by Brian Peters
“No Mr. Lomax, it is not OK! I do need an answer now. I have other urgent arrangements to make. I would appreciate it very much if you would agree.”
Luke paused, shaking his head and gathering his thoughts. “I’ll have to talk to Asil. If I do agree, then I’ll have to be back here by Saturday night.”
Why shouldn’t he do it; he had nothing planned for the weekend and he was certain that Asil would want him to help Kohler out. And it would break the monotony of his usual workload and add a frisson of excitement to his day. He decided to do it.
“Are you still there, Mr Lomax?”
“Yes. Yes, OK, I’ll try. You better e.mail me the details right away though. I’ll need to book the ferry immediately, they may not have room for another car at such short notice.” Luke gave him his e.mail address and his mobile number.
“Excellent! Mr Lomax, if I don’t hear further from you I will assume that you will arrive here by midday tomorrow.” He hung up before Luke could add to the conversation. Luke looked at the phone still in his hand and shook his head again. He realised once more that he had failed to get Kohler’s mobile number. He dialled 1471 but got the ‘number withheld’ message. Luke wasn’t looking forward to Asil’s reaction when she knew that he would be away until Saturday night at least.
He heard the extension phone click down. Asil had been eavesdropping to the call on the phone in the drawing room.
“Have you been listening in, Asil?”
Asil faced him tight-lipped. “I can’t believe you agreed to take Kohler’s car to Germany, Luke. What are you thinking about? You didn’t even ask me –“
“Asil, you said you liked him. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“That was before we found the gun. I don’t want you getting involved in anything that might lead to trouble.”
“We discussed the gun. You thought that it might not be his, that he wouldn’t have left it in the car if he’d known about it.”
He suddenly found himself very angry. He wanted to do this. For once he wanted to escape from Asil’s ordered, safe, secure little world. He wanted to insert a Thelonious Monk discord, a Maynard Ferguson screaming top C, a Basie band pulsating riff into his life.
“ It’s too late, Asil. I’ve already agreed.”
Asil stood wide-eyed for a second. The defiance in Luke’s stance was something she hadn’t witnessed before and it frightened her. She nodded her head slowly.
“Then I’ll come with you. But I don’t like it at all’”
“No. I need you to be here. Speroni is coming for his car tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”
“But….”
“I can finish it now before I go so that you can deal with him; you’ll need to get his bill ready, too. It shouldn’t take me more than an hour to fix it while you pack an overnight bag for me.”
Asil walked up to him, put her arms around his neck and pouted her concern. He hugged her, kissing her on the forehead. “You’re not trying that trick on me again! Look, just pack that bag for me while I phone Stena Line. I’ll get cracking on the Alfa. I just hope I can get the car booked on the ferry at such short notice. You know how busy Fridays are with people going away for the weekend. And can you find me my passport please?”
Asil released him and headed upstairs to pack.
It was the middle of May, and the weather had turned exceptionally warm, so Asil only packed a toilet bag, pyjamas, clean underwear and a shirt. Luke had just put the phone down from calling the port when Asil brought the overnight bag downstairs. “What about euros? You’ll need euros,” she said.
“I’ll get the currency on the boat. They can fit me in, by the way; that’s a relief. I’ll get a meal on the boat before I turn in.”
Fortunately, he managed to finish the Alfa in good time and give Asil enough information for her to make the invoice up. He said goodbye to a still decidedly cool Asil, picked up his bag, kissed her and left. She stared after him, trying to understand what had caused this sudden change in her husband.
The drive to Harwich in the old Mercedes was uneventful. He had a feeling of excitement as he pitched up at the port, a sort of holiday feeling. No, not a holiday feeling as much as a playing truant feeling.
