Hunter's Revenge

by Val Penny

“Not with George Reinbold?” Tim asked.

  “Don’t be smart, that’s different!”

  Gillian spoke. “DI Hunter, I have noticed that George Reinbold’s recent scrapbooks show that someone by the name of Heinrich Reinbold has been appointed as General Manager to the European chain of hotels which have opened in Scotland. See, this scrap here.”

  “What is the chain called?” Hunter asked.

  “Gemuetliche Erholung. It means Comfortable Rest. I think the first branches in Scotland opened in Edinburgh, Glasgow and Aberdeen at the beginning of this month. The family Bible has an entry for a son born to George’s twin sister, Ingrid. The child’s name was Heinrich. There is no entry to show she ever married.”

  “Well-spotted, Gillian. I’ll get Colin and Nadia to check on this manager too. Thanks, I’ll leave you to it. How long will all this take you?” Hunter asked.

  “I will be quicker if you stop finding me extra pieces of paper to translate!”

  “Fair play.” Hunter turned and looked at Tim. “Don’t just stand there with your mouth open, young Myerscough. You’re seeing her this evening. Don’t you have work to do?”

  ***

  Colin enjoyed working with Nadia. She was clever and organised, and took her turn to make the coffee. She also didn’t drop crumbs all over the desk. He thought she was a great improvement on John Hamilton, his previous partner.

  “Thanks Nadia,” he said, taking a fresh mug of coffee from her. “Do you have that registration number?”

  “Yep, we got it from the Edinburgh airport incident, and it appears the car was reported stolen by the owner in Folkestone.”

  “Folkestone? That’s a long way away. I see it was reported about a week ago, and Folkestone is near the entry to the Channel Tunnel, isn’t it?”

  “Hmmm. It is. But the car came north, Colin.”

  “Let’s just check the film on CCTV. In that length of time it could have gone south first, you know.”

  “I suppose so,” Nadia said doubtfully.

  “We better check.”

  The two of them watched CCTV coverage of the entry to and exit from the Channel Tunnel until their eyes hurt.

  Suddenly, Nadia punched Colin’s arm. “Look! There! We’ve got the bugger, it’s on its way to France. Pause that screen. Let’s print it off.”

  “Now all we’ve got to do is find it coming back.” Colin rubbed his arm as he picked the sheet off the printer. “It’s not a great picture of the driver, is it?”

  “Looks like a man, maybe. The angle of the camera makes it impossible to see under the hat. Does he have a beard or is that a shadow?” Nadia screwed up her eyes to try to see more clearly.

  “I don’t think pulling faces will help you see him any better. Even if he has a beard there, he might not have by the time he drives back!” Colin laughed.

  “Let’s study the cars coming the other way, so we get this one on its way back, shall we? Oh, and it’s your turn to get the coffee. But we can have tea and a piece of moon cake to go with it this time?”

  “Isn’t that the cake with the hard-boiled egg in it? I think I’ll pass.” Colin grimaced.

  “I bet you’ve never tried it. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “True and true.” Colin said.

  Colin went through to make the drinks. He made Jasmine tea for Nadia, and grimaced as he and cut her a generous slice of moon cake. No way was he eating that. He made himself a coffee and determined to choose a piece of fruit out of his desk to have with it.

  Nadia looked up from the computer and grinned as Colin handed her the tea and cake while holding his coffee firmly in his other hand.

  “Let's take a break. My eyes are getting tired,” she said.

  They finished their snacks and then turned back to the screen.

  ***

  “You got a minute?” Gillian asked as she looked into Hunter’s office to speak to him before she left for the evening.

  “Just one minute, literally. I’m refereeing the Boy Scouts versus Boys Brigade Under-Fifteen football match tonight. I’ll be called all the names under the sun by the parents anyway, without being late as well!”

  “No, it’s just an interesting point. The scrapbook contains mostly pictures, magazine and newspaper cuttings. Some in English, some in German, some in Russian. I’m almost finished with them. I think the translation will just take me another day, and then I’ll get my notes typed up for you and start on the journals.”

