by Ken McClure
‘You’ve got it wrong!’ spluttered the man, almost incoherent because his face was being pressed up against the wall.
‘Oh, no,’ hissed MacLean, ‘You’re the one who’s got it all wrong.’
‘You don’t understand!’ insisted the man.
‘I understand only too well,’ growled MacLean. ‘I want to know who in Lehman Steiner paid you; I want to know where and when. I want dates, times, places and I want to know why?’ Is that clear? I do hope so because if you don’t start talking within the next thirty seconds and I am going to place the muzzle of this gun inside your mouth and I am going to pull the trigger. In short, I am going to blow your head off! Now is there anything there that you don’t understand?’ MacLean tightened his grip on the man’s arm until he cried out in pain. ‘No! I saved you… in Glasgow… I saved you from Der Amboss.’
The name had an almost hypnotic effect on MacLean. He relaxed his grip slowly but still kept the gun trained on the man. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
‘Jacques Vernay, Lisa’s brother.’
MacLean was dumbstruck. He lowered the gun. ‘Lisa Vernay’s brother? Lisa, at Lehman Steiner?’
‘Yes,’ said the man, holding a hand up to his grazed cheek.
‘What’s your connection with all this?’
Vernay rubbed his arm where MacLean had twisted it and said, ‘I am a policeman Doctor. When my sister was found dead in her swimming pool I didn’t believe for one moment that it had happened as they said. Lisa would never have dived into the water at any depth, let alone at the shallow end of the pool. She hated diving. I was convinced that she had been murdered and said so to my superiors. They instigated an immediate investigation. Three days later it was abandoned. No explanation was given. I was simply told that the case was closed. I couldn’t accept that. I decided to pursue the investigation on my own.’
‘How?’
‘If my own people wouldn’t help I decided to try the other side,’ said Vernay.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘The underworld, Doctor. I used my savings to buy information about my sister’s death.’
‘What did you learn?’
‘I came up with the names of the two professional assassins who had been hired to kill Lisa. I took the information to my superiors expecting them to apologise and re-open the case immediately.’
‘And did they?’
Vernay smiled bitterly and said, ‘I was dismissed from the force for consorting with criminals. I now had no job and no sister. Lisa and I were twins you know.’
‘I didn’t,’ confessed MacLean. He hadn’t known Lisa Vernay well.
‘I decided to seek my own justice. I went after Lisa’s killers on my own and I caught up with one of them in Paris. To my shame I “persuaded” him to talk.’
MacLean did not enquire how. ‘What did he tell you?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Vernay.
‘But you said you made him talk.’
‘He didn’t know anything, Doctor. That’s often the way with these people. They are told only what they have to know. He had no idea why his employers wanted Lisa dead only that it was something to do with something called, Der Amboss.’ Vernay watched MacLean’s reaction when he said the word. He saw that it meant something.
‘That’s what the man in Glasgow said,’ said MacLean. ‘He said that Der Amboss was too big. I couldn’t win.’
‘The man you threw out of the window?’
‘I didn’t,’ said MacLean.
‘Whatever,’ said Vernay. ‘What else do you know about Der Amboss, Doctor?’
‘Nothing. Tell me.’
‘It’s a German word. It means “the anvil” but it’s some kind of code for an agreement between Lehman Steiner and ultra-right wing political factions. My sources say that this includes a group in the United Kingdom.’
‘Is that why you’re here?’
Vernay shook his head. ‘No I was following the second of the two assassins who killed my sister.’
‘The man who fell from the window?’
‘The man you led to the river,’ said Vernay.
‘Ah,’ said MacLean, suddenly making sense of what had happened by the riverside walk.
‘When I saw you lead him there, I assumed you had some plan,’ said Vernay. ‘It was only at the very last moment that I realised that you were going to let him kill you. I shot him instead.’
‘Thanks,’ said MacLean, embarrassed at how strange it sounded.
‘Why do Lehman Steiner want you dead Doctor?’
