There were cliques of young men who were keen on claiming the modest reward being offered from the police for information leading to Karl’s recapture. Other militant bands of anti-Nazi persuasion wanted him to answer for many fallen relatives from the village. The women seemed to be much more homogeneous as a group. They did want him returned to the camp and onward to Germany, but were intent on preventing what they considered to be yet another pointless death.
The German surrender had been officially accepted and these women wanted the killing to stop. Unknown to any villagers, or Home Guard officials, there was a stranger making notes about the search. His real purpose was to interrogate Karl, and all of the other airmen in the camp, before they were deported.
The terrain between High Spen and Greenside was conducive to a fugitive remaining undetected. Apart from the main road between these two villages actually bordering on the front entrance of the camp, there were rolling hills, two meandering rivers which would ultimately unite, and expanses of open woodland. All of these features could prove helpful to Karl. Added to this was the swathe of dense forest named Chopwell Woods. If he’d already made it to this refuge, even air searches would have trouble spotting him.
His greatest difficulty could however come in the form of not being found. He needed sustenance. Water wasn’t a concern as there was always access to rivers within a few miles, but food was difficult to come by even if you weren’t on the run.
Cultivated supplies in allotments were jealously guarded against local thieves, including unsavoury neighbours. There had been instances of shooting at such looters. Also, there was the risk that successful stealing could give away his approximate location.
Wild berries were scarce and protein was in short supply. He had to somehow wait out the initial, highly-fuelled search, counting on apathy creeping into the equation. He knew that there had been little interest in the surrounding villages toward the camp and its inhabitants, and he made this the cornerstone of his strategy.
He got by with wild mushrooms and tubers. Once he felt the intensity of the search was finally on the wane, he would cross open land to another village at night, hoping to appropriate supplies from a farm or allotment complex, and then make a run for it until daylight became bedtime.
He was however, about to find another unexpected and somewhat serendipitous solution. Despite this, there was a also a group of people which nobody had considered, who were intensely interested in his recapture – the airmen back at the camp.
*
Bella had expected trouble, but not so soon.
“Mrs Henderson, tell us everything you can remember about this disc your grandson took from the fugitive. Please take your time, because you may be facing a charge of fraternisation.” The police sergeant from Blaydon had a reputation as a stickler in adherence to procedure.
“I beg your pardon,” shouted Bella, “I haven’t come here willingly to be lectured by the likes of you. This has already been explained to the Home Guard. Mr Proudfoot was informed that Harry kicked his ball accidently over the fence, and the ‘displaced persons’ as you stupidly refer to them, thought he’d given it to them. They just loaned him the disc as a way of saying thanks, and it was given back two days later.
“I told Mr Proudfoot that they could keep the ball, as it was very old, and I bought Harry a new one. I threw the disc back to one of the airmen, and that was after the other one went missing. So, how can you say this is fraternisation? You people should have better things to do with your time. Would you like to hear how much free time I have? None! Now I want Proudfoot to come here at once, to see what he has to say about this.”
Proudfoot was indeed summoned while Bella waited outside the tent. He arrived, a little out of breath. As he was about to pass her, not knowing why he had been called back from the search, she stopped him and whispered in his ear.
“I haven’t told this over-officious sergeant that you told me it was best if nobody else knew about our previous conversation. And, my friend Polly can verify this. I expect nothing has changed, it wouldn’t seem right to get you into trouble over a storm in a tea cup.”
Proudfoot walked slowly into the tent and re-emerged less than two minutes later, nodding toward the tent, but saying nothing. She went in and was asked to sit.
“I apologise, Madam, there has been a misunderstanding, which Mr Proudfoot has cleared up. I’m inclined to dismiss the incident, as I’m satisfied there was no real contact. Are you able to remember any details from the disc while your grandson had it in his possession? Anything at all?”
“Well, well, it’s Madam now is it? I can’t really be sure, but I think he made a drawing of it. If it’s accurate, I can let you see it, and then you can make your own copy. It was a galvanised metal finish with numbers and letters pressed into it. I feel sure that Harry would have copied these carefully because he was fascinated with it.”
“That would be very helpful Mrs Henderson, as soon as it is convenient please.”
Bella wanted to strike while she had them on the defensive and she trudged back home to collect Harry from his friend’s house. When she told him why he had to leave, there was the anticipated refusal from Harry.
“I gave the disc back to them and it’s not fair if they want my drawings. Anyway, I never got my present from the men.”
She jumped at the chance to leverage the bit about drawings – plural.
“Now, Harry, it’s the police who want the drawing, not the men. Did you say there’s more than one sketch?”
“Yes, but Grandma, what about my present?”
“The men have to go home soon and because of this Karl running away, we aren’t allowed to talk to the other men any more. If we don’t do what the police say, we might go to prison.”
“You mean like the camp which the men are in? Oh, can we do that? Please, Grandma.”
“No, it won’t be the camp, darling, it will be a nasty, dirty dark room with nobody else in it but the two of us. There are rats in there as well. If we give one of your drawings to the police and keep the rest we might get the reward for helping to find Karl. What do you think?”