  “Great. Thank you.”

  “Yes, but they will take longer. There are more of them, and there is more handwriting,” Gillian explained.

  “Understood. What have you found that you wanted to show me today?” Hunter asked.

  “It’s just that it seems there was a Stasi officer killed in George’s home village a few months before George arrived here. The officer’s name was Hans Merkel.”

  “Merkel, the same as the German Chancellor’s name?”

  “Exactly, she is Angela Merkel. But I don’t think there’s a connection. At least there’s not one mentioned.”

  Tim poked his head round Hunter’s door. “Boss, that’s me and Bear off to the pub. See you tomorrow.”

  “You don’t usually tell me when you are leaving, Tim.” Hunter winked at Gillian. “You go, Gillian, I’ll have a think about this and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  “I thought I heard Gillian mention the name Merkel,” Tim said. “There is a German art dealer, Max Merkel. It’s common knowledge his father was in the Stasi.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “I thought the information might help.” Tim blushed slightly.

  Gillian nodded. “The Stasi was the official state security service of the old German Democratic Republic. Hated and feared in equal measure.”

  “I have to get out of here. We’ll pick this up tomorrow. The ref cannot be late.” Hunter strode past Tim to get to the car park.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rachael couldn’t think of a time when she and Jane had had so many days off together. It was lovely. Today, they were going to stop by the hotel in Belford Road, where they had chosen to have their blessing.

  There were plenty of fancier venues than the three-star Bruce Hotel, in Belford Road, on the banks of the Water of Leith. But this hotel was within easy walking distance of one of Jane’s favourite attractions in the city: The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. Rachael had agreed to the choice because she knew Jane would like guests to be able to visit the gallery if they wanted to.

  “Janey, did you notice the hotel has been sold to a different chain?” she asked.

  “Yes. I don’t think it will really affect us, but I want to visit and see for myself.”

  “May be not, but the chain’s name is totally unpronounceable.”

  “The hotel is still called The Bruce Hotel; it’s just the company that owns it which has changed. The hotel still has the same rooms for our guests who are staying over, and the function suite for us. It will be fine!”

  “As long as the honeymoon suite is still as nice, that’s all I care about,” Rachael said.

  “We’ll check! I want to take another look at the bar and the restaurant and make sure our cake is organised.”

  “One fruit tier for you and one chocolate tier for me.”

  “Yes, my little peasant.” Jane laughed and pushed open the door to the hotel reception.

  “What cheek! But I’m glad we have time off and can do this together, Janey.”

  “And guests should get parked easily on the big day.”

  ***

  Jane and Rachael went to reception to ask for the Events Manager. They were both relieved when the same woman they had made all their arrangements with came out to greet them.

  “Hello, ladies. Jane and Rachael, isn’t it? Not long to wait now! Are you getting excited?”

  “Ooh yes,” Rachael said.

  “Your wedding planner has been in touch to finalise access and arrangements,
but would you like to see the function suite again? It has been redecorated since our takeover by Gemuetliche Erholung.”

  “So that’s how you say it. I’m glad they haven’t changed the name of the hotel,” Rachael smiled.

  “That may change, but not yet. Hang on and I’ll just get the rest of my keys.” The lady disappeared into a room behind the reception desk.

  “What are you doing, Janey?” Rachael asked.

  “Reading the guest forms on the desk,” Jane replied quietly.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a cop and I’m nosey. Look, it seems Lenny The Lizard Pratt is staying here.”

  “He must be feeling the cold today, it’s a bit brisk. Doesn’t he live in Malaga with Jamie Thomson’s mum now?”

  “Yes, that must be expensive. From comments the boss has made, I believe Janice is a bit high-maintenance. But it looks like he’s here today. Lucky us.”

  “Look at that notice-board, Janey.”

  “Goodness, the General Manager is a Heinrich Reinbold. I wonder if that is a coincidence?”

  “The boss doesn't like coincidences.”

