by Janet Pywell
‘I believe they’re in the library.’
‘Would you like to show me the way? Julie, we’ll leave you here to liaise with these police officers.’
He nods at the men already climbing out of the van, and Inspector Niven follows us, appearing quite happy to leave everything to Inspector Joachin.
* * *
I lead Inspector Joachin and Inspector Niven inside Castle Calder. We walk around the garden and through the kitchen, but he pauses in the corridor.
‘Is that the pantry,’ he asks, ‘where the cake was kept?’
‘Yes.’ I smile.
He grins back. ‘Excellent work.’
Upstairs the library door is open, and Hugo is standing inside waiting for us.
Louisa and Fran are still sitting on the sofa. Roma is by the window looking down at the events playing out on the drive with Mike and the police officers as he’s led away to the police van.
Jim is standing behind Gunter who sits morosely in a hard-backed chair. And Herr Schiltz looks dazed, sad and contemplative.
‘Good evening, everyone. My name is Inspector Joachin García Abascal from Europol, and this is my colleague, Inspector Niven, from Police Scotland.’
‘Good evening.’ Inspector Niven moves forward and stands in front of Louisa.
‘Please may I see that ring?’ She points at the blue diamond.
In all the excitement of events, I hadn’t noticed the diamond ring back on Louisa Schiltz’s finger. I know she’d taken it off but somehow and at some time, Herr Schiltz must have persuaded her to wear it again.
Herr Schiltz groans as Louisa pulls the diamond ring from her finger.
‘Here!’ she says, thrusting it at Inspector Niven but it’s Inspector Joachin who steps forward with his hand outstretched. She drops it in his palm as if she’s pleased to be rid of it.
‘Thank you.’ He lifts it to the light and smiles. ‘This is what we wanted, thank you.’
‘The ring?’ exclaims Fran. ‘You wanted that bloody ring? What about Iris?’
‘Ah, yes. Well, we were after the ring, but it was also good to get a confession or almost a confession to Iris’s murder.’
Gunter speaks slowly. ‘You wanted the ring?’
‘Yes, but with a little more work, I’m fully confident that the German police will have all the evidence they need. I think the truth about what happened five years ago to your mother has finally come to light.’ Inspector Joachin meets Gunter’s hard stare.
Gunter says dismissively, ‘You have no hard evidence. This is a family weekend.’
‘On the contrary, we have witnesses for what has happened. The conversations as well as our video recordings from hidden cameras here in the castle.’
‘That won’t hold up in court.’ Gunter grumbles.
‘I think you’ll find it will. Plus we have your brother Wilhelm who, miraculously I should say, seems to have recovered some of his memory from five years ago. He’s agreed to receive further treatment for PTSD and has decided to stay in Scotland for a while to, as he says, sort himself out.’
Herr Schiltz looks defeated. ‘The ring, you’re here because of the ring?’
‘Yes.’ Inspector Schiltz nods.
‘So, if I hadn’t bought the ring none of this would have happened?’
‘The ring, as you well know, belonged to the Sultan of Dubai. It was stolen from his home by one of his staff last year and smuggled out of the country. It ended up in the hands of a Russian arms dealer, who traded it and used it for currency, for weapons, to fund the war in Syria. You, Herr Schiltz, were offered it, in return for transporting a shipment of arms.’
‘That’s not true.’ Herr Schiltz doesn’t sound convinced.
‘Its value is probably over $20 million. You purchased it at a fraction of the price on the black market for $1.5million. I’m sure you must have realised the bargain you had, especially as there was no recorded documentation from the sale.’
Herr Schiltz shakes his head. ‘These deals happen all the time.’
‘Of course they do, but I’m a firm believer that the truth will always come out,’ Inspector Joachin replies. ‘That’s why I do this work. I don’t believe anyone is above the law, or that these beautiful…’ He holds up the perfectly rare and beautiful blue diamond ring. ‘And other treasured artefacts should be plundered by wealthy people who have no respect for the law and believe that rules don’t apply to them.’
