The Reluctant Samaritan

by Brian Peters

  Luke said: ”I think you better explain now….”

  Kohler held up his hand and said: “No, there is no time. I will explain when I come back. Sorry.” He left without another word. He didn’t lock the door when he left, which was a relief to them both.

  Asil looked at Luke. “Another fine mess you’ve got me into, Luke!” she said smiling, attempting to ease the tension.

  “I don’t think it’s the inleast funny, Asil. What is he up to? I don’t trust him at all.”

  “No, neither do I. But why would he be protecting us from our police? Let’s wait and see what he has to say. After all, it’s not as if we’re imprisoned here. We can walk out if we like, there’s nothing to stop us.”

  “But where would we go, Asil?”

  Asil shrugged and walked over to the window and looked out.

  Luke thought for a moment. “Why is he protecting us? You mean why is he protecting himself, don’t you? He’s told us lie after lie. Maybe he thinks whoever killed that man will find him through us.”

  He was angry and frustrated. He paced around the room then flopped into one of the settees, rubbing his forehead.

  “Sorry Asil, I really don’t know what to think. No, you’re right. OK, we’ll wait. But I’m not at all happy about it. He’s probably armed, you know. What if he wants to get rid of us?”

  “He could have done that already had he wanted to, couldn’t he? No, we’ll wait.”

  Kohler returned about two hours later carrying a bag with fresh brötschen, butter, some onions, potatoe’s, a tube of mustard, basmati rice, two jars of Bockwurst, a bottle of olive oil and a dozen eggs that he placed on the kitchen table.

  “I’m pleased to see that you are still here,” he said with a grin. “Come and sit down and we’ll talk. Oh, I forgot to tell you, there’s an immersion heater for hot water, I’ll switch it on for you. You might want to shower.”

  Asil and Luke sat side by side on one of the settees. Kohler disappeared into the bedroom and then came back and extracted a bottle of white wine from the fridge in the kitchen. He placed three glasses on the coffee table, opened the wine and poured it. ”Prost!” he said, raising his glass and taking a sip. Asil and Luke clinked glasses but weren’t sure whether they had anything to celebrate.

  Kohler looked earnestly from one to the other.

  “What I am about to tell you must remain between us. Any of what I am about to say may result in very serious consequences if any of it should it reach beyond these walls. Do I have your assurance on that?”

  Luke opened his mouth to say something but Asil put a hand on his to stop him. She then replied: “That depends on what you have to tell us, Herr Kohler. Providing that it’s within the law, then we will agree. So far you have told us nothing but a pack of lies.” She took a sip of her wine and held Kohler in her gaze.

  He responded by shrugging his shoulders resignedly. He recognised Asil as the more reasonable one of the two, and addressed his gaze to her.

  “Don’t think so badly of me, Asil. I will explain, so listen carefully. I’m afraid that I’ve used both of you for the purposes of helping my undercover department to apprehend some prominent members of the drug dealing community. I genuinely believed at the time that you would not be put in any real danger. I apologise, I was wrong. But my initial contact with you was quite by chance. When I broke down in your village, it offered me an opportunity that I couldn’t pass up.”

  Kohler took another sip of his wine.

  “There is a cartel of dealers here in Europe that have been trying to establish links in England. Three months ago we used one of our agents to infiltrate their operation. We created a false identity for him and a profile of criminal activities and fed it onto our police database. The car that you purchased was converted to conceal a hidden compartment to carry drugs. Our operative offered his services to someone known to be involved with drug smuggling here in Germany. It was hoped that he would lead us to the main dealer or dealers who had been set up in your country. He happened to be a good friend of mine as well as a colleague.”

  Asil interrupted: “Just a minute. So the story about your divorce and your wife taking half your estate was a subterfuge?”

  “Unfortunately not, Asil. The divorce is real. But it did help to make the story more believable.”

  Asil looked at Luke with raised eyebrows. Luke just shook his head, not now knowing what to believe. “And the car wasn’t stolen from the multi-story car park either?”

  “No, Asil, I’m afraid not, as you are now well aware.”

  Asil was angry now. “So why should we believe anything you tell us, Herr Kohler?” She felt duped by this man whom she had trusted and liked and put her faith in when Luke had been sceptical back in England. Her attitude now was distinctly hostile towards him.

  Kohler sighed. “Look, we live in a very dangerous world. I am trying to make it a better place and I have to employ devious methods to make it so. It is important that you believe me now. You are both in serious danger until whoever arranged the killing of my friend is apprehended. I’m afraid that I can’t let you go back to England until I can vouch for your safety. Months of investigation could be ruined if this case goes wrong.” Kohler glared at both of them, drained his glass, stood up and poured himself another. “Now I must find out what the English police have discovered. If they have traced you as the owner of the car, Luke, then they have probably been in touch with the police here in Lüdenscheid already. As soon as I have any news I will phone you here, OK?”

  Asil shook her head in frustration. “Are we to be kept prisoners here then?”

  “If you want to put it like that, yes. I’ve lost one friend; I don’t want to lose either of you two. Somehow my friend’s cover was blown. That could mean that they also know that it was you who purchased the car. Therefore they may conclude that you are also working for me. Now do you realise exactly how much danger you could be in?”

