The Kaiser's Gold

by Bill Kitson

  Ogden waved my warning aside and told us to get out of his sight. I signalled to Pickersgill, who strolled across to our car. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Ogden roared after him.

  ‘Back to Laithbrigg with them. I could wait and get a lift with you, but I thought you’d be too busy. I feel sure the chief constable will be keen to hear your account of what happened to the prisoners.’

  At John’s insistence, the return journey involved a detour via Rowandale. There was no sign of life at Linden House. The building was securely locked, so Pickersgill announced that he intended to go interview the stable lads.

  ‘I’ve a key if you want to look inside,’ Eve said. ‘Barbara gave me it while I was staying with her.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Pickersgill told us. ‘Ogden’s already executed the search warrant for this property. However,’ he looked at Eve, ‘there’s nothing to stop you going inside. Especially if you’re concerned about your friend. For all you know she might be helplessly in the grip of a homicidal maniac. I’d say it was your duty to check.’

  The house felt cold and I was certain the absconding prisoners weren’t in residence. Eve went to check upstairs whilst I had a look round in the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was two used mugs in the sink. That was an indication that the couple might have been here, but were no more. However, when I opened the refrigerator, I knew that my guess had been accurate. The main compartment was all but empty, as was the ice box above it. I turned my attention to the freezer, and found this to be no more than half full. I had no idea if anything had been taken out of it or not.

  Eve had returned to the ground floor and was opening and closing doors. I tracked her down to the hallway, where she was peering into the clothes cupboard. ‘What are you looking for?’

  She closed the door and turned round. ‘Something that isn’t there. Barbara has been here, that’s for certain. She’s taken a lot of warm clothing, jumpers, thermal underwear, thick cords, and so forth. I looked in here,’ she gestured behind her, ‘and her wellingtons, hiking boots, scarves, gloves, and Barbour coat are all missing.’

  ‘It looks as if they’re planning a prolonged stay in the forest,’ I agreed. ‘The fridge is empty, so is the ice box, and the freezer is only half full. It looks to me as if they’ve taken all the food they can carry.’

  ‘You’re joking! The freezer was full to the brim. When I went shopping with Babs we bought half a dozen large pizzas. We had to put them in the fridge ice box because there was no room for them in the freezer.’

  ‘What do we tell John?’

  ‘I don’t like deceiving him.’

  ‘We’re already doing that by not telling him who Brian is.’

  ‘Perhaps we’d be better off simply saying we can’t be certain.’

  Minutes later, in answer to Pickersgill’s question, I said, ‘They’re not in the house. Nobody is. They might have been here, but we can’t be sure. What did the stable lads have to say?’

  ‘Barbara left a note for them pinned to the door of one of the loose boxes. She told them she would be away for a few days, but that they should carry on as normal. That’s all.’

  ‘What do you plan to do now?’

  ‘Go home, if you’d be so kind as to drop me off. I’m going to see how Ogden reacts before I decide my next move.’

  It was over a week before we learned what Pickersgill’s next move was, by which time the hue and cry was in full swing, and had taken on similar dimensions to the TV series, The Fugitive. So much so that one of the more enterprising reporters had compared Barbara’s companion to the lead character portrayed by David Janssen.

  In retrospect, although he has never confirmed or denied it since, I think Pickersgill had guessed the tramp’s identity. I believe that Pickersgill opted to wait in order to give Ogden chance to change his mind and redeem himself, or to continue on his reckless self-destructive path.

  Ogden, naturally, did the latter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Although we were both concerned by the problems besetting Barbara and Latimer, we were comforted by the knowledge that if Latimer had survived undetected in Rowandale Forest for that length of time, the efforts of Ogden to capture or dislodge them were scarcely likely to cause them much concern. Nor, as I pointed out to Eve, could Barbara be in safer hands, especially if our suspicions as to the true nature of their relationship were accurate.

  Over the ensuing days, Rowandale became the focus for the attention of most of the local population; certainly almost everyone who was sufficiently mobile to get within range of the manhunt. It had to be one of the most exciting events in the area for many a long year, competing with the recent murders for that dubious honour.