‘I don’t know,’ said MacLean. ‘But if it is any help, it’s for the same reason that they wanted your sister dead. We both worked on Cytogerm.’
Vernay looked blank.
‘Lisa didn’t tell you about her work?’ asked MacLean.
‘We had an agreement not to speak about each other’s work,’ said Vernay.
MacLean balked at telling Vernay the whole story. He was mentally exhausted and Tansy would be worried.
‘Perhaps we could continue our talk at the house?’ suggested Vernay.
‘No!’ said MacLean with a vehemence that took Vernay aback. ‘I don’t want anything to do with this business in the house.’
‘Very well,’ said Vernay. ‘What do you suggest?’
MacLean thought for a moment before saying, ‘Meet me here tomorrow evening at eight.’ Almost as an afterthought MacLean asked, ‘Why did you come here? When you shot the man in Glasgow, your job was over. You had found both of the men involved in your sister’s death.’
‘These men were just tradesmen Doctor. I want to find the men who gave them their orders. I want to find out about Der Amboss. I thought you could tell me.’
Tansy flew into MacLean’s arms and they held each other tight without speaking. Carrie still didn’t understand what was going on but she thought that she would cuddle MacLean’s leg anyway. MacLean acknowledged her by reaching down to press her to him.
‘What happened?’ asked Tansy, her voice filled with trepidation.
‘He wasn’t from the company,’ said MacLean.
Tansy looked up at him with relief showing on her face. ‘Then it was a false alarm?’ she asked, the tone of her voice willing him to say yes.
‘Not exactly,’ said MacLean.
‘I don’t understand.’
MacLean told her about Vernay and why he had come.
Tansy’s eyes, which had been filled with happiness a moment before, began to cloud over. She shook her head, as if unwilling to accept what she was hearing. ‘Policemen, professional killers, revenge killing, right-wing politics… ‘
MacLean held her close again and said, ‘The main thing is that Lehman Steiner has not found me. We are still safe.’
Tansy responded to MacLean’s hug and said, ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. Why did Vernay come here? What did he want with you?’
‘He thought I knew more than I do. He thought I could tell him about Der Amboss.’
‘I see,’ said Tansy but MacLean sensed that she was thinking about something else. She seemed to withdraw from him mentally. She went off to the kitchen and pretended to do things for a few minutes before coming back and saying, ‘I think I’ll go out for a walk. Carrie! Stay with Uncle Dan please. I won’t be long.’
MacLean nodded and felt helpless as he watched her go out through the door without turning.
Carrie was close to tears. She looked up at MacLean in the silence, her eyes tortured by uncertainty.
‘You’ve got mud on your nose,’ said MacLean.
Carrie rubbed her nose ineffectually with the back of her hand. The gesture had an air of defiance about it. MacLean beckoned her to him. He removed the smudge with a tissue and said, ‘There, that’s better.’
Carrie suddenly broke into tears when the dam of emotion that had been building up inside her broke. MacLean rocked her in his arms, trying to assure her that all would be well.
‘What’s wrong, Uncle Dan?’ Carrie aske
d tearfully. ‘I don’t understand.’
MacLean felt a lump come to his throat. He didn’t know what to say. ‘Life is sometimes very difficult for grown-ups Carrie. We make a terrible mess of things and then we get unhappy. But, if we all work at it, the unhappy times will pass and everything will be all right again. What do you say you fetch your train and we’ll play with it till Mummy gets back?’
Carrie went off to get her train, happy that at least someone was speaking to her… even if she didn’t understand a word of it.’
MacLean did his best to concentrate on playing with Carrie. He was aware that she was watching him for signs of distraction and equally aware that he was over-compensating for this by laughing a little too loudly or exaggerating his movements in the game. He felt relief flood through him when he heard Tansy put her key in the door.
Tansy stood in the doorway and smiled at the sight of the pair of them on the rug. Carrie ran towards her and was swept up into her arms. Tansy looked over Carrie’s shoulder to MacLean and said, ‘I’m sorry, I just had to be alone for a bit.’
