Hunter's Revenge

by Val Penny

  “As are you, Mr Barley. Have you managed to get something to eat?”

  “I had a bite in your eminently forgettable canteen, but I think my client and I would appreciate a cup of tea.”

  Hunter nodded to Tim and asked him to fetch two teas and two coffees for the four of them. He watched Tim leave the room quietly without a fuss. That man was so unlike his father.

  ***

  “Ms Dormer, you were born and brought up in Edinburgh?” Hunter asked.

  The woman nodded.

  “For the benefit of the tape, please?”

  “Yes. I went to The Royal High School.”

  “What did you do after school?”

  “My grandfather had a second-hand book store. I worked in there.”

  “And that is when you became acquainted with George Reinbold?”

  “That’s right. He liked to come in and rummage amongst any collections my grandfather got in. We got a lot of collections due to house clearances after people died. Mr Reinbold was very knowledgeable about books, especially German and Russian books. He only collected children’s books, though. First editions.”

  “Why was that?” Hunter prompted.

  “He said he didn’t have any family of his own, so his books were his children.”

  “How long did you work in the book store with your grandfather?”

  “Until he died. Just over five years. But I was only twenty-one and I couldn’t keep the place going, so it had to be sold.”

  “What happened to the stock?”

  “It was auctioned off at Katz and Roundall. They must have seen that I knew a bit about books, so they offered me a job. I’ve been there ever since.”

  “But not always in the Edinburgh Office?” Hunter asked.

  “No, I was sent down to London for two years to learn about paintings, antiques and classical art. They wanted me to know about more than just books.”

  “And when did you meet Mr Merkel?”

  “Max? I first met him in London. He would attend auctions on behalf of his clients.”

  “How did you and Mr Merkel get on?”

  June Dormer blushed. She lowered her eyes and began to cry.

  “I think maybe we should take a break, DI Wilson,” Andrew Barley said.

  “No, I’m all right,” the woman said quietly. “It’s just that I’ve been such a fool. When Max and I first met, I was very young. He was so knowledgeable, exciting and fun. I didn’t know many people, and London is a big city.”

  Tim nodded. “It can be very lonely.”

  “It was lonely. He was kind. He would take me to dinner, to the theatre, sometimes we would just walk. He was company. Apart from the people I worked with, he was all the company I had.”

  “You could have joined a gym, or a church, or a knitting group. You didn’t have to become the lover of one of your company’s clients,” Hunter grumbled.

  Tim looked sharply at Hunter. The young man was confused. He had not made this deductive leap. He was surprised when June Dormer went on speaking, calmly.

  “I know that now. I’m older. But we were both single. Looking back, I was naïve, but I didn’t see it that way. It was romantic. I thought it was love.”

  “Carry on,” Hunter said shortly.

  “At first, he would ask me little favours. Perhaps about details of what was coming up before the advertising announcements, so that he could give his clients the heads-up, look good to them, you know? I wanted to please him. Then, later, he wanted more than information. He would suggest ways his clients could secure items cheaply. I thought he was my friend. I was stupid and I went along with it.”

  “When did you and Max Merkel become lovers?”

  “Quite quickly, I suppose. But it didn’t last long, because I when was sent back to Edinburgh and Max wasn’t there so often. I wasn’t useful to him anymore, I suppose.”

  “Was it back in Edinburgh that you met up with George Reinbold again?”

  “Yes, I saw him at a preview of an auction for children’s books. He was very excited by some of the lots. He even remembered me. He was a lovely man, quite the gentleman.”

  “Did you tell Max?”

  “Yes. He seemed interested in Mr Reinbold. I didn’t know why. I was surprised. Mr Reinbold was just a little old man, not a major dealer. When I asked Max why he was interested, he just said that he had known George years ago and didn’t realise he was still around the antiques markets.”

  “What about your husband? Did you tell him you liked George Reinbold and had dealings with him?”

  “Yes, I did. It made him so angry. I had never seen him so furious. He said the man had brought nothing but trouble to his family, and deserved everything he had coming to him.”