  The locals were joined by a considerable and growing contingent of media representatives. To begin with these were from the regional networks and newspapers, but they were soon augmented by national press, radio, and television reporters, together with their entourages.

  It was towards the end of the first week that one of them hit on the eye-catching headline ‘Bonnie and Clyde on the run–Again!’ Quite where he got the resemblance between Barbara and Latimer and those murderous bank robbers from, I’m not sure. I could see no similarity in their characters to Warren Beatty or Faye Dunaway.

  Not to be outdone, another continued with The Fugitive theme and came up with ‘Eat your heart out, Dr Richard Kimble’. The effect of these two headlines was to escalate the media interest from national to worldwide status. Rowandale was all but impassable, the narrow streets being choked with vehicles belonging to the media.

  As far as the search itself was concerned, Ogden, who had become something of a minor television personality, was fortunate enough to have the assistance of a regiment from the nearby garrison at Catterick, whose commanding officer volunteered them in order to give his men some rough terrain and jungle experience by helping search for the fugitives in Rowandale Forest.

  Along with many others we watched in bemused wonder at this circus. I suspect that many of the other onlookers shared our disbelief at this reckless expenditure of resources. The whole thing was conducted like a military operation, with military precision, and military predictability. As I observed the long line of soldiers and police officers marching in single file towards the outskirts of the forest, I gave an appalling imitation of Winston Churchill.

  ‘Never,’ I told Eve, ‘in the history of Rowandale, have so many spent so much time searching for so few.’

  ‘I get your point,’ Eve agreed. ‘But you’ll never make it as an impressionist.’

  ‘It’s ludicrous; they end the search when the light fails each evening, and then start again at dawn the next day, looking in a different area. All Brian and Barbara have to do is move to the area that was searched the previous day and as long as they don’t build a fire and start cooking bacon, they’ll be perfectly safe. As long as they stick to that method of searching, they’re wasting their time. For all the good they’re doing, Brian and Barbara might as well be miles away from Rowandale Forest.’

  I stopped speaking suddenly; my brain whirling with the crazy idea that had just occurred to me. I was aware that Eve was speaking, but I failed to take on board what she said.

  I looked round; we were standing on the hillside above and slightly to the east of Linden House. Our vantage point was shared with several dozen reporters and local inhabitants, all of whom were experts in the art of eavesdropping. I took Eve’s hand and squeezed it gently. ‘Let’s get out of here. I need to talk to you without anyone else to overhear the question I’m going to ask.’

  Once we were safely in the shelter of the car, with the engine running, I asked, ‘Remember you said Barbara’s freezer was full? What was in the top half, can you recall?’

  ‘There was a lot of meat. Steaks and chops, joints and mince, bacon and sausages. Quite a few packets of frozen vegetables too. Oh, and some cartons of milk and sliced loaves. Why do you ask?’

  ‘If you add tha
t to what was in the refrigerator ice box, how long do you think it would last if only two people were eating it.’

  ‘Weeks and weeks, I reckon.’ As she answered my questions, Eve was looking at me with a curious expression on her face. I was convinced she thought I’d taken leave of my senses. Especially when I started laughing. I put the car into gear and took the handbrake off.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Back home; we’re wasting our time here.’

  ‘Adam, are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine, Evie, but I reckon I know where Brian and Barbara are hiding, and that lot–’I gestured towards the forest,‘–haven’t a cat in hell’s chance of finding them.’

  ‘Why not? Where do you think they are?’

  ‘Bearing in mind that Ogden has no idea of the tramp’s identity, where do you think is the last place he’d look for them.’

  ‘Of course: Rowandale Hall!’

  ‘It was the sheer volume of frozen food they took from Linden House that gave me the idea. If they’d taken all that into the forest most of it would have gone off before they got round to eating it. Added to which, they’d risk discovery by lighting a fire to cook with. Whereas in Rowandale Hall there would be fridges, freezers, ovens, all they’d need. All the home comforts.’