MacLean nodded.
‘You two must be starving,’ said Tansy taking off her jacket. ‘Let’s see what we can do about that.’
The three of them played at being one big happy family until it was time for Carrie to go to bed. Carrie had been the only genuine player. When Tansy came back after tucking Carrie she looked at MacLean uneasily as if suffering from pangs of guilt. MacLean said gently, ‘It’s all right you know, I understand. You found out this afternoon that you’d bitten off more than you could chew.’
Tansy smiled weakly and said, ‘True. I discovered that I wasn’t nearly as brave as I thought I was. When that man came to the house and you went outside with a gun…’
MacLean nodded.
‘Suddenly it all seemed so close to us! Before it was a story, far away. Something that happened somewhere else. I was so afraid this afternoon. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared.’
‘There’s no shame in that,’ said MacLean softly.
‘Even when you came back and told me he wasn’t from the company the only thing I could think was, if he found you, so could they!’
‘Now you know why it’s better that I go,’ said MacLean.
‘No!’ replied Tansy vehemently.
MacLean looked at her questioningly.
‘I made a decision when I went for my walk. We will see things through together. I discovered that I’m not the bravest person in the world but I’m not the weakest either. We stay together.’ Tansy put her head back on the chair and said, ‘God, I feel exhausted.’
‘Go to bed,’ said MacLean gently.
‘Join me?’ asked Tansy, reaching out her hand for MacLean who took it and kissed the back of her fingers. ‘Soon,’ he said.
Tansy went to bed leaving MacLean with his thoughts. She had been wrong in supposing that Lehman Steiner could find him just because Vernay had. Vernay had destroyed any direct link when he had shot their man in Glasgow. On the other hand, any prolonged contact with Vernay was something to be avoided. He had seen the look in Vernay’s eyes when he spoke of the death of his sister. The man was on a mission. That could make him a liability. He wished that Vernay had never appeared on the scene but then felt guilty at the thought. Vernay had saved his life. If it had not been for him he would be rotting in a Glasgow grave.
MacLean decided that he would have to keep his meeting with Vernay but that there should be no more contact between them. He would not join Vernay on his crusade against Lehman Steiner. He would simply tell him about Cytogerm and ask him to be on his way. In the back of his mind he suspected that the company were not going to take the loss of their men lying down. However uncharitable the thought, he had no wish to be discovered by accident by men hunting down Vernay. With any luck Vernay would be on his way by Monday and Dan Morrison could go back to being happy.
SEVEN
Tansy seemed much recovered after a good night’s sleep. She was even keen to discuss what Vernay had told MacLean.
‘Why would Lehman Steiner be involved in politics?’ she asked.
‘Big business is always interested in politics,’ replied MacLean. ‘They have to be. Politicians control the environment in which they operate. They set the levels of taxes and subsidies and make the conditions that affect company profitability. It’s not at all unusual for companies to donate money to whatever party will create the best environment for them to trade in.’
‘But why would Lehman Steiner be interested in the politics of other European countries? Surely they couldn’t hope to influence every country’s affairs?’
‘They’re an international company,’ said MacLean.
‘So what’s the connection with Cytogerm?’
‘I wish I knew,’ said MacLean. ‘Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe it’s just that the company uses the same bullyboys for a variety of reasons.’
‘I’ve been thinking about Cytogerm,’ said Tansy.
‘And?’
‘I think they’re still using it.’
‘And hiding the corpses?’ said MacLean sceptically.
‘I didn’t mean using it generally. I meant for special purposes.’
MacLean could see that Tansy had some ‘special purpose’ in mind. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘Well, since right-wing politics have been mentioned… it occurred to me that Cytogerm might be being used for plastic surgery on criminals.’
‘Criminals?’
‘Nazi war criminals,’ said Tansy quickly.
MacLean looked at Tansy as if she had said something funny. He was trying to suppress laughter and she felt mildly annoyed at not being taken seriously.
