Whisper For The Reaper: A spine tingling murder mystery (Detective Inspector Declan Walsh Book 4)

by Jack Gatland

  Her jaw tightened into a line.

  ‘Now, did you kill my granddad?’

  Ilse laughed. ‘You are a firebrand!’ she exclaimed. ‘Tied up and in fear for your life, yet you still possess such anger, such passion.’ She walked away, but stopped and turned back.

  ‘I do not know if I killed your grandfather,’ she replied. ‘I doctored his drink that night, I will admit, but whether that was what killed him, or whether it was the impact of his car striking the tree and rolling into a ditch…’ she shrugged. ‘It’s far easier when they kill themselves.’

  ‘But you screwed up,’ Jess mocked. ‘You allowed Nathanial to leave a note. You didn’t clean up as well as your daddy did.’

  ‘And you’ve not examined the case as thoroughly as your daddy did,’ Ilse snapped. ‘I didn’t see the note because it was covered in blood! I trusted him to do the right thing! He knew what would…’

  She stopped.

  ‘Oh, you’re very good,’ she nodded. ‘It will be a shame to kill you.’

  ‘Wait!’ Jess said as Ilse forced the gag back into her mouth. ‘You said I would be—‘

  ‘You know too much,’ Ilse replied sadly, stepping back from the now re-gagged Jess. ‘No coin for you, I’m afraid. No card, either. Just a girl, in too deep, and grieving her father’s death.’

  As Jess screamed muffled, silenced yells of anger through her gag, Ilse turned and walked away.

  ‘Everything ends at midnight,’ she said.

  Monroe and Bullman had taken the first flight back to London, and once through customs had called in a couple of favours from the local police; within half an hour of exiting the terminal, a police squad car pulled up outside The Olde Bell, turning off its flashing lights as Monroe and Bullman exited, nodding a thanks to the driver as the car returned towards the M4 and London.

  Making their way to the Library, Monroe opened the door and stopped in surprise. He’d expected to find Declan, Billy and Anjli there, maybe even Rosanna Marcos, but what he faced was a little more than that.

  ‘You’re here. Good,’ DCI Freeman nodded as he turned back to the others in the room; Billy, De’Geer, Anjli, Doctor Marcos and PC Davey. ‘DCI Monroe and DCI Bullman will also assist in the operation.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Monroe said as he entered the room. ‘Can’t help but think we’re missing something.’

  ‘That’s because you are,’ Anjli replied to Monroe before nodding to Bullman. ‘Ma’am.’

  ‘Catch us up,’ Bullman said as she glanced down at the newspaper on the table. ‘We’re still on German time.’

  ‘Declan’s missing,’ Billy explained. ‘And so is Jess. We think Karl and Ilse did it.’

  ‘Karl Schnitter is our person of interest, but he’s clever,’ Freeman explained. ‘He was in the bar of The Olde Bell on the night of Nathanial Wing’s death, seen by multiple witnesses and, until we can prove he used a secret tunnel to kill Rolfe Müller, he has an alibi for that too. However, we have a witness stating that she saw him in 2012, and your work in Germany has gained us intel that shows that he was a US government sponsored informant, and given immunity from all crimes committed.’

  He grimaced.

  ’The same US government that is sending someone tonight to pick him up and whisk him away to a new identity, and who have tied my hands on getting anyone else onto this case.’

  ‘You’re here, and that’s what matters,’ Monroe replied. Freeman nodded a thanks to this as Billy took over.

  ‘Also, hospital records show that Karl was the only other person who visited Christine Walsh the night of her death, and we have witnesses claiming they saw him in a pub with Patrick Walsh the night that he died,’ he said.

  ‘With Ilse Müller,’ Anjli added. ‘Who had personal contact with Nathanial Wing before his death, and no alibi for her whereabouts that night. Whose handwriting and notepaper matches the suicide note that we found in Rolfe Müller’s pocket—‘

  ‘That has contractions that match her own writing style,’ Billy added. ‘And who was also with Karl Schnitter and therefore is his alibi for when Rolfe Müller died.’