I want to cheer and whoop. Inside my heart, I’m laughing, but I remain silent, standing at the door, speechless with a silly grin on my face. When I look at Hugo, and meet his eye, he winks at me.
* * *
After Police Scotland and the other guests have left and Mike, Gunter and Herr Schiltz are taken to the police station, Louisa, Fran and Roma leave for the airport, on the condition they return straight home to Germany.
‘The German police will be waiting to take their statements,’ Julie explains to me. Jim will drive them to the airport, and he’ll make the journey back to London with Paula.
Before she leaves Paula hugs me, and I whisper, ‘Don’t be afraid.’
She looks at me strangely. ‘I won’t. I have nothing to fear.’
‘I mean, if you’re in love with Freya, don’t be afraid of having a relationship.’
Her cheeks blush. ‘She told you?’
I nod. ‘Be happy.’
Jim looks at me over the bonnet of the car before climbing into the driver’s seat. He gives me a quick salute and I’m pleased that I never had to tackle him. I’d never have won.
I watch them drive off, then I go to my room and begin to pack my overnight bag, checking to make sure I don’t leaving anything behind. I change out of my white tunic and bandana into cut-off jeans and a pretty blouse.
I wonder what will happen to Herr Schiltz’s company, the staff and their jobs.
Who will take the helm of the business?
I guess that Paula and the lawyers will be busy, perhaps Jack will now get involved, this could even be Wilhelm’s time to shine.
Perhaps he might have learned a valuable lesson, just as I have.
Before she left, Inspector Niven thanked me for my hard work. She called me a valuable asset – so now, maybe I can do anything. I’m beginning to feel more normal. As if I’ve regained my confidence after my disastrous relationship with James.
I’ll go home, take Tina out this week to celebrate and have long runs with Molly. I’ll get my business back on track. Having seen how this family turned out, I’m even brave enough to speak to James’s mother. I can explain it to her. I will tell her I’m bankrupt. I will make sure James is not off the hook, and I will get my money back.
I’ll get back to the top of my game.
I look around the converted stable; this poky room at Castle Calder has been my safety net.
It’s not about money, as Herr Schiltz now knows. Dealing with illegal, stolen goods, whether they’re imported from China or purchased on the black market, is wrong. And he’ll pay the price – they all will, including Gunter and Mike, for murder.
All the family thought they were above the law and could conceal the truth; buy a stolen ring, hide a murder weapon in the bank vault, import illegal goods. But the truth comes out. You can’t hide everything forever.
I add my washbag to my weekend bag and zip it shut.
I’m sure Louisa will be happy. She’s still young enough to meet someone else. She wasn’t aware of the value of the stolen diamond, and by all accounts, she is an innocent party, even to the murder of Herr Schiltz’s first wife. They tried to conceal their affair, but everyone knew and it caused so much hypocrisy and ill will within the family.
Was it worth it?
Fran will face the German police for lying five years ago, and her husband will surely go to prison. And Roma, she will bring up the three children while Gunter is in prison. This is a prime example of how a family weekend doesn’t turn out as you expect.
I take a last look around the room a
nd check my reflection. It’s the same face looking back at me, but during these few days in Scotland, I’ve changed.
‘I’m Ronda,’ I whisper. Then I smile at myself. ‘And I’m back.’
I close the door of the small studio.
Julie and Mac are waiting for me outside in the evening sunlight. We hug, and I wipe away a tear.
‘Stay in touch?’ she asks.
‘Definitely. You must come and visit me in London, with Mac, of course.’ I smile at him and throw my arms around his neck too.
‘Thank you both.’
‘Take care, Ronda. Let us know who you’re cooking for next time.’ Mac grins. ‘It will probably be someone very famous.’
I laugh and wave as I walk away. ‘But it won’t be as exciting as this weekend.’
Hugo and Inspector Joachin are waiting beside the car.