  “Neither do I, Rache.”

  After looking around the function area and having another look at the luxurious honeymoon suite where they would spend their wedding night, Jane and Rachael joined the Events Manager for coffee in the bar and paid the balance of their bill.

  “We are going to have such a fun day, aren’t we, Rache?” Jane said, as the Events Manager went to get their receipt. “And it is forever?”

  “Of course!” Rachael reached out for Jane’s hand, but noticed she was looking towards the far side of the bar. Two men were sitting with their heads close together, whispering.

  “You might pay attention to me when I’m being romantic, Janey. Oh, is that Lenny The Lizard you’re looking at?” Rachael asked.

  “Ssssh.” Jane moved seats to sit opposite Rachael. “Make it look as if you are taking my picture, but get those men in the shot,” she whispered.

  “Well, at least smile.” Rachael took a couple of photos. She could tell that the men in the background never noticed.

  ***

  Colin was glad nobody else was around when he and Nadia jumped up and punched the air above them. He appreciated her determination to see each detail of the task through.

  “We’ve got it! Nadia, we’ve got it. I thought my eyes were going to bleed.”

  “Yep, we’ve got it. And do you see how much lower the car is sitting on its axle than it was on the way out?” Nadia pointed to the screen.

  “Well-spotted. No, I hadn’t noticed that. There must be some weight in it for that to happen to a Volvo.”

  “Still can’t see clearly who’s driving, though,” Nadia said.

  “No, but you can see the man’s jacket and tie.”

  “Didn’t Jane say one of her witnesses saw a man wearing a grey suit? The jacket is quite a light colour,” Nadia said.

  “Yes, but a grey suit in the street on a weekday morning in Edinburgh could be anybody from a doctor to a…”

  “Policeman?” Nadia joked.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The following morning, the sky was clear and blue: the temperature was slightly warmer than on previous days and the spring flowers responded by pushing out more blooms.

  Tim went for an early-morning run before he went to the station. His route from his father’s house in East Steils, Morningside, took him down the hill, through the beautiful park, Hermitage of Braid. He ran steadily, not at speed, all the way to the end of the path in Liberton and back again. His playlist, firmly tucked into his ears, protected him from having to converse with any dog-walkers or other joggers. It was especially refreshing to experience the beautiful city in Spring, and Tim treasured this time to himself.

  ***

  Hunter was already sitting at his desk when Jane knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” he growled.

  “You all right, Boss?”

  “Yes, I got punched yesterday by an irate father who was not happy with my penalty decision. I thought it was a stroke of genius, it meant honour all round in a two-all draw.”

  “I hope you bloody booked him!”

  “No, Jane, I didn’t. Anyway, what can I do for you?”

  “You know Lenny The Lizard Pratt is in town?”

  “Yes, I’d heard from Tim and Mel he’d been round with Brian Squires to put the wind up the boys at Thomson’s. We’re keeping an eye on Frankie and his girls. Jamie is still in hospital right now.”

  “Well, I know where he’s staying. The Lizard’s staying at The Bruce Hotel on Belford Road.”

  “Where you’re having your big day?”

  “Yes. That’s how we found out. Rache and I went there yesterday to finalise the arrangements, and we saw him in the bar, deep in conversation with another man. I didn’t recognise the other guy, though.”

  “Pity.”

  “So we took a picture.”

  “Good thinking.” Hunter grinned.

  “Do you know this man, Sir?” Jane handed Rachael’s phone to Hunter.

  “No, I don’t, but get that printed off, and we’ll get Nadia and Colin to add him to their list. Those two are making a good team.”

  “Oh, just one more thing, Boss. The hotel has been taken over, and a new general manager has been appointed. His name is Heinrich Reinbold.”

  ***

  Jane left the room and nearly walked into Tim as she stared at the phone. He winced.

  “You seem as precious as the boss today,” Jane said.

