by Jack Treby
‘I...sorry, what?
‘Captain Rüdiger was the pilot of the plane.’
I snorted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
The girl was insistent. ‘He flew the plane out from Croydon aerodrome. I remember him welcoming us on board. He knew we were going to be travelling on the Richthofen so he came back to say hello, before we took off.’
‘Captain Rüdiger?’ That couldn’t be true. The first officer of a German airship wouldn’t be piloting a passenger plane from London. ‘Was it a Zeppelin flight?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t know they ran their own flights.’
Miss Hurst was a bit vague on the details. ‘It was a Lufthansa flight, I think. It was all part of the package. I believe they’re some sort of affiliate company.’
‘You mean, they run connecting flights for the Zeppelin company?’
‘I think so. That was what Herr Kaufmann told me, anyway. I gather one of their pilots was off sick. They had all the airmail from England to collect and they didn’t want their passengers arriving late, so Captain Rüdiger stepped in.’
‘Good lord.’ I sat back in my chair and took a moment to digest the news. So the grim looking first officer had been in England on Saturday morning as well. How come nobody had mentioned that to me? Could Rüdiger have been involved in the theft somehow? Was he a friend of Mick Durrant? ‘You didn’t see him speaking to anyone else before you boarded the plane?’ I asked. ‘Like a baggage handler or someone like that?’
Miss Hurst hesitated. ‘I’m afraid I don’t recall.’
I scratched my chin. I was probably grasping at straws. ‘If the first officer was moonlighting, then Captain Albrecht must surely have known about it.’
‘I imagine so,’ Miss Hurst agreed.
‘So why didn’t he mention it to Jacob Finch?’ I frowned. The captain knew the importance the policeman placed on that particular flight. He would surely have passed on any pertinent information; and you could hardly get more pertinent than the name of the pilot. But if he had told Finch, that information had not been passed on to me. Perhaps the Englishman had ruled Rüdiger out as a suspect early on; then there would have been no reason for him to mention it. But there was another, more sinister possibility. What if Captain Albrecht had known his first officer was on the flight but had kept it a secret? What if he was in on the whole thing, in cahoots with Captain Rüdiger? I shook myself. No, that was absurd. The captain of a Zeppelin airship would not involve himself in criminal activity. It was unthinkable.
‘What did you make of the other passengers?’ I asked. ‘Frederick Gray, Adelina Koenig and Josef Kaufmann?’
‘I didn’t speak to Mr Gray. Herr Kaufmann was very kind. A very warm hearted man.’
‘He didn’t seem nervous at all on the flight?’
‘Not that I noticed. But my mind was on the journey – and meeting up with Gerhard – so I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else. But Frau Koenig was very friendly with the captain. I do remember that.’
‘Captain Rüdiger?’
‘Yes.’
I nodded. Those two had been as thick as thieves since day one. I would have to ask Captain Albrecht a few hard questions about his first officer, the next time I spoke to him. I wasn’t going to rule the fellow out as a suspect just yet. I growled. This case was becoming ever more complicated. Why couldn’t a criminal just wear a mask and carry a swag bag, like they did in the pictures?
I pushed back my chair. There was nothing more Miss Hurst could tell me, though she had given me plenty to think about. He had given me, I thought. I stared at the fellow again, unable to quite believe what she had told me. But there was no doubting the physical evidence. ‘I have to be honest, my dear,’ I said. ‘You make a damned fine woman.’
She beamed then. It was the first time I had seen her smile and her face lit up. ‘I do my best. Although heaven knows where I’ll sleep tonight.’
That was a thought. ‘Yes, bit unfortunate, Finch being knifed to death in your cabin.’ She flinched at the unpleasant image. ‘You won’t have to go back in there,’ I reassured her hastily. ‘The stewards will sort something out for you. There’s a spare room on the far corner. I imagine they’ll put you both in there. You and Miss Tanner. All girls together.’
Miss Hurst looked at her lap in embarrassment. ‘Will you tell her? I suppose she ought to know. It’s not right, me sharing a room with her. What will she think when she finds out the truth?’
‘It’s only for another couple of days,’ I said. ‘No harm done so far. Best just to leave well alone.’