“Ok,” groaned Harry wearily, still angling for a present, which he thought would be much better than a reward.
“Grandma, can we really help to find Karl? He would be pleased if we were friends again, and he would buy me a present.”
“All right, we will help for an hour tomorrow morning, now, can we get the drawing, it will soon be dark.”
After retrieving the drawing they hurried back to the tent and Bella breathlessly handed it to the sergeant, who was now sitting next to the unknown stranger. The one who was apparently officially assisting with the search. His accreditation had been verified by a high-ranking politician from London. When he’d studied the sketch he put a question directly to Harry. Bella tried to intervene but was silenced.
“Hello Harry, this is a super drawing, and it’s very helpful that we can keep it. Tell me, are you absolutely sure about the number at the top and the upside-down one at the bottom? Think carefully, because it’s very important.”
“Yes, sir, it’s two hundred and seventy-seven. I asked my granddad why it was a big number and he told me.”
“Really, what did he say?”
“That it might be when he was born, his number was like mine, and granddad said I was born on the eighteenth of August so that is 188, and Karl would have been born a long time ago, on the twenty-seventh of July. So his number was 277.”
The interrogator’s face lit up.
“I see, and his name was Karl, was it? Well that is helpful, the other men wouldn’t tell us that, and of course that means we can’t shout out his name when we’re looking for him if we don’t know it, so how would he know we are trying to find him? Anyway, even if your granddad was wrong in thinking that it represents Karl’s birthday, you are really, really sure about the number two-seven-seven?”
“Yes, sir, I’m not a stupid boy. I
traced it from the disc with greaseproof paper, and my granddad helped me.”
The discussion was ended amicably and the stranger was about to leave the tent, when Harry stopped him in his tracks, by revealing something Bella had kept to herself.
“Anyway, Mister, you can get the disc from the other man.”
Bella’s eyes rolled and the stranger turned around.
“Which other man, Harry?”
“I can’t say his name properly, you say it, Grandma.”
Bella responded nervously.
“I can’t remember which of the airmen said he would keep it for Karl. We didn’t know all the names, by any means, just a minute…. it could have been Gunther, yes that sounds familiar, Gunther. Haven’t you asked them about it?”
“Of course, but they said it was missing. Thank you for your assistance, you may go.”
Bella was unhappy that this had been forced out of her but she couldn’t implicate the family any further, and anyway, what did Gunther have to hide, especially as he said they were worried about Karl?
*
Chopwell Woods
The scene resembled a freeze-frame when they spotted one another at almost exactly the same time. Karl’s instinct was to run, but it was the fishing rod which checked his impulse. Michael, on the other hand, instantly recognised the uniform, and had heard all the circulating rumours. Being a target of abuse and persecution himself, he felt some empathy with the fox rather than the hounds.
This section of the twisting river Derwent, was at the bottom of a steep gorge in the forest and was not easily accessed, which was why both men had chosen it. Michael wanted to fish for his lunch but couldn’t afford a permit, and Karl simply wanted to be near drinking water but out of sight. He’d found a recess in the side of the gorge which was surrounded by a thicket.
Michael was known as a vagabond by the inhabitants of three villages – High Spen, Greenside and Chopwell. And just like Karl, he slept rough in multiple locations. He beckoned the young German officer to advance, holding up a trout he’d landed earlier. Despite the prospect of sharing a hot lunch, Karl was cautious. Michael put down the rod and walked slowly toward him, smiling and pointing upstream. They finally came close enough to speak, yet the gestures continued.
Michael mimed sitting around a camp fire, rubbing his hands together and then holding them out to take in the warmth of the imaginary burning logs, then pulling something from the fire, and finally blowing on it before eating it and discarding the bone. At last Karl smiled.
They wandered through several dense clumps of trees before they were confronted with a vertical fissure in the solid rock wall of the gorge. At first it seemed impossibly narrow for either of them to enter, but Michael pulled up a cleverly camouflaged trap door. He got on to his knees and crawled under the split in the rock, through an excavated tunnel. Karl handed the rod though the aperture and then followed. Michael pulled the trapdoor back into place with the attached rope and secured the coil by rolling a mighty boulder over it.
The cavern was much bigger than Karl could have imagined, roughly conical in shape, and as it thinned toward the top, daylight poured in from somewhere. Wondering exactly where the light was coming from, Karl’s eyes gradually adjusted to the poor illumination as he scanned the roof again, and he saw the spiralling cavity worming its way to the left hand side near the top of the gorge. Some of the angled sunshine reflected the colours of an array of exposed minerals. He’d temporarily forgotten just how cold he was. The tiny primus stove was already throwing out a bit of warmth, which felt like a lot to Karl. A crusty smile on Michael’s old face was accompanied by the smell of burning fish.
Chapter 10
Newcastle C.I.D.
When Moss returned to his office all was quiet. Only Charles Stone had spoken in his absence, and even his verbosity had stalled. Moss rudely dropped the case file into Stone’s lap.
“It’s all yours. Now, if you can excuse us, we have other cases to progress. I’m sure you’ll have questions when you’ve read the file, but I’d be grateful if you respect our hierarchical command in the same way you have stated we acknowledge yours.