‘I’m dropping Hugo at the train station for the overnight train to London. Are you sure you want to go back tonight?’ Inspector Joachin asks.
‘Definitely. There’s been too much excitement here – enough for me to last a lifetime.’
I sling my weekend bag onto the back seat and climb into the car behind the inspector, and it allows me to study Hugo’s profile.
He hasn’t said much. I guess that he will be out of a job. No more sommelier work with Herr Schiltz. He may have to go back to restaurant work in France or Spain.
I realise I’m looking forward to spending eight hours on a train with him, and I hope I don’t fall asleep and waste precious time.
‘What will happen to Paula?’ I ask.
Inspector Joachin drives the car, and he looks at me periodically in the rear-view mirror.
‘She’ll be out of a job now they’ve taken Herr Schiltz,’ I add. ‘If he hadn’t hidden the murder weapon five years ago events might have turned out differently for all of them.’
‘Paula always liked Wilhelm. He might keep her on, as it seems he’s going to be the one to take over the running of the company.’
‘Wilhelm?’
‘He’s in police custody at the moment, but he’s done nothing wrong. It seems like he’s the one to take the helm and lead this family forward. He’s happy to work with the police and to find out the truth.’
I gaze out of the window, watching the evening lights of Aberdeen coming on and flashing by, thinking of the beating I gave him on two occasions. He doesn’t seem to have made a fuss to the police about it, and for that, I feel grateful.
‘What about the note?’ I ask. ‘The one that Iris wrote before she died, that Herr Schiltz carried in his wallet.’
Hugo replies, ‘I took a photo of it.’
He takes out his phone and reads it.
‘Dearest Friedrich. I know what you have done. You have betrayed me, your sons and your business. I will not rest until you pay for your crimes. I am going to the police.’
‘She never got to the police, though, did she?’
‘Mike arrived at the house first and he killed her. By the time Wilhelm arrived, she was dead and he was devastated. Herr Schiltz came home a few minutes later.’
‘Was the note written in English?’
‘Yes, Iris was American.’
‘So, that’s why he couldn’t show the note to the police. It incriminated him.’
‘Yes.’ Hugo puts his phone away.
‘But he didn’t destroy it.’
‘It must have been a constant reminder to him. He thought his son Wilhelm had killed his own mother – his wife – and he blamed himself.’
‘It didn’t stop him from purchasing a blue diamond illegally,’ I mumble. We wait for a traffic light. ‘He’s a crook.’
‘He’s the sort of man who will never change. You know that, Ronda.’ Hugo turns in his seat and regards me briefly. ‘He’s not a murderer but he is an awful father, as you well know.’
I’m surprised Hugo makes this reference to my father. Nothing changed him. There was no moment of regret, apology, or atonement. He simply died without paying the price for the damage he caused his wife – and me – and my younger brother. He was a bully. He never faced his day of retribution and it all seems so unfair.
I sigh.
‘So, what about you, Ronda?’ Inspector Joachin asks. He meets my eyes in the mirror. ‘What are your plans?’
‘I’m going to rebuild my business.’
He turns the car into the train station.
‘We have five minutes,’ Hugo says. ‘Until the train leaves.’
Inspector Joachin climbs out of the car with us.
‘I hope we’ll see each other soon,’ he says.
‘Soon?’ I laugh. ‘Are you coming to London?’
‘Perhaps. If everything works out.’
He looks at Hugo, and I give him a shy smile. Inspector Joachin must know we kissed in the garden, he knows everything else, and I’m suddenly embarrassed.
‘You see, Ronda, I’ve been thinking. Inspector Niven was right. You’re a precious asset, and you took to this work instinctively and I’m hoping that you’ll give some thought to joining us.’
‘Us?’
‘We often work with civilians with the necessary skill sets to help us, and you’d be a very valuable undercover, shall we say, helper?’
‘I’m a chef.’
‘I know. Now, go and get your train. Hugo will explain everything on your journey back to London.’
‘Hugo?’ I turn to look at him. ‘Hugo?’