‘You...you’re not going to tell her either?’
‘No reason why I should. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. Although you will have to concoct some explanation for that passport of yours.’
‘I...I’m sure I’ll think of something.’
I smiled. ‘It’s not easy leading a double life, Miss Hurst. I know that as well as anyone. But I believe you’ve got what it takes. You fooled me, after all, and more importantly you fooled Miss Tanner. Good grief, in the same cabin!’ I chuckled. ‘That’s got to count for something.’ I stood up and shook the woman by the hand. ‘And as to the passport....well, I don’t see that there’s any need for anyone to follow up on that.’
‘You’re very kind, Mr Bland. I’m not sure I deserve it.’
‘No, I’m not sure of that either,’ I joked. ‘But to be honest, Miss Hurst, I have far more important things to worry about right now.’
My valet was hovering in the corridor outside the lounge room. A couple of stewards were ransacking Mr Lindt’s room, immediately to our left. The sliding door was wide open and I could see one of the stewards rifling through the clothes hanging in his closet. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked Maurice.
‘The captain has ordered all the cabins searched. They are starting with Monsieur Lindt.’
I grimaced. ‘Lord, he won’t be happy about that. Have you sent off that telegram?’
‘Yes, Monsieur. Some time ago. The head steward took it down to the radio room.’
‘Well, let’s hope we get a reply this evening.’ I crossed my fingers. It was getting a bit late for that sort of thing. I gestured Maurice along the connecting corridor towards the dining room. Loud voices could be heard coming from the other side of the doorway. As usual, Karl Lindt was the loudest of them. As I had predicted, the man was not at all happy. Captain Albrecht’s briefing of the passengers had not gone well.
‘This is not acceptable,’ Lindt was saying, as I slipped through the entrance into the dining hall. ‘You have no right to treat us like criminals.’ The businessman was sitting at a table to the left of the door. Captain Albrecht, whom he was addressing, was standing opposite it, with his back to the far windows. ‘All our luggage was checked before we came on board. You have no right to ransack our cabins.’
‘I do not have a choice in this matter,’ Albrecht insisted. ‘A man has just been murdered. Someone on board this ship is responsible for his death.’
‘Jacob Finch should never have been allowed on board,’ Lindt snarled, as I padded quietly over to a far table and found myself a seat. I didn’t want to get involved in a slanging match but it might be fun to observe from the sidelines. ‘This is a German airship. It is no place for a British policeman.’
I raised a hand to Josef Kaufmann as I sat myself down next to him. The tubby fellow was sensibly keeping well away from his business partner. The tables were covered with the remnants of a light supper, which the stewards had not yet started to clear. I was feeling famished, so I grabbed a sandwich from one of the plates, while the argument continued on the other side of the room.
‘I was not aware that he was a policeman until after we left Friedrichshafen,’ the captain explained. ‘It was then that he approached me and told me of his investigation.’
‘You should have thrown him off the ship in Seville,’ Lindt declared. ‘Then none of this would have happened.’
‘I had no reason to do so, Herr Lindt. Mr Finch beha
ved impeccably. Of course, had I known that people might be endangered by his investigation then I might have behaved differently.’
‘You should have foreseen it!’ Lindt glared at the captain.
‘He seems rather put out,’ I observed, leaning across to speak to Josef Kaufmann.
‘It is the searching of the luggage that he objects to,’ the German responded quietly.
‘You have no right to search our rooms!’ Lindt repeated to the room as a whole.
‘Why,’ I asked Kaufmann, keeping my voice low, ‘has he got something to hide?’
The other man had no idea. ‘Not that I am aware of, Mr Bland.’
Adelina Koenig took this moment to add her weight to the argument, in rapid-fire German. Luckily, Kaufmann was on hand to provide me with a translation. ‘She also has some objection,’ he whispered. ‘Her room was searched earlier today and some items have apparently gone missing.’
‘Yes. That was Mr Finch, this afternoon.’ So Lindt was concerned that the same thing might happen to him. Or perhaps there was something incriminating in his luggage that had not been noted at customs in Germany.