  ‘We also had a report from the detective you chatted to, Margaret Li,’ Doctor Marcos interjected. ‘Patrick Walsh’s blood work on the night that he died showed no major drugs in his system, but there was some erroneous data. A substance that couldn’t be recognised until Bayer Ingelhelm contacted her in relation to this. Ilse was fired for taking an untrialled medicine to a convention in the UK, two months ago. The medicine was however taken off trials because of severe side effects.’

  ‘Heart related ones?’ Monroe offered. Doctor Marcos nodded.

  ‘It’s a proprietary medicine, so we’re having issues getting a sample, but we learned of some of the substances in it.’

  ‘And these are the mystery ones in Walsh’s blood?’ Bullman asked. Doctor Marcos nodded.

  ‘Extensively.’

  ‘So now we have a link to Ilse and Patrick Walsh.’

  ‘A possible one,’ Freeman said, bringing attention back to him. ‘None of this is solid. It’s all circumstantial. We have enough here to bring her in for questioning, but not for anything concrete. We can’t prove she gave Patrick Walsh the drug. Even if she did, we can’t prove it’s the same substance that he had in his body. We can’t prove that she was there when Nathanial Wing died, but we have her leaving The Olde Bell on the night in question and turning right.’

  ‘Why’s that important?’ Bullman was confused here. ‘I mean, I’ve only seen your village for five minutes…’

  ‘Ilse claims she would walk along the Thames at night, ma’am,’ De’Geer explained. ‘If she was, she would turn left. Turning right leads you south out of Hurley.’

  ‘And it’s the direction you go when heading to the Golf Club,’ Monroe added. ‘So the plan is to bring in Ilse. Nice. So why isn’t Declan here?’

  ‘That’s the reason we’re all here,’ Anjli replied. ‘We went to the house and found it trashed. The door open, and neither Declan nor Jess are there; Declan’s phone is still in the Audi, on the passenger seat. But we found this.’

  She looked to Doctor Marcos who picked up a clear bag from the table. Inside it was an empty syringe.

  ‘It’s a strong sedative,’ she replied. ‘We don’t know if Declan, Jess or both were taken, and the doorbell footage from across the road didn’t pick up motion. But neither of them are contactable, and if Karl and Ilse are intending to disappear, they’ll want to settle all their scores first.’

  ‘Basically, there’s a very strong chance that Declan, Jess or both are about to become the last victims of the Red Reaper, before the bloody CIA gives him a new identity.’

  27

  Two Minutes To Midnight

  Declan had done everything that had been asked of him. He’d returned to the house, leaving his phone in the Audi when he swapped cars, and clambered into the Peugeot 308 that was parked outside, taking the key from the wheel arch and climbing in. On the passenger seat was a single piece of notepaper, with four words written on it.

  DO DROP IN, DECLAN

  So it was the Dew Drop Inn. That made sense. Anjli had mentioned that it was closed for renovations, and the contractors wouldn’t be there so late in the evening.

  It felt strange being back in the car again; he’d used this to drive to Woking and then to London, all while hiding from the police, wanted for a murder he hadn’t committed, and a claim of treason that wasn’t warranted. And in a way, he was hiding from the police again.

  Except this time, he knew the police would work out what to do. He trusted his team to save Jess.

  He’d entered the house briefly and had seen the mild carnage inside. Jess had been taken, and from the looks of things had put up a small fight while this happened.

  Good girl.

  Christ, Liz is going to kill me when this is over.

  That said, the door had been closed and locked, and from the outside nothing looked out of place.
r />   When he left, he made sure that the front door was left ajar. That way if, or even when Anjli, Billy or whoever it was arrived at his house, they’d be able to enter, and see that something was wrong. He’d placed his phone in a visible location, too; they’d know that something was amiss, even if Karl didn’t realise Declan had passed a message. It was the best he could do, as he still didn’t know what Karl’s plan was. For all he knew, Karl could have been watching him the entire time, so it was better to make these look like casual mistakes than a planned revelation.