  “I went for a run this morning, I’ll have you know. I should make it a more regular thing: I’m not as fit as I like to think I am. I’m feeling a bit tender, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure it doesn’t have more to do with you and Bear showing off to Gillian and Mel in the Golf Tavern last night?”

  Tim smiled and shrugged. “Possibly. But, anyway, what are your eyes glued to that you didn’t notice me?”

  “I saw The Lizard yesterday and he was talking to a fellow I don’t recognise. The boss says I’ve to print the picture off for Nadia and Colin to trace him.”

  “Let me see?”

  Jane handed the phone to Tim.

  “I can save you all a bit of time. That’s Max Merkel. German art dealer. Does a lot of business in America and the Far East, as well as Europe. Very determined dealer. Ruthless. He has quite a reputation, but he gets what his clients are after. He follows the money and demand. Dad bought a most vibrant painting by Kerry James Marshall through him some years back.”

  “I’d love to see that.”

  “Remind me next time you and Rache are at the house. You’ll love it.”

  “But are you sure that’s him?”

  “Yes. See how he has a thick beard but not such a good moustache? He was attacked when he was a child and has a wide scar. He tries to grow a moustache to hide it, but it never works very well. He is sensitive about the scar, so nobody ever mentions it.”

  Jane smiled and went to break this news to Hunter, before the briefing started.

  ***

  DCI Allan Mackay banged on a desk with his folder. It brought the room to some semblance of order.

  “Are we any nearer to finding out who killed George Reinbold?” he asked loudly.

  Colin was chewing on an apple, while Nadia, Tim and Bear finished their bacon rolls. Jane sipped her camomile tea and wondered if anybody apart from herself and Rachael still ate breakfast at home.

  Hunter stood up. “I think we are making progress, Sir. Jane, can you start us off?”

  Before Jane had time to draw breath, Gillian Pearson knocked on the door and entered the incident room. She looked around the room and gestured to Hunter.

  “DI Wilson, I am very sorry to interrupt your briefing, but I have found information in George Reinbold’s scrapbooks that I believe your team should be aware of.”

  “Come in, Gillian. What’s up?” Hunter asked.

&n
bsp; “What is so significant that we must be aware of it right now?” Allan Mackay said sharply. “This is an important, confidential briefing.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, DCI Mackay, truly I am, but I have been going through the various scrap books that George Reinbold made up from newspaper cuttings. The ones found in his flat?”

  Mackay nodded. “So? They can wait.”

  “I’ve found newspaper articles from just before Mr Reinbold arrived in this country. They indicate that he was being sought by the authorities in connection with a murder.”

  “A murder? George was suspected of murder?” Hunter interjected incredulously.

  Gillian nodded. “It seems he killed a Stasi officer, Hans Merkel, then fled the country, and, I suppose, he ended up here. There are other articles that tell of the execution of George’s father and brother. He had a twin sister. She gave birth to a son, Heinrich Reinbold, about nine months after George fled. My guess would be that the child was the result of rape by the Stasi, but we’ll never prove that now.”

  “Good God!” Mackay exclaimed. “Come with me, DI Wilson. We must get to the press conference now or we will be late. We are going to keep this as short and factual as we can. A man has been murdered in his home in Gilmerton. We’ll give the date and time and ask that any member of the public who has information calls the helpline.”

  “And get every nutter in the city admitting to anything from cross-dressing in their girlfriend’s clothes to killing the dinosaurs,” Hunter said, as he followed Mackay out of the room. “Great! Tim, don’t go far. After this press conference, we’re off to The Bruce Hotel.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hunter and Tim entered The Bruce Hotel. The clean, comfortable, modern reception area made a favourable impression on the officers, who moved steadily towards the desk. An immaculately-manicured young woman looked from one to the other and settled her gaze on the tall good-looking one with the broken nose.

  “Can I help you, gentlemen?” she asked Tim.

  Hunter showed his identification and asked to speak to the manager. A nervous, balding little man appeared from the office behind the desk.

  “Brownlee, Barry Brownlee. How may I be of service to Her Majesty’s finest today?”