‘Two rolls of film were removed from her cabin,’ Kaufmann continued. ‘She is not happy to lose them. I have offered to replace them for her, but of course the photographs themselves cannot be replaced.’
The captain responded in English, addressing Mrs Koenig and Karl Lindt. ‘Nothing will be confiscated from any of the rooms without my permission. And, I assure you, a record will be kept of everything that is taken.’
I was more interested in Kaufmann’s photographic supplies. ‘You have a lot of film, do you?’ I asked, ignoring the raised voices for a moment.
The German smiled. ‘Yes, I brought far too much with me. Travelling to Rio, I thought there would be plenty of opportunity for photography. But there are only so many photographs you can take of the ocean. Gerhard Schulz borrowed a couple of rolls of film from me before we arrived in Seville and I also lent a couple to Frau Koenig. I believe those were the ones that disappeared from her room.’
‘Damn,’ I said. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I am certain. Why, is something the matter?’
‘No. Nothing important. Do you happen to know what brand the films were?’
‘Brand?’
‘The manufacturer?’
‘I am sorry. I do not recall. I can look, if you wish.’
‘It wasn’t KG Corfield Ltd was it?’
‘Ah yes, that is correct. I bought them in England, just before I flew out.’
I nodded. So the films Finch had confiscated – the ones I had carefully destroyed – could not have been the ones containing images of the Special Branch file. It was back to square one, as the radio people say. ‘What did she want the film for anyway?’ I wondered. ‘I’ve never seen her using a camera.’
‘I am afraid I do not know.’
Another question occurred to me, this time about Kaufmann. ‘What were you doing in England, if you don’t mind me asking?’
The man smiled again. ‘You are interrogating me,’ he observed, without rancour.
‘Just trying to make sense of a few things.’
‘Captain Albrecht said you were assisting Mr Finch with his enquiries.’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘It was a sales trip,’ he explained. ‘Karl sent me to London. There was a potential buyer there but it did not work out. Not many people are buying at the moment, with the state of our economies.’
‘No. Things are still a little delicate,’ I agreed. I remembered Walter Kendall’s gloomy prognosis for European businesses.
The argument between Lindt and Albrecht was still going strong on the opposite side of the dining room. The businessman was now pointing a bony finger in my direction. ‘Why are you not searching his room? Look at him, he is covered in blood.’
I glanced down at my shirt. Kaufmann had been too polite to mention the blood stains.
‘That’s not exactly surprising, Herr Lindt.’ Thomas McGilton leapt to my defence. He was seated at the middle table, with his fiancée. ‘It was Mr Bland who found the body.’
‘We only have his word for that,’ the German responded tartly.
‘The poor man died in my arms,’ I said, exaggerating slightly and raising my voice to carry across the room. ‘I couldn’t avoid getting blood on me. And I’m afraid I haven’t got a change of shirt. The other one’s wet through from this afternoon.’ Why was he getting at me all of a sudden? I wondered. ‘And as I recall, Mr Lindt, you were coming from the direction of Mr Finch’s room just before I arrived there. So if you’re going to hurl accusations around...’
‘I am not making an accusation!’ Lindt snapped back at me.
‘Gentlemen,’ Captain Albrecht interceded, his hands raised. ‘Will you please calm yourselves? All of the passenger rooms will be searched, including that of Mr Bland. The truth will be uncovered, one way or another.’
At that moment, the head steward appeared in the doorway and coughed to attract the captain’s attention. He was carrying a small green briefcase. ‘Herr Kapitän?’
‘Yes, what is it Stefan?’
‘We have finished searching Herr Lindt’s cabin. Everything seems to be in order, but this case has a lock on it.’
Karl Lindt leapt to his feet. ‘That briefcase contains private papers of no relevance whatsoever to this investigation. The contents have already been inspected.’
Captain Albrecht was striding across the room to take hold of the briefcase. He had to circumnavigate Lindt’s table to do so and almost collided with the owner of the case. The other man glared at him but Albrecht remained calm, forcing the fellow to step aside with a firm look. McGilton pulled back his chair and cleared a bit of space at the middle table so the steward could place the briefcase down on top of it.