  He’d arrived at the car park of the Dew Drop Inn at fifteen minutes past ten that night; a good hour and a half before Karl was likely to arrive. But again, there was no proof that Karl wasn’t there already. Looking around to make sure that he wasn’t being watched, Declan reached carefully into his pocket and pulled out a small mobile phone. It was a burner phone, and one that Karl wouldn’t have known that Declan owned, one that only had one number in it. He hadn’t used it since he’d been on the run, but it had been the only thing he picked up from the house as he left. And he only sent one text on it right now.

  Dew Drop Inn

  This done, he leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes. Nothing was going to happen for a good hour or more, and he needed to be at his best. But the moment he did, visions of Jess; captured, tortured, even killed crossed his vision. Opening them again, he sighed, turning on the car radio, allowing the sounds of Classic FM to enter the car, as he mentally prepared himself.

  After all, this might be the last time he ever heard classical music.

  Ilse was pacing around the workshop now, silent but obviously irritated. Jess glanced at the clock on the wall; it read 11.30pm. Half an hour before whatever was supposed to happen, well, happened.

  Ilse stopped, turning to face Jess.

  ‘It wasn’t supposed to end this way,’ she muttered. ‘Rolfe was meant to give up. We could have lived in peace.’

  Jess snorted, the only thing she could do while tied up. Ilse went to reply but then stopped, looking towards the main entrance.

  ‘It’ll all be over soon,’ she cooed softly, as if to herself. Jess said nothing, but kept completely still. In fact, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself, as in her right hand, hidden from view was a sliver of snapped metal hacksaw blade, no longer than four inches in length and grasped by Jess when the chair went over on the garage floor. It cut into her own hand, but Jess hoped that by gently sawing it against the plastic cable tie, she might break it. Or at least she might weaken it enough to snap the cable tie with her own strength. This way, if she could mostly cut through both cable ties, and that was a large if, as it relied on her being able to pass the blade from hand to hand, both tied to different arms of the wooden chair, she’d be able to burst free, surprising Ilse and taking her down.

  That’s how it was planned in her head. The facts of the matter were a lot more complicated. To actively attack, Jess would have to leap up and attack Ilse, but with her arms free and her ankles still secured, all that would happen was that Jess would tumble to the floor.

  No, better to free one hand. There was every chance that she’d be left alone as Ilse became more jumpy, the right-hand arm of the chair wobbled after the fall, and could maybe be removed, used as a baton and she’d be able to break more bonds before the German madwoman realised.

  In fact, Ilse was distracted now; staring out of the main door.

  ‘I think I saw a car pass us,’ she whispered. ‘Your father’s friends must have realised that you’re missing. Or maybe it was just someone driving past, and I’m paranoid.’

  Jess said nothing, using Ilse’s distraction to saw harder, feeling a gentle snap as the cable tie gave way. When Ilse looked back to her captive, she didn’t see the tie, hanging loosely on the other side, and so walked over to a side table, grabbing a can of cola and drinking from it.

  ‘We could have lived in peace,’ she repeated. She hadn’t seen Jess pass the sliver of blade from one hand to the other, nor did she see Jess flex her legs, pulling at the cable ties around her ankles.

  And she certainly hadn’t seen Jess pull at the arm of the chair, her hand now freed, working the wooden armrest out of its socket with a little force.

  Billy looked to Anjli as they carried on driving. ‘Anything?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Anjli replied, looking over her shoulder, back at Karl Schnitter’s garage. ‘We can’t just pull up, anyway. If they are in there, then things could get messy if they see us arrive.’

  Billy nodded. ‘They’ve found nothing in the Maidenhead garage or Karl’s house. There aren’t that many more places to look. And to be honest, they might not even be in Hurley any more.’

  ‘True, but they didn’t have time to work something out in detail, and they probably haven’t realised we’re looking for them,’ Anjli replied. ‘Pull over here, now we’re out of sight.’

  Billy pulled his Mini to the curb where it stopped, the lights turning off as he switched off the engine. ‘Now what?’

  Anjli looked down at her watch. ‘It’s half-past eleven,’ she replied. ‘I think we have a little time for a look around, yeah?’

  Climbing out of the Mini, Billy and Anjli carefully stalked back to Karl Schnitter’s garage. They could see a faint light emanating from inside, but the view wasn’t that good from where they stood.

