by Alec Peche
They gathered around Angela as she looked at the screen of her camera toggling through her recent pictures. She had several good headshots of the couple for them to use later in identification.
“Great pictures Angela, but I still say your comment about the outfit was funny. In fact, it would have been funny if any of us had said it as it’s so not us as a group to care about that,” Jo said.
“Yeah, I guess I felt silly when I said it, but it was the first thing that popped into my mind. Since we’ve arrived back at the hotel, shall we all meet in the bar in say ten minutes?”
With nods of agreement, they rode the elevator to their floors and soon found themselves settled in the bar. After a debate about mixing whiskey with the wine from their meal, they decided to risk their heads, and each made a whiskey selection.
Jill uploaded the couple’s pictures from Angela’s camera, and they all got a look at them on a bigger screen.
“You got several good pictures, Angela!” Jill said. “What about their accents? Any guess as to where they’re from?”
“The four words the woman said were not enough for me to guess,” Nathan said, and there were nods from the others in agreement. “I would have guessed German, but I get that mixed up with Danish and Dutch.”
“I agree with Nathan that it sounded Germanic, but it could have been one of those other languages, or maybe Swedish or Norwegian,” Angela said. “I think we are so far from knowing that it’s pointless to guess.”
“Okay, let’s search for faces and try to figure out what this couple has in common with Operation Gladio,” Jill said. “I suppose they could have been just your average pickpocket thieves, but why would they follow us on the train here and why go after a group as large as us? It’s easier to mug a lone person. So I think they have to be connected to the Operation.”
She’d been typing as she talked and soon they were watching the hourglass spin as the computer went to work matching the pictures. Knowing it would take some time they worked on their plan for the next day.
“We could rent a car and explore the distilleries around here,” Angela suggested. “Or maybe check out the train schedule since we wouldn’t need a designated driver. We would see more of the countryside of Scotland which I would love to do.”
“If we had time to travel, I would say let’s go to the Island of Islay,” Marie said. “I’m a Scottish landowner there, and I’d love to visit my square foot of land.”
“Really! You never told me you owned land there!” Angela said.
“Would we all fit on your square foot?” Jo asked.
“Let’s check the plane schedule maybe we could fly?” Nathan said. “Where exactly is this island?”
“I checked it out before we left and it’s about 200 miles away as the bird flies, but it’s a seven-hour drive through the countryside. I didn’t check the air routes.”
Nathan had been researching the island while they talked and said, “We could book roundtrip air for under two hundred dollars leaving Glasgow at 8:30 and arrive in Islay at 9:15 and leave at five pm. Your distillery, Marie is about six miles away, and it looks like we could hit four or five there. Shall I book us flights?”
The group looked at each other then smiled and held their whiskeys up for a toast, while Jo said, “Nathan, book our flights!”
“Imagine how safe we’ll be there!’ Angela said. “It’s too remote for them, and if they aren’t on our flight, then they will have to charter a plane to catch up.”
Nathan added, “They have bike tours, but I think we lack the time to do that, so I’ll rent a car for us.”
“What else can you do on the Island,” Marie asked.
“If you were into birds, it’s paradise. There’s a golf course and an American Monument to a ships sunk in World War I. I don’t think we have the time to do that. I think we should plan on touring the four distilleries, eat lunch at one of their stops, and explore the two cities of Bowman and Port Ellen.”
“You make a great tour guide,” Jo said. “That’s plenty of action, and we’ll have to find a way to Glasgow in the early morning and back in the evening.”
“We also have to stand on Marie’s land,” Jill said. “Do you know how to find it?”
“Yes, they sent me a Google Earth view of the foot, and their website says they’ll provide a jacket and wellingtons so I can reach my land.”
“What an adventure!” Jo lifted her glass again and said, “To Nathan for providing us a well-timed escape in the middle of another interesting vacation.”
Then they heard Jill’s computer beep that the search was finished and they turned and gathered around the screen.
Chapter 20
The couple walked away from the five Americans saying little. Once they were two blocks away and assured they couldn’t be heard by anyone, they spoke in a language other than English.
“In my years of doing recovery work, that was the strangest interaction with someone I’ve been following,” the man said.
“I wonder why they wanted our picture since I’m sure they got it?” the woman questioned.
“Normally I would say they took the picture so they could identify us, but they’re tourists; how would they have access to any databases that have our information in them?”
“True, but the one woman is listed as a private investigator in the United States, so she probably knows something about how to identify us.”
“Yes, but our cover is solid, so even if she identifies us German citizens, she won’t have much more than that since we’re schoolteachers from Berlin.”
“Didn’t you say that one of the group was a photographer? Was she the one that took our picture? What do we know about the man in that group?”
“He just appeared in Edinburgh and judging from his body language, he’s connected to the woman that’s the private investigator,” the man said.
“Let’s identify him when we get back to our hotel. I wonder how they know Nick? They seem so American.”