  Luke stood up and paced around the room. Asil studied her fingernails, not knowing what to say next, waiting for Kohler’s next move.

  Kohler said “I’m going to have to leave you again now, I have things to attend to. Please don’t use the phone. I won’t be back until the morning. Whatever you do, don’t leave here. You have to trust me and I have to trust you, OK?” Asil said: “No! It’s not OK. Why should we believe what you’ve told us? It could yet another pack of lies. What proof have we got that you are who you say you are?”

  “I’m afraid that you have no choice, Asil. I think I’ve proved that I mean you no harm. You really must trust me now.”

  Asil shook her head and stared at him, realising that what he said was true. “OK, but I will have to contact my aunt back home tomorrow or she will start to worry.”

  Kohler stepped forward and hugged Asil. “You poor girl. I can understand why you are so angry with me. I really had no idea that the consequences of this whole business would backfire in this way.” He stepped back and held her at arms length. Asil was embarrassed now and half smiled at him. He said: “Yes, of course you must phone your aunt. But not until the situation becomes much clearer. I may have better news for you tomorrow.” He made for the door and then stopped.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask you both for your passports, and your mobile phones.”

  “But…”

  “Sorry Luke, they can be traced.”

  “So, we have to trust you but you don’t trust us, is that it?” Luke said.

  Kohler just stared at him without commenting.

  They reluctantly handed their passports and phones to him before he left.

  ****

  Seifert’s phone rang. He recognised the number of the police station in Lüdenscheid. “Yes, Karl. You have some news?”

  Karl spoke softly into the phone, his eyes scanning the open office of the police station for anyone within earshot. “Frumholz has traced the Lomax couple to the Stadt Lüdenscheid hotel in Lüdenscheid
. I can’t tell you anymore than that.”

  “Good work Karl. Keep close to Frumholz. I want to know his every move. I’ll take care of the Lomax couple.”

  ****

  Kohler felt for the first time that his efforts to catch Franz Seifert were now falling apart. All his carefully made plans over the last few months had backfired and he had lost a good friend and colleague. He had jeopardised the life of two innocent and good young people. His superiors would soon conclude that his best years, his successful years, were behind him if he couldn’t resolve this situation. He took a deep breath and made for Sabine’s apartment.

  She was surprised to see him; they hadn’t agreed to meet that day. He looked pale. She hugged him then held him at arms length. “Are you OK, Klaus?” she asked, a concerned look on her face.

  “I need a drink Sabbi, a strong coffee if you don’t mind.”

  She made straight for the kitchen and poured some beans into the coffee grinder. Kohler followed her and leaned up against the worktop. He waited till the noise of the grinder had stopped and said: “Sabbi, you know I told you about that little mission to England I arranged?”

  “With your man Ulli Menken, that one?”

  “Yes, him. It’s gone horribly wrong, Sabbi. He’s been killed, murdered. That Lomax couple turned up at the apartment in Von Der Mark Strasse looking for me. I’ve had to hide them in the shooting lodge until I can sort something out.”

  She turned to face him, a frown creasing her brow.

  “Poor Ulli! Where did this happen?”

  “In England. And worse, the car was dumped with the body inside it near to the Lomax house. Which means that there is a link to me, although God knows how anybody could know that.”

  Sabine took his arm, led him to the settee.

  “Come on my darling, relax. Can you stay tonight? You need time to think.” She made him sit down and then brought in the coffee and sat down beside him. He smiled, patted her on the knee and said: “What would I do without you?”

  “What are you going to do with this couple, Klaus?”

  “I don’t know yet. I may have to speak to the local police and find out what they know. I need time to think about it.”

  She stood up and put her coat on. “I’m going out to get us something to eat, you deserve a steak and a bottle of wine Klaus. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.” She kissed her fingers, touched them to his forehead and left.

  Kohler took his coffee into the bedroom and hung his jacket in the wardrobe. He sat on the bed and drained his cup. How was he going to explain the loss of his friend Ulli Menken? He had been so certain that nothing could go wrong with this operation. The fact was that there must have been a leak of information. Surely Menken wouldn’t have been indiscreet? He had always believed that his colleagues were loyal and perfectly trustworthy. He was obviously mistaken. If Seifert had the power to infiltrate his organisation there was every indication that this battle would be lost.

  ****

  When he had gone Asil said: “We have to trust him now, Luke. I do believe that he is genuinely trying to protect us. Anyway, we don’t have much choice, do we?”

  “Oh, he’s charmed you alright, hasn’t he? I’m keeping an open mind at the moment.”

  Asil looked hurt and shook her head.

  Luke was awake early the next morning. Asil was already up and in the kitchen. He called through to her. “When are we going to eat, Asil, I’m starving.”

  “I’m thinking about it. How about an omelette and some of those Bockwurst?”

  “Oh, great! Forget the Bockwurst, a mushroom omelette will be fine. I’m sure there will be mushrooms in the woods. Shall I go and collect a few?”

  “OK, make sure they’re edible ones though.”