‘Tansy, do you realise how old these war criminals are?’ asked MacLean.
‘I suppose they must be getting on a bit,’ Tansy conceded.
‘They are geriatrics! No one would recognise them now anyway! That’s assuming they’re still alive and even that’s doubtful,’ said MacLean. ‘But if they are, they will be broken, old men stumbling towards their graves with every prospect of eternal damnation looming before them. Being made to look like Tom Cruise isn’t going to help!’
‘All right,’ conceded Tansy, feeling foolish. ‘How about international criminals. Surely they would pay a lot to have their looks changed? And with Cytogerm it could be done in a matter of a couple of weeks, you said so yourself.’
‘I don’t question the feasibility of it,’ said MacLean. ‘It’s just that it wouldn’t make sense for a giant like Lehman Steiner to be involved in something like that. There can’t be that many Mr Bigs needing the treatment.’
Tansy agreed in silence.
‘Sorry,’ said MacLean, ‘But if Cytogerm is involved in anything it would have to be something really big, something worth many millions of pounds.’
Tansy nodded and dropped the subject. She walked over to the window and looked out at the sunshine. After a few moments she turned and asked, ‘Feel like a walk?’
MacLean kept his appointment with Vernay at eight that evening. The afternoon walkers had all gone home leaving the towpath to the gathering dusk and the occasional stray dog. The air was still but there was a suggestion of a blue haze and a smell of burning leaves. MacLean guessed that it came from the house about a mile further along the canal. It had a large beech hedge round it and with beech, falling leaves were always a bigger problem in the spring than in the autumn. It had been a fine day; the owners had probably spent it tidying up the garden.
Vernay was waiting for him when he arrived at the bridge. They shook hands and started to walk slowly along the towpath. MacLean had his hands in his pockets; Vernay kept his behind his back like a Royal personage. MacLean told him of his time at Lehman Steiner, the euphoria over the early results with Cytogerm and the bitter disappointment that was to come with the death of Elsa Kaufman.
‘Four of us died after the project was wound up,’ he said. ‘Kurt Immelman, Max Schaeffer, Lisa and Jutte who died
instead of me.’
‘Then you must feel the same way towards the company I do,’ said Vernay.
MacLean could sense that the question was loaded. ‘There was a time,’ he admitted, ‘when I was desperate for revenge. Like you, I thought I could take on Lehman Steiner and win because… ‘ MacLean paused and smiled wryly. ‘Because right was on my side and good always triumphed over evil.’
‘What changed your mind?’
‘Three years of hell. I lost everything. Jutte, my home, my job, my friends and, in the end, I… simply lost hope.’
‘That explains your behaviour in Glasgow,’ said Vernay.
MacLean nodded and said, ‘But thanks to you I survived. Now I have a home, a job and happiness with Carrie and Tansy. I am no longer interested in the past, only the future. If you expect me to wrap a prayer scarf round my head and go crashing into the might of Lehman Steiner on some kamikaze mission you can forget it. I loved Jutte but she’s dead and nothing can bring her back. Tansy and Carrie are alive and they need me that way. They are the only things I will fight for now.’
‘And that explains your reaction at the bridge yesterday,’ said Vernay rubbing his arm and touching the graze on his cheek.
‘I’m sorry. I thought you were from the company,’ said MacLean.
‘I could have been,’ said Vernay.
‘That’s why we mustn’t meet again,’ said MacLean.
‘And Jutte is to go unavenged?’
MacLean did not rise to the bait. ‘I told you, I am not interested in revenge.’
‘I understand you wanting to defend what you have,’ said Vernay, ‘But the best method of defence is attack, is it not?’
‘Not with the odds loaded as they are in this case,’ said MacLean.
‘Do you think you can hide forever?’ asked Vernay, changing tack.
‘Maybe they won’t look for ever,’ replied MacLean.
‘Two of their agents died not sixty kilometres from here.’
MacLean wished that Vernay had not said that.