“Nick said he was meeting some friends in Wales and we just assumed they were Dutch friends, but maybe it was these Americans. Certainly, someone brought them into this situation. I wish we hadn’t missed those first few hours after his death; then this whole situation might make more sense.”
“He suspected that someone from his group was following him; he was fearful that there were agents unhappy with dissolving the group which he was the most vocal supporter of dissolution.”
“What do we want from these Americans?” the man asked. “Do we think that Nick passed on information to them before his death?”
"I don't know; after all, we don't even know what stolen item he came across. All we know was he wanted to meet us shortly after someone shoved him out a castle window, and it was expected to be a short meeting - he said ten minutes."
Chapter 21
“Hmmm,” Jill said.
Angela read aloud, “Michael Schmidt and Nicole Becker, country of residence, Germany. Occupation on their passports is listed as school teachers. Why would two German teachers follow four Americans or a Frenchman or Italian from Operation Gladio?”
“That’s the twenty-five thousand dollar question,” remarked Marie.
“We’ll have to review our materials on Operation Gladio. I don’t remember any German influence,” Jo said.
“Me either,” Marie said.
“Ladies, I’m still jet-lagged,” Nathan said standing up. “I’m going to go upstairs and finish arrangements for tomorrow and hit the sack. I’ll send you a text for our departure time from this hotel in the morning, and you can set your alarms accordingly.”
They went back to exploring a connection between Germany and Operation Gladio. They received a message from Nathan that he rented a car for tomorrow and based on the internet they should plan on leaving the hotel at 6:30 in the morning.
“I hate 6:30 departures on vacation, but I’m not surprised since the plane leaves at 8:30. At least we don’t have to go throu
gh immigration and customs on this short flight.”
An hour later, Marie landed on a site that hinted that one of the duties of a stay-behind army like Operation Gladio was the successful search for loot that the Nazi’s stole from the citizens of the countries they invaded.
“I wonder if they had any success is locating stolen property?” Jo asked after Marie explained the connection she’d just found. “Maybe any recovered loot went to finance their continued operation as it’s not clear where their funding came from in recent times.”
“I don’t know, this article is the only one that has made reference to a connection to the hunt for Nazi stolen goods, maybe it’s a rumor,” Marie acknowledged.
“If only Nick was alive to tell us,” Jo lamented.
“Think back to our conversation with him, did he ever sound like he was hunting for or had found a treasure?” Jill Said.
There was silence as they contemplated their conversations with their deceased friend. Jo shook her head first, then Marie followed with, “I don’t ever recall him saying anything about searching for gold or being a detective.”
“Me, either,” acknowledged Jill.
“Perhaps Nick discovered some connection to the rumored gold location,” Angela said.
“But why would people be after us?” Jill asked. “Does someone think he shared that information with us or passed it to us in code, or there was something on his person at the time of his death or during his autopsy that would have pointed us to that fact?”
“Maybe we should ask the police in Cardiff for a copy of the contents in his pockets or his cellphone,” Marie suggested.
“The police wouldn’t give us his personal effects as we have no legal right to them,” Jill said.
“What if we tell the police that we’re taking responsibility for his funeral as they and we have been unable to locate any living relatives; do you think they would turn over the contents to us along with his remains?” Angela asked.
“Perhaps, since I assume they matched Nick’s killer to the man in the custody of Edinburgh’s police,” Jill speculated. “Let me give it a try. I’ll email the detector inspectors now with our plans for Nick’s remains and see if we can get those personal effects. I’ll have to coordinate with Henrik as I would assume he’ll have to make arrangements for the pick-up and storage of Nick until we return in a few weeks on his jet to Germany for a proper funeral. I could walk Henrik’s representative through the personal contents and get the stuff delivered to us by the time we return from Islay Island tomorrow. We only have another two days together to solve this case. Nathan and I are staying on two days beyond your departure, but I don’t think the answers lie in Scotland; they’re likely back at wherever Operation Gladio’s headquarters are.”
“Sounds like a plan, I’ll work on getting Henrik’s representative moving on this now, Jill you handle the communication with the Welsh detectives and then we sleep on it overnight, have fun in Islay in the morning and hopefully have new material delivered to us tomorrow,” Marie said.
Chapter 22
The next morning they were in the boarding area of the Glasgow airport waiting to board their plane. Henrik’s representative was in Cardiff and by the time they landed at Islay, he expected to have the personal effects of Nick, and they would go over them via video conference so that he would know what to have delivered to Jill and company later that day. She briefly debated just having him send everything, but she’d have a hard time believing he would have something secret sewn into his underwear. Certainly, they wanted all of Nick's electronic possessions. Perhaps the hospital or pathologist routinely disposed of clothing cut off someone after their death; they would wait and see.
Jill, Angela, Nathan, and Marie were on the outlook for someone following them to the airport and on to the boarding gate, but so far they hadn’t seen anyone suspicious including the German couple from the previous night. Once they got to the island, it would be hard to hide in the limited population there.