‘Nevertheless, you will open the case for us, Herr Lindt,’ Captain Albrecht insisted.
‘What is the point? It was already searched in Friedrichshafen.’
‘Then you will not object to us looking again.’
Lindt scowled and came forward with a key. ‘Very well.’ He unlocked the case and pulled back the lid. As he had claimed, the inside was stuffed full of paperwork; business documents and such like. Stefan, the head steward, rifled through them quickly. ‘You see? A complete waste of time. If you’ve quite finished?’ The man seemed in rather a hurry to close the case up again.
Stefan had removed all the documents and was pressing down on the bottom of the case. ‘Herr Kapitän?’ Albrecht nodded his consent and Stefan produced a small penknife from his pocket. He slid the blade between the bottom of the case and the lining. It caught underneath. The steward muttered something in German and the captain peered over his shoulder as he pulled back the base and revealed a sudden extra layer.
We all leaned forward to see what was inside.
The briefcase was stuffed with American Dollars.
Chapter Seventeen
Josef Kaufmann rose to his feet and let out a gasp of surprise.
The steward grabbed a bundle of notes and flipped through them in awe. ‘There must be ten thousand dollars there,’ Thomas McGilton exclaimed, from the opposite side of the table. ‘That’s a fair old nest egg.’ There were murmurs of agreement from the other passengers.
Captain Albrecht looked up. ‘Well, Herr Lindt?’
‘Fifteen thousand dollars,’ the man corrected. About three thousand pounds. ‘What of it? Every cent of it belongs to me.’
The captain pursed his lips. ‘You are aware, Herr Lindt, of the restrictions on the movement of currency?’
‘I am aware of the bureaucracy. But it is hardly a serious offence. I am entitled to do what I wish with my own money.’
Josef Kaufmann was still boggling, from the other side of the room. ‘But Karl. That money....’
‘You were not aware that Herr Lindt was in possession of such a sum?’ Albrecht asked.
‘No, I...
I do not know where he could have got it. Such a large amount. Karl, what is going on...?’
For once, Karl Lindt had nothing to say. The captain waved a finger at me. I rose from my chair and allowed myself to be drawn away into a quiet corner. ‘Mr Bland. This money. Could it have some bearing on the matter Mr Finch was investigating?’ He spoke softly, so that only I could hear him. ‘The theft of your government’s file?’
‘What, some kind of payment you mean?’ I grimaced. ‘Lord, I hope not.’ If the money had been paid out for the sale of the documents, then that meant the negatives had already been passed on. ‘But yes, I suppose it could.’ And the false bottom in the briefcase suggested Lindt had come prepared for that very eventuality.
‘Very well.’ Captain Albrecht turned back to the rest of the room. ‘The money will be confiscated until its true ownership is determined.’
‘You can’t...’ Lindt exclaimed.
‘And Herr Lindt will be confined to his cabin for the rest of the trip.’
The businessman’s mouth fell open in astonishment. ‘You cannot be serious,’ he breathed.
‘I am deadly serious. My first duty is to the safety of my passengers and crew. I have reason to believe you may be a threat to that safety.’
Sir George Westlake, who had been sitting at the same table as Mr Lindt, thought that was a bit extreme. ‘Now, hang on, old boy,’ he protested.
‘I am sorry. A man has been murdered. I have no choice in this matter.’
Lindt launched a tirade of furious German at the captain. Adelina Koenig, who had remained surprisingly quiet up until this point, joined in with the defence.
‘This is not a discussion!’ Albrecht declared. I had never seen the man so close to losing his temper. ‘Stefan. You will escort Herr Lindt to his cabin and lock him in.’
‘You cannot do this!’ Lindt exclaimed.
‘I can and I will. You will stay in your room for the rest of the trip. If you have need of anything you can ring for a steward. Stefan, escort Herr Lindt to his cabin.’
The head steward moved forward with two of his underlings. To my surprise, Mr Lindt did not put up any resistance. He could not resist a parting shot, however. ‘When we arrive in New York, I will contact your superiors,’ he hissed. ‘You will never captain an airship again. I will see you are stripped of your rank and thrown out onto the street.’