He winks at me.
‘Are you a helper?’
Hugo shakes his head. ‘No, I’m a police officer with Europol. That’s why I had to take a back seat with the events in Castle Calder. I had to let Julie lead and make the arrest, and she did a great job.’
‘You’re a policeman?’
Hugo smiles. ‘And a sommelier. It’s just one of my undercover duties.’
I stare at him.
He had saved me that day coming out of Herr Schiltz’s bedroom. He had shown me the secret passageway. He’d moved Jim’s cameras and he’d kissed me in the garden. All in the name of duty?
‘Right,’ I say coldly, slinging my bag over my shoulder. ‘Let’s go. I’m not missing this train.’
Hugo and Inspector Joachin share a puzzled glance.
But I don’t wait. I stride off towards the platform and to the train taking me to my newfound destiny in London.
‘Duty!’ I mutter, waiting on the platform. ‘Duty! Sod Hugo. I never want to speak to him again. I’m going to sleep for eight hours on the train.’
The End.
Want to read more?
Read on for an extract: The Influencers
The Influencers
Book 2
A Ronda George Thriller
Talented kickboxer and Masterchef turns detective.
After a shattering discovery – will Ronda survive?
Charismatic TV personality Daniel Clarkson employs Ronda George to cater at an exclusive function in his well-known Kent country pub.
She’s shocked to find her ex, James Frampton, who stole her savings, is launching a new cryptocurrency.
With the help of eight wealthy, social influencers it will take the Internet by storm.
But Ronda discovers that the business deal is a scam. James and his business partners will stop at nothing to launch the venture - even if it means silencing her forever.
Ronda’s intuition and instincts kick in and she calls on her army and martial arts skills in order to survive and get back what’s rightfully hers.
The Influencers is the second book in the Ronda George series of thrillers which can be read and enjoyed in any order, although it’s exciting to watch Ronda’s personal development with each book in the series and it’s preferable to read them in sequence.
Fans of female sleuths and aficionados of Lucy Foley, Catherine Cooper, Allie Reynolds, Shari Lapena, Riley Sager and Lisa Jewell.
The Influencers - Chapter 1
‘One must pass through the network
of influence. One is obligated to be influenced, and one accepts this influence very naturally. From the start, one doesn’t realize this. The first thing to know: one doesn’t realize one is influenced. One thinks he is already liberated, and one is far from it!’
Marcel Duchamp
The autumn downpour takes me by surprise, and heavy rain is trickling down my neck. I’m juggling the front door key, balancing my shopping, including tonight’s dinner of lamb kebabs and Molly’s lead, when my mobile rings. I push open the door, and Molly tugs herself free. She’s excited to be home, knocks against my leg and I lose my balance and my grip. My shopping drops on the floor. The fresh brown eggs smash on the concrete step.
‘Hello?’
‘Ronda George?’ The stranger’s voice is formal and shows signs of an expensive education.
‘Yes.’
‘Daniel Clarkson, we haven’t met. I’m—’
I know precisely who Daniel Clarkson is. He’s one of the most well-known celebrities you could imagine, a face for TV: chiselled jaw, sculpted cheekbones and, even dimples. He’s the nation’s favourite host. He’s successfully narrated a series of documentary TV programmes from rail travel across the globe to unusual gardens in Bolivia.
‘I hope you don’t mind me calling you, but the thing is, I own a pub in the heart of the Kent countryside …’ I hear the proud smile in his voice.
His pub, The Cockerel and the Guinea Pig is legendary. It’s booked up months in advance, and it’s almost impossible to get a table reservation. Tina and I have tried on many occasions since it opened three years ago, and in the end we gave up. It’s often in the Hello! magazine with celebrity couples posing outside with their fast, flashy cars.
I’m speechless.
Daniel Clarkson is calling me.
‘The thing is,’ he continues in his melodic TV voice, ‘my regular chef is ill, and I have a crucially important function to cater for, and I was wondering if you’d be free.’