After landing on the island, they looked around again at the people and found no one to be concerned with and were soon in a rental car heading for the first of five distilleries. Nathan was their designated driver; he planned to taste and then spit all whiskey samples, that way he could explore the flavors without being impacted by the alcohol content. They also would have a big lunch in Bowman, the largest city on the island. Anyone following them would have to charter a plane to land after them, and by then they'd hopefully be at their first distillery miles from the airport. They went first to the distillery where Marie owned her one square foot plot of land. As it was still early in the morning to be drinking whiskey, they got directions on where to hike to find her plot.
It was rough going in patches with uneven ground, moist boggy soil, and a few limestone rocks were thrown in for good measure. The view was spectacular with a craggy coast, and they tried to see both Ireland, about twenty-five miles away, and another Scottish island about the same distance. Winds were known to blow up to one-hundred and fifteen miles per hour in the winter, but fortunately, it was only blowing a mild wind as they stood close to the coast. The wind played havoc with their hair, so they quickly admired the view before taking various poses around Marie’s plot of land before heading back. Once back at the distillery, the five of them looked into all of them acquiring their square foot of land adjacent to each other. They’d feel much more like landowners if they shared a total of five square feet. Finally, they started their tour viewing a warehouse with aging oak casks of whiskey.
Their tour guide used a corkscrew type of device to remove the cork from the barrel. He then used a metal thing that looked like a syringe from a 1920s Norman Rockwell painting to remove a sample of the spirit. He poured the sample into a glass and Jill was amazed at how similar this experience was to that of a winery as they reviewed the sample for clarity, aroma, and taste. He pronounced that the whiskey was ready for bottling. Nathan and Jill peppered the guide with questions given that this was a sister industry to their own of operating a winery or doing the wine labels and marketing pieces like Nathan did.
From this distillery, they moved on to the town of Port Ellen where they had a fantastic meal at a local hotel. They ordered two soups - a harvest festival consisting of soup made from local vegetables and Cullen skink, sort of a fish stew, but more flavorful than American chowder. They chose a variety of main courses like fish and chips where the Haddock was sourced from local fisherman. Their desserts were diverse ranging from a lemon tart to Jill’s favorite Crème Brûlée, and Jo’s favorite, Sticky Toffee Pudding.
“Between that huge lunch and the whiskey, I could take a nap now,” Jo said and then added with a grin. “We could inquire as to whether they rent rooms by the hour.”
“With that question, we would live up to our reputations as Americans. I’m not sure reception would believe we’re not planning a fivesome!” Jill said wrinkling her nose.
“I second that,” said Marie stifling a yawn.
“I’m ready to move on to additional distilleries,” Angela said. “I’m so glad that we agreed to spend the day visiting Marie’s land. I love this island, and I’ve enjoyed visiting the smaller distilleries here. I mean they’re small in comparison to say Glen Livet or Dewar’s. It’s rather like visiting a Wisconsin winery in comparison to Napa Valley. They make great wine, but the weather limits the types of grapes. Here I think it’s just the remoteness of the island.”
“I’m with Angela,” Nathan said. “I love visiting these distilleries. Ladies, forget the hourly bed rental and let’s get going, the slugs can stay in the car at the next distillery and take a nap.”
It was rare that Nathan pushed them to anywhere, but visiting the distilleries had given him a charge like he’d imbibed large mugs of coffee rather than small shot glasses of whiskey. The four women just gave him an indulgent smile and followed him to their car.
Four distilleries later, they each had a set or more of whiskey glasses and whate
ver other stuff they’d bought at each gift shop. By the third distillery, they’d taken to Nathan’s practice of spitting out, rather than swallowing the whiskey. It was the only way to stay sober enough to employ their senses discovering the subtle flavors of the spirit.
As they were closing upon the dinner hour, they found themselves back at the Islay island airport ready to head back to Glasgow where they planned to grab dinner before returning to Edinburgh. Nathan smiled as Marie and Jo drifted into sleep immediately after take-off. Jill and Angela were never able to sleep on a plane as both were too uncomfortable; one too tall and the other too short for the headrest.
Hours later they found themselves back at the hotel where a package awaited them from Cardiff. Henrik’s assistant had collected the belongings including his clothing that he wore at the time of his fall. They all agreed to let the assistant meticulously examine the clothing for hidden pockets or writings or anything unusual on the clothing that could turn into a clue. They knew the Cardiff crime scene staff had already performed such a search and so they expected nothing. Apparently, the final search had yielded nothing, so the package contained a cell phone, wallet, car keys, gum, and a few loose pieces of paper. Nick’s body was on its way to a mortuary near Henrik’s home, and they would have a memorial service for him the following month when they returned for the long weekend to help Henrik with his newly acquired vineyard.
Jill had looked through the envelope at the reception desk with the others standing around her. She glanced up and asked, “Should we go to the bar and examine these items or one of our rooms?”
“Our rooms are small, and we’ve had sufficient privacy and internet access in the bar,” Angela replied. “Besides after that dinner, I might have another whiskey! You know, when in Scotland, try lots of whiskeys.”