After a short wait in a queue of cars on the dock they were ushered onto the ferry. He parked the car on the car deck and made for the upper deck, up three flights of stairs and along the labyrinth of corridors until he found his cabin. He freshened up and headed for the restaurant. As I’m on expenses he thought, I don’t feel guilty about having a decent meal and a bottle of wine to help me sleep. He had a lasagne and salad, washed down with two thirds of a bottle of Chianti. He got to his cabin some time after eleven and tried to get some sleep. He had eaten too much and suffered indigestion for it.
He had a restless night. The wine hadn’t had the effect he had wanted, in fact just the reverse. The next morning, he sat down to a breakfast of cereal, orange juice, a croissant and coffee, followed by two painkillers taken with some mineral water. He arrived at the Hook, not entirely refreshed and with a bit of a hangover. He went out on deck, pleased to be able to fill his lungs with fresh sea air and to watch the big ferry dock.
His heart was in his mouth as he approached the customs post. He had completely forgotten about the gun in the boot. What if they decided to search the car and discovered it? He was certain that they would note his discomfort and regard him as suspicious. He needn’t have worried. He was waved through without incident; his relief was palpable. On leaving customs he pulled into a lay-bye in the dock complex and set the satnav for Kohler’s address in Lüdenscheid. Then he headed for the autobahn.
****
Asil hated it when Luke was away and she was alone in the big house. Fortunately he was away very rarely. She had helped design the house before she moved to Suffolk, before she had met Luke. She wanted it to be as near as possible a replica of her original home in Towyn, in Wales. She had spent the first eight years of her life there before her parents had been so brutally murdered. The happiest days of her life had been spent in that house and she remembered every nook and cranny. The new house she furnished with the best that money could buy; a designer kitchen and a bathroom with walk-in shower; the downstairs rooms and bedrooms all had remote controlled curtains and blinds, linked Bang & Olufsen TV and audio equipment. Security was taken care of with burglar alarm and CCTV cameras all around the house.
Luke thought that the house was all a bit clinical and lacked a homely feel. But he knew that Asil’s traumatic past had influenced her outlook on life.
She had no desire to go back to Towyn; it held too many bad memories. Memories of her cruel Aunt Morag who still haunted her sleeping hours.
No Luke to comfort her disturbed sleep tonight.
****
Luke was slightly apprehensive about driving on the right; he hadn’t driven on the continent in about five years. But once free of the heavy traffic in Rotterdam and out on the autobahn his confidence had been restored and he relaxed, the hangover receding at last.
The old Mercedes purred along at a steady eighty to eighty-five, eating up the kilometres through the boring, flat windswept countryside of Holland and then past the abandoned border post into Germany. He tried to find a radio station playing jazz but failed, and regretted not bringing some of his tapes with him. The day was becoming warm and humid. He was pleased that the air-conditioning was still working on the old car. He stopped at a service area and went into the restaurant for a cold drink and a snack, lingering over it as he had made such good time so far and his head was now clear.
The road became more undulating the closer he got to Lüdenscheid, passing through gently wooded hills before exiting the autobahn and descending into the town. Lüdenscheid was much bigger than he had imagined it and the heavy traffic he had to face trying to follow his satellite navigation screen was stressful. Despite this, he found the address quite quickly using it, an apartment on Von der
Mark Strasse on the outskirts of the town. He parked the car and took the stairs to Mr. Kohler’s apartment.
Kohler greeted him warmly, invited him in and poured him a coffee. Luke was surprised to note how sparsely the apartment was furnished. No pictures on the walls, no photographs, no magazines lying about. Somehow it didn’t fit the image that this expensively dressed, suave and cultured man exuded. Luke’s misgivings began to surface again.
“You have made very good time, Mr. Lomax. I didn’t expect you for another hour or so. Was it a good trip?”
“No, not particularly. Well, the ferry was all right but I didn’t sleep well. I had too much wine with dinner! Had a bit of a hangover, actually, but it’s gone now. That old Merc. goes very well, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. They tend to go on forever, they are really good cars.”
Luke added some cream to his coffee and took a sip. “So, have you been able to arrange my flight back for this afternoon?”