  ‘We need to get closer,’ Billy whispered. ‘I told you that this sort of thing was why I didn’t want to be a copper, right?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Anjli mocked as she crept towards the side window of the garage. ‘You live for this shit.’

  Now at the door, Billy carefully tried the handle. To no surprise at all, the door was locked. He turned to tell Anjli this, only to find that she was no longer outside the garage, having slid down the alley to the side, most likely intending to find a way in from the back of the building.

  Which of course meant that Billy could either join her, or stay here and act as a distraction, as bait. He weighed up both options and was about to move towards the alley where the faintest of clicks paused him, stopping the breath in his chest.

  The front door was opening.

  Ilse looked back to Jess as she moved to the front door. Through the glass, she could see the faint image of a man on the other side, lit from behind.

  ‘You make any sound, you die,’ she hissed. Jess struggled at the other cable tie as she sat there, worried that this could be her dad, about to walk into a trap. She needed to free herself quicker, but the blade was blunt now and the plastic was denser than she’d hoped as, picking up a vicious-looking wrench, Ilse slowly turned the lock in the door, clicking it open as slowly she turned the handle, raising the wrench to strike…

  Billy stepped back from the garage door as it opened, the back lit figure of a woman appearing in the doorway, some kind of weapon in her hand.

  ‘I’m unarmed!’ he exclaimed in fear as Anjli, a length of pipe in her grasp, emerged from the garage.

  ‘Good job I’m not,’ she laughed. ‘Christ, Billy, you weren’t joking. You really are terrible at this.’

  ‘I’m guessing that there’s nobody here?’ Billy asked, leaning past Anjli to look into the garage.

  ‘I don’t think anyone’s been in here since we were,’ Anjli replied. ‘There’s still forensics tape everywhere.’

  Billy sighed. ‘Well, that’s the last place empty,’ he moaned. ‘What the hell do we do now?’

  Ilse stepped back from the door as Karl Schnitter entered, quickly closing the door behind him.

  ‘I thought you were the police,’ she said. Karl smiled.

  ‘They’re too busy looking for any place I owned in Hurley,’ he replied. ‘Standard practice. Start where you know and work outwards. By the time they think of coming here, we will be long gone.’

  ‘Is it done?’ Ilse placed the wrench back onto the table as Karl nodded.

  ‘I spoke to some old friends,’ he replied. ‘They will ensure we are well looked
after. We will stay long enough to fix up some new identities and then we will be extracted.’

  Ilse smiled. ‘Will we be father and daughter?’

  ‘Of course,’ Karl replied. ‘You might not be a Müller again, but I have lived with that for decades. A name is just a name.’ He placed a rucksack on the counter as he watched out through the window on the door. ‘There is a ferry leaving Tilbury at first light. It will take a couple of hours to drive there, and we will have to hide while it goes to Le Havre, but once it departs there, we will be free until we reach America.’

  Ilse looked at Jess, now watching them. ‘Should you have said that in front of the girl?’ she asked. Karl shrugged.

  ‘Who will she tell?’ he replied, opening up his rucksack and pulling out a medical bag. ‘Nobody listens to the dead. Once her father has taken his life, we will arrange it to look like he killed his daughter first.’

  Jess didn’t move, staring in horror at the two Germans.

  ‘Do not worry, little one,’ Karl smiled. ‘It will be quick.’

  Billy was about to start the car when his phone went. Looking at the screen, he frowned.

  ‘We need to hold for a moment,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an automation that’s ended.’

  ‘And that means what exactly?’ Anjli asked. ‘Or is it some kind of tech thing that I’m too stupid to understand?’

  Billy grinned. ‘I need to remote access the computer at the Library,’ he said, holding his phone sideways and using it as a small tablet. ‘I need to see what—‘ he stopped.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh what?’

  ‘I’d left the hard drive attached, to see if there was anything on it that could be retrieved,’ Billy explained. ‘There’s one file. It was corrupted somehow, so the wiping must have kept it in some kind of stasis, not allowing it to be fully deleted, while not showing it.’