  I heard a rich gurgle of laughter as Eve was overcome by the absurdity of the situation. ‘You’re dead right, Adam. I’m absolutely sure of it. How very clever of them.’

  ‘That would explain why Brian refused to give his name or reveal anything about himself when Ogden tried to question him. Without any clues to suggest otherwise, Ogden would assume he would return to the forest where he’d been living all these months. All that warm clothing Barbara took from Linden House was part of the smokescreen. They knew we’d be the most likely ones to look, and they wanted us to be deceived along with everyone else.’

  ‘Why? Why try to fool us? We wouldn’t have given the game away. Surely Barbara would know that.’

  ‘They might have been worried that we’d do it accidentally, or go racing across to Rowandale Hall. For all they knew Ogden might have put a tail on us. Besides which, if we behaved exactly as we did, by watching what was happening in the forest, it would help their deception strategy.’

  ‘How? In what way would it help?’

  ‘Remember Ogden’s immediate reaction on learning they’d escaped? He rounded on us; convinced we had to have been involved. With that as his mindset, what more natural than to keep an eye on us, to see if we could point him to where the fugitives were. The longer we watched the forest, the more convinced he would become that they were inside it.’

  ‘That’s extremely deep thinking, Adam.’

  ‘Yes, and I’d say it shows that Brian Latimer is no mean tactician.’

  Next morning, we had barely finished breakfast and cleared the dining table when we received a visit from the local police. John Pickersgill’s car pulled up outside, and was quickly joined by two more. Both of these were far more luxurious than the local officer’s. I watched the trio of men walking down our short drive, reflecting that we might need to incorporate a car park into our plans to revamp Dene Cottage. As they approached, I recognized one of them, but only vaguely.

  ‘We’ve got visitors, Eve.’

  She peered out of the window. ‘That’s Detective Inspector Hardy, isn’t it? One of the officers who came to Mulgrave Castle; he was leading the inquiry.’

  ‘Yes, I think you’re right. I thought I knew the face, but couldn’t put a name to it.’

  ‘Hardly surprising; you were badly concussed when you met him.’

  It was Hardy who greeted me as I opened the door, and introduced his colleague. I glanced at the chief constable, and was immediately struck by the family likeness to his cousin John. I suppose this appeared to be more pronounced because they were standing close together.

  ‘We need to talk to you and Miss Samuels as a matter of some urgency,’ the chief constable told me.

  I invited them inside and offered them a cup of tea. All three accepted, and having ascertained how they took their drinks, I told the chief constable, ‘I ought to warn you that if you’re to become regular visitors, I might have to invoice you for refreshments. Your cousin already costs me a small fortune in tea bags.’

  The chief constable gave me a piercing stare, one which would have nervous recruits trembling at the knees. I guessed this to be habitual, for his face soon relaxed into a smile. ‘So John told you we’re related, did he? That’s good, because he doesn’t mention it to many people. Shows he trusts you, which is good enough for me.’

  When we were settled with our drinks, he continued. ‘I’m taking you into my confidence on John’s assurance; backed up by Detective Inspector Hardy. I was a little reluctant, given your previous career in the media, but both of them seemed convinced it was the right thing to do. Will you both give me your word that what I am about to tell you will remain completely confidential?’

  Having received our promise, he went on. ‘Tomorrow, Detective Inspector Hardy will be taking over responsibility for the investigation of all three murders. Inspector Ogden will be re-assigned to other duties. I’d like Hardy to start with all the facts at his disposal, and John told me he was under the impression that there might be some information that you possessed which hadn’t been given to Ogden. In particular, he told me he believes you might know more than Ogden about this mysterious tramp he believes committed the crimes. Is that so?’

  I looked at Eve for guidance, and saw that like me, she was undecided. ‘That’s not easy to answer,’ I told them. ‘Yes, we may know or suspect something, but we have other confidences to keep, not just the one we’ve given you.’

  ‘I’m not sure if this helps,’ Hardy interrupted, ‘but I can assure you I’ll start the inquiry with a completely open mind. I won’t rule anything out, but on the other hand I won’t take anything for granted.’