Kohler stared into his coffee cup for a few seconds before answering. He swirled the remaining dark liquid around before looking up at Luke with a wry smile.
“Mr. Lomax, I have one more favour to ask of you. But first I must explain to you why it took me so long to get back to you over the car. You see I must take you into my confidence.” He shifted his weight on his chair and put his cup down. He placed his elbows on the table, making a pyramid with his hands and fixing Luke with his blue eyes. “I have a very successful business here. But unfortunately I am going through a very difficult and painful divorce. My wife is a very vindictive, greedy woman. I am renting this apartment temporarily, as you can probably guess. We have a large house in Werdohl, about fifteen kilometres from here. It has a swimming pool, sauna, triple garage, and every modern convenience.”
Luke began to wonder where this story was leading.
“ But she is insisting on taking half of everything. The house, my business, everything I own. I must sell it all and give her half the money.”
Luke could see that he was trying to keep his emotions under control. Kohler got up, went to a drinks cabinet and poured himself a brandy, offering one to Luke by gesturing with the bottle. He refused. It was far too early in the day to start drinking and the hangover from the previous night was still in his mind. Kohler downed the brandy and grimaced at the fiery liquid too hastily drunk. He paced up and down, stopped and looked at Luke.
“I must have a car. That Mercedes does not belong to me, by the way; I borrowed it from a friend and I must return it tomorrow. I should have returned it at the beginning of the week but my friend has been very understanding. I need a decent reliable car. I travel many thousands of miles in the course of a year; into Austria, the Czech Republic, Hungary, Italy, all over Europe.”
Luke wondered why collecting old books necessitated so much travelling.
Kohler regained his composure and sat down again. He leaned forward, smiled and fixed Luke with those blue eyes once again. “Now Mr. Lomax, you know about cars. I do not. It was indeed fortunate in a way that I broke down in England and found you and your charming wife.” He felt in his pocket and produced a packet of cigarettes, withdrew one and lit it with a gold lighter. He took a long draw, turned his head away, letting the smoke out slowly. He offered the packet to Luke, who refused.
“The favour I wish to ask of you is this, Mr. Lomax. I want you to come with me this morning, right away, and choose a suitable car from the Mercedes dealer in the town. Would you do that for me please?” He held up his hand, blocking any reply from Luke before continuing: “We can leave for the airport straight after the deal is completed. It will not delay your flight home, I promise you. But I must have a car today. The old Mercedes has to go back to my friend, he is collecting it from here first thing tomorrow morning.”
Kohler cast around for an ashtray and not finding one, cupped the ash in his hand.
Luke began to feel uneasy about the situation once again, although he felt slightly more relieved now that the circumstances involving the apartment and the ownership of the car seemed more plausible. He failed to see how he could refuse. The man seemed quite desperate. Luke wondered what Asil would say about it.
“OK, but I really must get home today.”
Kohler’s face lit up with relief.
“And so you shall Mr. Lomax! I can’t thank you enough. You will catch that flight today I promise you. Let us not waste time. Shall we go right away?” Kohler disappeared into the kitchen, taking the coffee cups with him. He stubbed out the half finished cigarette in the sink, washed it away, picked up his briefcase and ushered Luke to the door.
Down stairs, Luke handed the car keys to Kohler.
“No Luke, you can drive. I’ll give you directions.” Luke started the car and was about to drive off when Kohler said: “Oh, just wait a minute. I remember I left something in the boot.” He got out and went to the back of the car. Luke watched him through the rear view mirror, but the boot lid hid him from sight. Kohler was obviously retrieving the gun because Luke knew that the boot was empty. Kohler got back in the passenger seat, smiled at Luke and said: “Sorry about that,” and waved him to drive on.