  “Really? Did he say what George had coming to him?”

  “Yno, but he was livid, and said I must have nothing more to do with George Reinbold and never to mention that name in his presence. I was afraid of him that day.”

  There was a knock on the door. Colin handed the marriage certificate to Hunter.

  “You have never used your married name, Ms Dormer?”

  “No,” she said defensively. “I don’t have to.”

  “No, you do not. How long have you been married?”

  “Married? Coming up four years.”

  “How did you meet?” Hunter asked.

  “Does that matter, DI Wilson?” Andrew Barley asked.

  “I suppose not. But you have always lived in the UK, Ms Dormer?”

  “Yes. Always in Edinburgh, except for my two years in London.”

  “But your husband hasn’t, has he?”

  “No, and he still travels a lot with business. He is now in charge of the family business.”

  “I’ll bet, Ms Dormer. What kind of business is that?” Hunter asked.

  “Not very exciting: import, export.”

  “Import export of what?”

  “Herbs, spices, things you can't get here. I don’t have anything to do with that.”

  “Well, would it surprise you to know the herbs and spices were a cover for cocaine smuggling?”

  “Good Lord, no!”

  “Oh yes. And I think that, if your husband became angry because you liked George Reinbold, he would have been even less understanding when you met Mr Merkel recently in Edinburgh and resumed your relationship with him.”

  “True. But how do you know that?” She looked at the table.

  “Why else would you give Max Merkel information about George Reinbold’s book collection after my colleague brought the Winnie the Pooh book to be valued? Your husband would not have been very understanding of any of this, would he?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Did Mr Merkel know you were married?”

  “Yes. I wear my wedding ring. He didn’t care. He said he was just happy to have me back, even if it was just a part of me. Max never married. He has always been a player.”

  “But your husband would have cared that you were having an affair behind his back?”

  “Very much.”

  “When did Merkel discover your husband’s identity?”

  “Just before that poor wee girl died. I feel so guilty. I was told she wasn’t meant to be there. But she couldn’t be allowed to give it all away.”

  June burst into tears. Tim took a packet of tissues out of his pocket and handed them to her.

  “You gave Merkel information about George Reinbold’s books and his address?”

  “He knew the address. I just confirmed it. When I told him George loved his books like his children, he smiled and said something strange. He said ‘That’s how to get him, then’. Next thing I know, Max is selling his prized, signed, first edition of Winnie the Pooh on the internet and ensures that George is the purchaser. The rest you know.”

  “Just one more thing, Ms Dormer. How did your husband, Kasim Saleh, plan to supply payment to Lenny the Lizard Pratt for the hit on George Reinbold?”

  ***

  “One
more to go, Tim. It’s Andrew Barley I feel sorry for. He’s getting a bit long in the tooth for a series of interviews like this.”

  “Don’t you believe it, Hunter,” Barley said as he walked up behind them. “When did you discover June Dormer was married to Kasim Saleh? She didn’t tell me. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”

  “Then you should be getting out more,” Hunter smiled.

  “You’re probably right.” Barley laughed as he went in to meet with Lenny The Lizard Pratt.

  ***

  Tim decided to take a walk outside in the car park while Barley did his initial interview with The Lizard. He had been inside for too long today and needed some fresh air. He walked to the far side of the station car-park, stared back at the building and shivered. He should have put a jacket on.

  He couldn't stop thinking about George. He had been a quiet, studious, solitary little man, but he had collected almost as many enemies as books. Tim sighed. Poor old George: all that security, but he never stood a chance.

  He took his phone out of his pocket and phoned Bear. This time his friend answered the call.

  “Bear! What news?” Tim asked quietly.

  “I’m with Mel’s parents just now. She’s in an induced coma until they decide what to do, so I’m taking the chance to tell Mr and Mrs Grant all I know. We’re having a bite to eat too, because when Mel wakes up we all want to be there and I have no idea when that will be.”

  “Are Mel’s brothers there?” Tim asked.

  “No, they’re on a stag do in Prague. Mr and Mrs Grant have decided not to worry them at this point. I’ll keep you posted Bro. Bye Tim.”