  I looked at Eve again, and by way of answer, she told the detective. ‘The tramp didn’t commit the murder. I don’t know who did, neither does Adam, but I can safely say that any time you spend investigating him will be wasted. Apart from anything else, the man isn’t a tramp at all. If you listen to Adam, he’ll tell you the man’s identity and then you can judge for yourself.’

  Rather than going straight ahead with the identification, I led them to it by a circuitous route. I was pleased I had, because in the course of it, the chief constable strengthened my case by contributing some useful background.

  ‘How well do you know the recent history of Rowandale Hall and the estate?’ I asked.

  ‘Very well,’ the chief constable replied. ‘I was a regular guest on the estate when Rupert Latimer was fit enough to organize and hold his own shooting parties. We also played golf together regularly, and when his wife was alive we dined with them quite frequently.’

  I seized on this information, drawing him closer into the tale. ‘You’ll have met the tramp quite often, then,’ I told him.

  ‘Why, did he work for Rupert?’

  ‘No, but he would be there most of the time, when he was younger, certainly.’

  He sighed. ‘You’d better tell me his name, if you know it.’

  ‘I do. His name is Brian Latimer.’

  I believe I could have exploded a grenade in the room at that point and neither man would have noticed. They stared at me with utter disbelief written clearly in their expressions.

  The chief constable was the first to recover. ‘That’s impossible; Brian Latimer is dead. He died a long time ago.’

  I held up my hand. ‘Please, don’t give me that Mexico story again. That body wasn’t Brian Latimer. I saw the pathologist’s report and checked certain facts with Barbara Lewis. The report states that the dead man’s eyes were brown, and Barbara confirmed verbally and with photographic evidence that Brian Latimer has blue eyes. She should know, she’s stared into them often enough; both recently and when they were youngsters.’

&
nbsp; ‘I never saw that report.’ The chief constable’s face was sad. ‘If I had, I would have known that the body couldn’t have been Brian’s. You’re right, he did…er…does have blue eyes. Poor Rupert; he died without knowing Brian was still alive. That knowledge might have helped him get over the guilt he felt because of what happened years ago. If the man Ogden has down as a tramp is Brian Latimer, I think we’ll have to look elsewhere for the killer.’ He smiled ruefully, before adding, ‘The reason I know so much about Brian is that I’m his godfather.’

  If I thought I was good at delivering conversation-stopping speeches, the chief constable was even better. Eventually, Hardy leaned forward and asked, ‘Can you tell us the whole story; or as much of it as you can?’

  We began to relate what we could, starting with Eve’s encounter with the tramp at the stables. I explained what we’d discovered about Brian’s past, including the imprisonment and torture, which shocked all three men immeasurably. The effect on his memory and his severe claustrophobia merely added to their horror at what Latimer had suffered.

  After we finished giving the facts as we knew them, there was a silence as all three reflected on the shocks they’d received. Hardy cleared his throat. ‘I think the chief constable’s opinion has to be taken into account, as well as your knowledge of Latimer, and with that in mind I shall rule him out as a possible suspect for the murders. I will issue orders that the arrest warrants for him and Mrs Lewis are to be cancelled, and we’ll make a fresh start.’

  He smiled at Eve and me. ‘As it appears you’re the best detectives in the area; can you tell us if you’ve any idea who committed the murders, and what the motive might have been?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far, but we we’ve been lucky enough to view the case from the inside, so perhaps we’ve been able to pick up things that Ogden missed. One of them in particular we found interesting.’

  ‘And that was?’

  ‘Several members of the shooting syndicate that now holds the rights at the Rowandale estate are involved in the construction and civil engineering industry. That in itself isn’t sinister, but when you add in the proposed new trunk road which will cut across the estate, and which will entail the use of a lot of sand, gravel, aggregate, and road-stone, all of which is contained within the estate, then you get a very interesting possible scenario. Especially as they seem desperate to get their hands on the estate. Even then I have a feeling there might be still more to it than just the trunk road, but as to what the full motive might be, I don’t know.’