The Mercedes dealer was situated not a mile from Kohler’s apartment. It had a large showroom with a phalanx of second hand Mercedes parked two deep on the extensive forecourt outside; none of the cars were more than three or four years old, Luke guessed. Kohler said: “I want you to pretend that you are interested in the car. As I said, I know nothing about cars. Is that OK? I will tell the salesman that you are a friend of mine. I presume that you speak our language?” Luke laughed and said: “No, not a word!”
“OK then, I will translate for you any questions you want to ask him about the cars.”
After Kohler had presumably retrieved the gun from the boot, misgivings were now giving way to feelings of mild panic. Although Kohler’s explanation about his circumstances had sounded quite plausible a short time ago, they were now causing serious doubts in Luke’s mind. He didn’t know whether to play dumb and stick it out or to cut and run and make his own way to the airport. His propensity for avoiding confrontation got the better of him, though. Or more specifically, the assumption that now Kohler was now probably armed.
“You better tell me the maximum you want to pay.”
Kohler pointed to the ranks of second-hand cars.
“Look, they all have the prices clearly marked on the windscreen. We’ll walk around and I will point out the ones that I feel will be the most suitable and that may fall into my price range. Then we can go back and talk to the salesman and perhaps take a test drive.”
They walked along the two ranks of cars with the salesman, Kohler looking intently at various models. After eventually sitting in and starting up five different cars with the salesman in close attendance, Luke decided that three of them were worth a test drive. After nervously test-driving these Luke had decided which one of them was the most suitable. Kohler told the salesman that they needed to discuss the purchase for a couple of minutes in private. They went back to the borrowed Mercedes and sat down inside it to discuss the deal.
“Well?” asked Kohler. “Which one do you think is the most suitable for my needs?”
“The last one we tried, the silver E320 turbo diesel. Low mileage, automatic, well looked after, full service history; and if the price suits you Mr. Kohler, then that’s the one I would go for,” said Luke.
“Please Luke, call me Klaus. Excellent; that’s fine, I thought so too. Just a little over my price limit but I think it will be worth it. I trust your judgement, Luke. Let’s go for it, eh?”
Kohler reached over to the rear seat and picked up his briefcase. He opened it and Luke was dismayed to see that it was stuffed full of neatly packaged euros in denominations of fifty’s, twenty’s and ten’s. Kohler smiled at Luke’s expression.
“Luke, don’t be alarmed. I haven’t robbed a bank. I want you to buy the car for me, for cash. If I buy it through my
bank account, my wife will make me sell it and take half the value of it. She won’t know about it if you purchase it in your name.”
“Purchase it in my name?”
Kohler held up his hand and said: “Just go back in and pay outright for it. I’ll come with you. They will not ask questions where cash is concerned. You will do this for me Luke, won’t you?” Kohler’s look was almost pleading, or so Luke thought.
He guessed that Kohler must have already told the salesman that the car was not for him, knowing that Luke didn’t understand the language.
”Wouldn’t your wife be suspicious if she were to see you in that car?”
“I will tell her that it is hired in the unlikely event that our paths cross.”
He sensed that he was being drawn ever deeper into something suspicious, if not outright sinister; matters were getting inexorably out of his control. Luke’s nature made Kohler’s persuasive attitude difficult to resist.
“Are you sure that it’s legal?” he asked. Kohler laughed. “Of course, why should it not be? You will say that your address is my apartment in Von der Mark Strasse. They won’t want any proof of identity, as it’s a cash transaction. I’ll pay you another two hundred euros over what I have already promised you to prove my gratitude to you. Now come on Luke, we don’t have much time if I am to get you to the Airport in time to catch your flight home.”
“ But….won’t they need time to get it prepared before we take it away?”
“No, no! All the cars are ready to go.”
Luke began to wonder if the money was stolen, or if indeed it was from a bank robbery, or maybe from drugs? Luke shook his head in bewilderment while Kohler counted out 22,000 euros in fifties, and put them in an envelope and gave it to him. It took some time.
He began to panic once again. Kohler noticed the hesitancy in Luke actually wanting to take the money from him.