  Tim ended the call, went back into the station and leapt up the stairs two at a time to find Hunter.

  “Mel’s in an induced coma.”

  “God’s sake! Her parents must hate me.”

  “I doubt you’ve crossed their radar, Sir. They are far too worried about Mel.”

  “You’re probably right, for the moment. But I will if this goes any more wrong. Now, are you ready for this, young Myerscough?” Hunter asked.

  “Yes, Boss. Let’s get it done!”

  ***

  Tim opened the door to the interview room for his boss and Hunter walked in. Tim closed the door behind them.

  “Lenny, what a mess you’ve got yourself into this time. Ian Thomson told us you are a gun for hire, but a rotten shot. Bad combination. Is he right? How is the lovely Janice, by the way?” Hunter asked as he and Tim sat down.

  “She is lovely, but my Gawd! That woman can spend money. Nine grand for a designer handbag. No wonder Ian Thomson was out robbing banks when he had to fund her lifestyle.”

  “And how do you fund it?” Hunter asked.

  Andrew Barley nudged his client and advised him not to speak except in answer to questions, as they had discussed.

  Hunter began the formal interview.

  “Lenny, how long have you known Arjun Mansoor and Kasim Saleh?”

  “Arjun, about two or three years. He was minding Ian’s place, Thomson’s Top Cars, while Ian was in the big house. He ran the business there. Janice took up with me and we moved to Spain. It’s lovely there.”

  “No doubt. Now, it wasn’t just the car business Mansoor was interested in, was it? He made far more money importing cocaine. Did his brother-in-law help him?”

  “Yes, he did a bit of importing business too, but from the other end, I understand. I don’t know if Kasim was involved back then. I met Kasim after Arjun was put away. He took over the whole business while Arjun was inside. Arjun was furious about getting caught. Blamed George Reinbold and his CSI team, mainly. Said you lot couldn’t get pissed in a brewery.”

  “And Arjun Mansoor wanted to get his own back on George Reinbold. So he asked you to sort him out.”

  “I never said that, DI Wilson, I was in Edinburgh to tend to my poor sick mother. She sadly died. You know that. You respectfully attended her funeral. Thank you for that. Wonderful woman, my mother.”

  “Shut up, Lizard. You’re making me sick. You were here to do Arjun’s bidding and kill George. You needed the payment to keep the lovely Janice in the style to which she insisted on being accustomed. Finding your mother ill was just a useful bonus.”

  “But I didn’t kill anybody, did I? So payment for what? My poor mother died in hospital. Her heart it was.”

  “Indeed? How interesting. We were told it was an aneurysm.”

  “Interesting and true.”

  “What payment?” Tim sat straight in surprise and stared at The Lizard. He realised what Hunter was trying to get at.

  “Okay, let’s pretend I accept that. How long have you known Heinrich Reinbold?” Hunter asked.

  “I don’t really know him that well. But he works for the chain of hotels I use most often. I have a platinum card, so I always get treated like royalty.”

  “Very nice for you,” Hunter said sourly.

  “I have witnessed Heinrich Reinbold climb the company’s promotion ladder. He’s a very accommodating fellow. When I found him in the Edinburgh hotel, it jogged my memory. It was the same last name Arjun Mansoor had mentioned, and I asked if Heinrich was any relation to George Reinbold. He said George was his estranged uncle. He had no time for him.”

  “Moving on. How long have you known Max Merkel?”

  “We met at the hotel. We were guests there and occasionally would have a drink together. Often there was nobody else in the bar.”

  “But sometimes there was: you were seen in the bar with Max Merkel and Donald Blair.”

  “There was something going on. A wedding or the like. The three of us were about the only ones not invited. We felt a bit like gooseberries. Still, someone put money behind the bar and we managed to get a free dram or two.”

  A low growl came from Tim.“Coincidence you and Merkel being in the same hotel. There are so many hotels to choose from in Edinburgh.”

  “But it was a coincidence. I always stay in that chain when I can. It gets me points. Merkel is something to do with art and wanted to be near the Gallery of Modern Art. It’s just down the road.”