  “Asil, I was brought up in the country, I won’t poison you! I’ll take that waste paper basket to collect them in, shall I?”

  “Don’t be long, darling. I’m hungry too.”

  ****

  D.I Currie was in the station early the next morning. Lambert was already there to greet him, waving a piece of paper at him before he had got to his office door.

  “They left on the first flight to Düsseldorf the day before yesterday sir, Ryanair,” Lambert said cheerfully.

  “Do you have to be so full of good humour first thing in the morning, Lambert? For God’s sake let me get into my office before you start harassing me. And get me a coffee, two sugars and not too much milk.”

  Lambert followed him into the office, threw the piece of paper on Currie’s desk and frowned sullenly as he walked off to get the coffee.

  When he came back Currie said: “Sorry Lambert, I get a bit liverish in the mornings. Thanks for the coffee. Sit down. Good work, at least we know what to do next now, don’t we?”

  Lambert looked at him blankly for a few seconds. “Contact that Captain, er, what’s his name, Frumchops?”

  Currie smiled. “Frumholz. Right, Lambert! Tell him what flight they were on and ask him to check car hire firms, airport taxi drivers, CCTV camera’s. Do it now, then! Go on!”

  Lambert stood up, walked to the door, stopped and turned around.

  “What are you going to be doing then, sir?”

  “I’m going back to Monks Eleigh and ask around the village, get a bit of background on the Lomaxe’s. I’m sending a team to search the house later today. That all right with you, Lambert?” Currie said irritably, and waved a smirking Lambert out of his office.

  It was the middle of the afternoon when Currie got back to the office. Lambert was sitting at his desk.

  “Well, how did you get on sir?” Lambert asked. Currie slumped into his chair dejectedly.

  “It seems as far as anyone in Monks Eleigh knows, they live a blameless life. She used to work part time at a charity headquarters in Ipswich. He carries on his engineering business at home and she does the admin. The staff at the charity says that she was always very pleasant but seldom said a lot about her home life or about any interests she may have had. Nothing was found at the house to suggest that they’re involved in any criminal activities. Except that the house is very expensively furnished. The kitchen has enough top of the range equipment in it to finance a whole semi-detached house. In other words, Lambert, a total waste of time; apart from the fact that they seem to be unusually well off considering his modest car business and her charity job. How about you?”

  “Frumchops hasn’t got back to me yet. He said it could be tomorrow morning before he can tell us anything.”

  Currie picked up a paper clip and bent it out of shape, stared at it with a frown and then threw it into a waste paper bin. “This case just doesn’t make sense. What is it that we’re missing, Lambert? You can’t be a prolific drug dealer and not leave a single clue anywhere. You better look into their bank accounts. See just where their money’s coming from.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Luke felt a sense of relief as he wandered into the forest. The smell of wet earth and foliage brought back memories of his childhood in Suffolk. Holidays spent near Thetford forest, gathering wild strawberries, sloes, blackberries, narrowly avoiding being bitten by an adder on one occasion. Summer sun beating down on open fields and skylarks trilling as they ascended into those big Suffolk skies.

  For a few moments he was able to forget the trouble he and his lovely wife were in. Luke heard what sounded like a motorcycle engine somewhere in the woods. After it had stopped, he thought that perhaps he was wrong and that it was a chain saw cutting down trees. He heard it again a few minutes later, then forgot about it.

  It didn’t take him long to find the accompaniment to his intended breakfast. He knelt down to pick up a mushroom when he heard a twig crack behind him. Half turning, he was just able to see a black shiny motorcycle boot before being struck on the head. He fell forward, as a booted foot crashed into his kidneys. He curled up into the foetal position, groaning with intense pain, expecting further blows. They came, one, t
wo, three hefty kicks. Luke turned his head to see who had inflicted so much pain on him. Two helmeted figures stared down at him through dark tinted visors. “Aufstehen. Aufstehen!” The words were bellowed at him. He didn’t understand. He was hauled to his feet. “Komm mit. Schnell! Schnell!” He was pushed roughly in the back and made to walk, clutching at the searing pain in his side and his chest. A significant amount of blood made its way down his cheek from the wound on his head. He was feeling very dizzy now. They reached a track where a motorcycle was parked in front of a white Sprinter van. A large, bald, grinning man got out of the van, went round to the rear doors and opened them. He indicated to the two motorcyclists with a nod of his head to deposit Luke in the back of the van. Once inside, they tied his hands and feet, made him sit down and secured him to a stanchion in the side of the van then slammed and locked the doors. The van reversed, turned around and bumped its way through the forest and onto the main road, then accelerated away to somewhere Luke could not even guess at. Every bump in the road sent a searing pain coursing through his ribs. The wound on his head had started to dry up but his head throbbed.

  ****

  When Luke hadn’t returned from his mushroom gathering after half an hour, Asil started to worry. After an hour the worry turned to panic. Kohler had specifically asked them not to use the phone and in any case, she didn’t know his number. She thought about going out to look for Luke, but the forest was large and she had no idea in which direction he’d gone. Had he fallen and lay hurt somewhere? She decided to go anyway. She scrawled a note to Kohler in case he came back before she found Luke. She set out into the forest.