“You will address all queries through me, no one else. If you don’t, it will be reported. For the time being, we can offer you an empty office on the top floor, with a nice view of the city traffic. By the way, if you don’t mind slumming it for a few days, we have a decent canteen on the ground floor.” In other words, ‘get your own drinks, we may have to cooperate but we aren’t your servants’.
Stone and Wentworth stood up, the latter feigning politeness, while Stone was about to protest. She finally spoke.
“Come along Charles, let’s acquaint ourselves with the facts in the file before making judgements. You’ll hear from us as soon as we’ve compiled a list of questions pertaining to the case, Superintendent Moss. I’d like to begin in the canteen Charles, it’s not a good idea to analyse the evidence on an empty stomach.”
They made their way through the crowded open office to the elevator without looking back. Having taken sustenance, they ascended to their ‘office’. The top floor was empty but for a couple of painters’ wallpaper pasting tables with trestles, and several emulsion cans, containing inches of solidified paint, which were scattered about the filthy floor. They looked at one another just as a junior officer arrived with two metal-backed chairs.
Back in the office, Black was unable to digest the probable fallout of the last half hour. Equally strange was Moss’s confrontational attitude. Black could wait no longer.
“How did this happen?”
“Obvious, surely,” said Moss, “if this Sophie Redwood has tried to contact you, then someone has leaked details to the press. I haven’t even discussed this case with my boss, simply because I was going to suggest to you that we should hand it over to the cold case squad. After all, it seems as if it was probably an accidental death which happened a long time ago.
“There are many people who could have leaked the actual incident, but most of such individuals would only have been angling for a bung, a payday for a gruesome story. For this to culminate in dragging in the intelligence squads, somewhere along the line the detail must have reached the ears of a conduit to Westminster. What do you think?”
“What do I think? Well first of all, you obviously aren’t up to date with some of our latest information, which may rule out accidental death. Surely you haven’t decided to ignore Frank Reichert’s letter which is still unsigned, sir? The skeleton is likely to have been a German airman, so why was he buried under a huge concrete slab when he should have been back in the Fatherland? There’s also a ring which Constance Carr washed out of the hessian and fabric debris, and I haven’t had time to actually log it in as evidence or update you on this find. But possibly most important of all, she has also indicated that there is evidence of trauma to the cervical vertebrae which indicates that we do have a suspicious death.
“I can’t comment on the source of the leak, sir, but I still need an answer to my question – how did this happen, why do we deserve the attention of both MI5 and MI6? This mysterious person you believe has access to Westminster must know something we don’t. I personally don’t care who it is, but I do care about why they are trying to silence us.”
“Inspector Black, you aren’t thinking straight. You clearly have ambitions to become D.C.I. as soon as you can, and so far you’re on track. The brownie points on offer in the current climate, I’m truly dismayed to say, are all up for grabs in the crackdown on this new drug, Ecstasy, and related organised crime. Piddling about with the remains of an unknown foreigner, and a German to boot, who died forty years ago, is not exactly high currency. And that’s a fact, even if he was bumped off.
“If it turns out to be an accident it will be considered as poor use of resource and even poorer judgement to have authorised it. I’m heading for retirement, and although I was sceptical about your methodology when you came here, I have become somewhat of a
convert. Also, I have nothing to lose by being pensioned off early, whereas your career is just beginning. That’s why I took these two bureaucrats head-on earlier. You should leave this with me.”
“I’m not comfortable with that, sir, first and foremost I’m a detective, not a damned ladder-climber. If further promotion comes that would be great, but I don’t want to spend my best years arsing about with political hot potatoes. Something stinks here and I want to stay on the case, even if it means working with Laurel and Hardy from London.”
“I fear I’ve misjudged you again Black. If that’s really what you want, I’ll have to transfer the Ecstasy related stuff to D.I. Horton. I do admire your stance, but you need to think this through.” Moss was rather pleased that he’d misread Black’s career motives. He had never seen him as a moral crusader.
“I don’t need to think about it. Give Horton the nod, if that keeps me on the Derwenthaugh case. Don’t you feel it, sir? It makes no difference whether the skeleton was that of a German or an Eskimo, he and any living relatives deserve justice, if we can prove he was murdered.”
“I’ll go along with you for now, but we’ll have to work together on this. I’ll continue to be as obstructive as possible, and you can fake cooperation with Stone and Wentworth. I had the case file copied, and it’s in a safe place just in case any evidence from the original file goes missing. Now, about this ring, if it hasn’t been logged yet, make sure it stays that way for now, after all we’ve been told we aren’t running this investigation, effective as from half an hour ago. So, we’re just doing our job.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Well then, get moving, you’d better get Frank Reichert to send this letter himself. The spooks can’t ask us to prevent a private citizen corresponding with a foreign organisation about something he believes may be connected to his family. He’ll have to change the thrust of his enquiry, asking about his father’s disc in the first letter. Then we can judge how the old enemy views digging into the past. We may have to lean on the fact that PC Reichert is only supporting her father in this private matter, at least for now. Once he has actually sent the first letter ‘without our knowledge’ we should meet with him again.”