  “Indeed. Well, where did you keep your gun, Lizard? Was it in your mother’s house? Perhaps that’s why you went over to see her so promptly.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Andrew Barley asked.

  “What nonsense is this?” The Lizard demanded.

  “Oh come on, man!” Tim sounded exasperated. “We found a .38 pistol when we went through your luggage today. It was in pieces, but it is the same type of gun that shot George and it has been professionally cleaned, but soon I will know if it is the same gun.”

  “Why were you so anxious to get your hands on that old Volvo?” Hunter asked.

  “I was not!”

  “I think you were.” Tim said. “In fact, you told Jamie Thomson that it was your car.”

  “Yes,” Hunter added. “You wanted it so badly that you got Squires to break Jamie Thomson’s arm to try to get him to tell you where the car was. But it was gone because Merkel had taken it, and Jenny, from Thomson’s Top Cars.”

  “This is rubbish!” The Lizard squealed.

  “Sorry, Lizard, it’s the truth,” Hunter said. You were to get the cocaine out of the boot. Weren’t you? That was your payment for shooting George, wasn’t it? How did Jenny end up dead too? Why did you need Merkel to collect the Volvo anyway?”

  “Heinrich Reinbold was already set up to cause a diversion for you. He asked to test-drive the Bentley from the showroom,” Tim added.

  “And how did Merkel get the gun to arrange to have it cleaned, if you didn’t give it to him? I need answers, Lenny. Or you are going down for the lot,” Hunter growled.

  Lenny looked at Andrew Barley.

  “I think my client and I may need a few minutes of privacy, DI Wilson. Give us half an hour. And a cup of tea?”

  Hunter suspended the interview. He and Tim went back up to the incident room, to find Colin and Nadia tucking into a takeaway delivered by
Nadia’s uncle Fred.

  Colin nudged containers over to Hunter and Tim. “Dive in,” he said.

  “I will.” Tim smiled at Nadia. “Uncle Fred doesn’t know the meaning of nouvelle cuisine. He’s my kind of man.”

  ***

  When Hunter and Tim reconvened the interview, Andrew Barley had stopped smiling. They noticed he was suddenly looking his age and rather drawn.

  “My client has asked me to read a statement. It confirms all he knows about the unfortunate deaths.”

  “Murders, and drug trafficking,” interjected Hunter.

  “He was not involved with any drug trafficking. Indeed, if he had any intention of illegality with cocaine, that intention was thwarted. You cannot charge him with hoping to commit a crime, DI Wilson. Anyway, Mr Pratt would like to request that, in light of his co-operation, he might receive leniency in any charges made against him.”

  “Let me see what he’s got,” Hunter said. “Then, if I believe him, I’ll think about it.”

  I, Leonard Pratt, residing in Malaga, Spain, was contacted by Kasim Saleh on behalf of Arjun Mansoor, with a view to terminating the life of George Reinbold. I arrived in Edinburgh and went to my mother’s home where I still kept some personal items, including an unregistered .38 pistol for my personal security. I found my mother seriously ill and had to take her to hospital. She later died in the Western General Hospital. I did not want to stay in my mother’s home so I booked into The Bruce Hotel. I always stay in Gemuetliche Erholung hotels when I can.

  I discovered the general manager of The Bruce Hotel was a member of staff whom I knew from previous visits to Gemuetliche Erholung hotels in Europe. His name was Heinrich Reinbold. I asked if he was any relation to a George Reinbold living in Edinburgh. It transpired that he was my target’s nephew, but they were estranged.

  The nephew agreed to assist me by making a distraction so that the blue Volvo car which had my payment in the boot could be taken from the garage area of Thomson's Top Cars to a place where I could retrieve it. To do this, he agreed to take an expensive car for a test drive at the same time as the Volvo was removed from Thomson’s Top Cars, as this would distract the staff. He chose to drive a Bentley.

  Heinrich deduced my business might have something to do with his uncle, because of the questions I had asked him. But he did not ask what my interest in his uncle was.