nodded. ‘Right, let’s recount everything from the time you were cleaning your own disc.’
*
The tiny but scrupulously clean terrace house was a very happy place for a change, and its occupants were bursting with anticipation. Harry had a brand new outfit, brought home from college by his mother. Hilda couldn’t believe this day would ever come, her husband Jack was on his way back. It had been difficult to keep the faith all these years.
Bella had used up the dividend money to put on a welcome home party, and although she couldn’t say that no expense had been spared, it was a very special event. She’d secured a chicken from Mr Wilson, and a neighbour had given her lots of fresh vegetables. Even though Hilda’s father had deteriorated further, he had insisted on making the journey by bus from Harrogate. He was shaken up a bit by the rough roads and was taking a nap.
Harry continually asked when his dad would arrive, approximately every ten minutes. Hilda was glued to the front room window, from where she could look up the street to the main road. The bus stop was directly outside Cumberledge’s shop, and just out of sight. But she would be able to see it pull away from the stop, heading for Chopwell, and she’d be able to recognise most of those who got off.
The Venture bus service came through the village at twenty past the hour and ten to the hour, every hour until eleven pm. Two had gone by in the afternoon and a cloud of restlessness settled over the household. Despite the cold, Hilda decided to take Harry up to the bus stop, to relieve the tension. Through the billowing mist, they spotted the ten to three chugging up the final few yards to the Road-End club, and past the Palace cinema. The engine noise altered to a less strenuous pitch and swung toward the kerb. As it halted with a slight lurch, Hilda’s tears streamed down her cheeks on to her emerald-coloured silk blouse. Jack threw his kitbag on to the path and picked up Harry with one hand, pulling Hilda close to him with the other.
They hadn’t spoken to one another for five years. The embrace continued without words until Harry nuzzled his face between them. The bus pulled away and the three of them walked down the slope to the waiting friends, Harry was swinging from his mum and dad’s arms for the very first time. The bunting came into sight and Jack began to struggle with his emotions. He’d imagined and dreamt about this scene so many times. The cocoon was pricked for both Hilda and Jack when Harry revealed his secret.
“Dad, I’ve got a new football, can we play with it today? I gave my old one to a German soldier called Karl, but he’s lost now. He was my friend you know, you mustn’t tell anybody.”
In a microsecond, a montage of flashbacks whirred through Jack’s mind. He stumbled, then put Harry down. In his inability to come up with a cogent reply, he settled for, “Well that was kind of you, son. Do you miss your friend?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know him very well, the same as I didn’t know you,” said Harry, turning to the gathering of Jack’s friends, “who wants to play football with me and my dad?”
A local photographer had volunteered his services to capture this special day. This was the first day of Jack’s rehabilitation as a civilian. A task which was a lot easier said than done.
*
Devlin reached into the depths of his acquired German vocabulary.
‘Now Gunther, think carefully about how everything was when you began cleaning your disc. Had you already lost Karl’s disc?’
‘Yes, quite some time before.’
‘Did you tell anyone else?’
‘Only those in my tent.’
‘Did any of them leave while you cleaned your disc?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘You need to be sure. Think carefully. Did any of these men comment on Karl’s disc being lost?’
‘Torsten said it would show up again, and not to worry so much, because Karl had made his own problem by escaping. Now I remember, when he said that, Albert went to the latrine.’
‘How long was he gone?’
‘Only two minutes I suppose, not more, he didn’t take paper with him.’
‘Did any of the men dislike Karl for any reason?’
‘One or two, they were probably scared that his behaviour would get everyone in trouble.’
‘Was Torsten one of these?’
‘No, he liked Karl, but he felt the same as I did, expecting you to find him and send him back to Germany later.’
‘Who was the third person in your tent?’
‘Herman, but he was already asleep when I started cleaning my disc. He can sleep forever.’
‘Right, how long were you cleaning the disc?’
‘About twenty minutes, not longer. I stopped when we all heard an argument outside.’
‘Who was the argument between? Could you hear what it was about?’
‘It was in one of the far tents, but I can’t say which one. It happens a lot when you’re in a confined space with people you didn’t choose to be with. It sounded as if there was disagreement over who would be a spokesman when we arrived back home. Something about all of us saying the same thing about how our missions went wrong, how we were captured, how we were treated and lots of stupid stuff. You see, we expect to be questioned when we arrive, even though the war is over.’
‘I do see, now could you recognise the voices?’
‘No, there was such a lot of shouting from other tents for them to stop because they couldn’t sleep. This has been discussed many times already by all of us and we thought the decision was made, apparently not.’
‘Was this at the same time Albert was at the latrine?’
‘I don’t think so, but it might have been, Torsten was laughing about it, saying those who w
ere arguing were idiots. He couldn’t believe they were worried about an interrogation when we didn’t even know whether our families had survived. He referred to them as trained monkeys and said if there hadn’t been so many of them in Germany, there would never have been a war. Just a minute, Albert mustn’t have returned by then otherwise he wouldn’t have used that expression. Albert was one of these monkeys according to Torsten, and they once had a hell of a fight about it.’
‘But Albert’s voice wasn’t one of the voices you heard during the argument?’
‘No, well I can’t be sure, as I said there was lots of shouting. He would have been interested in the outcome if there was a change of spokesman though. Anyway, he was back in the tent before I finished cleaning the disc, and the argument was still going on.’
‘Did you all go to sleep after the argument and the shouting stopped?’
‘We tried, but it took a while. We were excited about leaving today. I kept turning over and prodded Herman because he was snoring like a thunderstorm.’
‘Was everyone in the tent when you did this?’
‘Yes, well Albert was at the door of the tent, and I asked him to turn Herman on to his side to stop the snoring, as he was the nearest. I’m not sure but I think there might have been someone else just outside. I didn’t hear anyone speak but it could have been a shadow.’
‘Fine Gunther, that will do for now. Try to relax and I’ll speak with you again.’
Chapter 12
The Suburbs of Newcastle
Freda Collins was enjoying her jaunt around the extensive list of local jewellers, but as yet she hadn’t found anyone who was confident enough to be certain about the origin of the gold ring found with the skeleton. One of the more well-known stores put her on to a little shop in Heaton, a fairly cosmopolitan suburb of Newcastle. It was next door to a bespoke tailor, who explained that the owner, Mr Hajek, was out to lunch.
“What time do you think he’ll be back?”
“You never know with Milan, he won’t hurry if the food is up to his demanding standards,” said the tailor, “you’re welcome to wait here if you like, he’s been gone more than an hour so he shouldn’t be too long.”
