Moencker wasn't listening. "How do they do it?"
"And the dragon's still watching us. How do they do what?"
"Cause so much trouble without actually doing anything? Five murders, all connected to them, but yet they've been in a hotel and a farmhouse, gone nowhere near an awards ceremony or celebrity party. They do nothing and yet all this turmoil is going on around them."
"Jan," Wallet leaned against the car, "stop reading the papers. Believe only what you see with your own eyes." The alarm blipped and the doors unlocked. "Ride the publicity, milk it, use it, exploit it, whatever. That's how it's always been. Just don't fall for any of it. You want to compare them to other bands. The other bands couldn't begin to comprehend what this lot can do."
Moencker was relieved to finally get in the car and get away. Back to latent light, streetlamps and civilisation for all its mess and disorder.
10 (May)
No one entering the Ring of Strawberries did so without leaving a damp stain on the doormat. The rain was teeming down and made an uninvited dash for the bar and every time the door opened, blown in by a combination of strong wind, high pressure and the shock waves of thunder. One by one the participants of the Monday Night Quiz, hosted by Dave and Donna and attracting eggheads and thickos in equal numbers, settled their sodden backsides in anticipation of a first prize of thirty pounds and free ham sandwiches. The bigger the team the better the chance of success, but the thinner the spoils were spread. Terence Pearl's combatants, the Jolly Troubadours, were already in place. Pearl (chief brain and arbitrator) sat opposite his bearded nephew Clive and his wife Kylie, a former pupil of Pearl and not named after a pop diva whose early hits were written by Stock, Aitken and Waterman following an acting career in which Australian soap opera? Patrick was an English teacher and in spite of working at the same school as Pearl before his retirement, didn't socialise with him except on a Monday night when he attached himself to the team for no particular reason. Cedric from next door was parked up next to his sly, ammunition producing wife Wanda. And finally, Liz. Liz, the school librarian who had contributed a large sum of money to Pearl's early retirement present. Liz, the fellow author who once joined the same postal writers' circle even though she had never written anything and had to leave. Liz, the starstruck admirer who wished Pearl would join her on the local coach tours to Caister and Stretford Mill.
A weekly ritual was carried out in which everyone had their quiz drinks supplied and a handful of pens of mixed provenance were scattered across the table. Clive wrote down the answers, ninety per cent of which were supplied by Pearl, forty per cent of which were usually wrong, but no one dared to complain. Around the oak beamed room, those punters not allied to one of the factions stayed close to the bar while the Creeky Cruisers, Tony's Tractor Boys, Red Letter Day, The Mucky Nuns, the Lemondrops, Laurel and Hardy and The Bad Hair Mob joined the Jolly Troubadours in what was often billed as a battle to the death, but was usually a race to the bottom.
Rounds one and two covered art and the human body. At the end of the questioning, answer sheets were swapped between adjacent teams for marking. As usual the answers supplied by the Creeky Cruisers, sat close to Pearl's table, had a disturbing correlation to the Jolly Troubadours' answers and as the night wore on the two teams fought for position.
"Round three is the music quiz," announced Dave putting his glasses back on. "As our local heroes have been all over the press recently," there were collective groans around the pub, "this round is about Toten Herzen. Five questions and a maximum of seventeen points."
"I've never heard them," said Clive.
"You've never heard of them?" Pearl's biro was blocking up again.
"No, I've heard of them, I've just never heard them."
"I don't know what you mean."
"I've never listened to any of their songs," said Clive. Bubbles from the head of his pint spilled onto the table. He wiped them away with the edge of his beermat.
"No, you don't want to," said Liz. "I saw them one night, about 1974, with an ex-boyfriend and the crowd was just, I don't know, pure evil. That's the best way I can describe them. They were holding up dead rats and mice by the tales. It was horrible." Patrick nodded.
"Question number one. Two members of the band are originally from Rotterdam. The other two are originally from Lincoln. Can you name the two members from Lincoln? Two points for each name."
"No idea," said Liz.
"You went to see them," said Patrick.
"We didn't speak to them though, did we."
"Dee Vincent and Elaine Daley," said Pearl.
Clive wrote the names down. "What does the D stand for?"
"It doesn't stand for anything. D double-e. As in Dee, short for Denise."
"Oh, sorry."
"Denise Leslie Vincent and Elaine Daley. No middle name. Parents probably couldn't afford one," said Pearl confidently.
"Since when have you been an expert on Toten Herzen?" asked Cedric.
"I thought everyone knew that."
"Question number two. Toten Herzen had six chart hits." The quiz master was interrupted by a clap of thunder so severe it blew a window open. Women screamed, pints went over, the lights flickered, but no one died. There were mutterings that the spirit of the band was watching over them. Pearl wasn't amused and felt a hot flush dance all over his skin. Patrick glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Toten Herzen had six chart hits. Can you name two of them for two points each. And there are two bonus points if you can name the albums from which the hits came from."
"Go on Terence, amaze us again," said Kylie.
"Were you in the band?" said Clive.
"I most certainly was not. You could have Facelift, from the second album We Are Toten Herzen. That got to number four in the charts. And After I'm Gone from the Nocturn album. That got to number two."
"You know 'em all don't you," said Clive.
"I'm starting to worry about you, Terence," said Cedric.
"Any self respecting citizen of Ipswich will be familiar with local lore and legend. Even the bad bits."
"And keep your voice down," said Wanda. "The Creeky Cruisers are trying to listen in." Pearl gave a disapproving glare across to the boat owners sitting within eavesdropping distance. "We'll know if they have an identical score."
"Question three. Which famous American rock star invited the band to tour with him in the States, but was turned down. Two points."
"It wasn't Elvis, was it?" said Wanda shaking her head.
"Of course it wasn't Elvis. Alice Cooper," said Pearl quietly, then he raised his voice towards the Creeky Cruisers, "although it might have been Pat Boone."
"So who is it?" said Clive.
"What? Alice Cooper!"
"Question four. The author Jonathan Knight claims to have written a novel based on Toten Herzen. For two points what was the name of the novel? And for another bonus point, can you name the vampire story written by Sheridan le Fanu?"
Pearl squinted, the title, both titles, eluded him. The rest of the team sat silent to allow his thoughts to arrange themselves. Patrick observed the muttering and conferring going on around the room. The other teams looked equally stumped and their ignorance forced a barely perceptible swelling of pride, and some relief, in Patrick's stomach. Individual punters sat at the bar watched the quiz as if it were a game of chess with multiple players.
"Oh, dah!" Pearl clicked his fingers furiously. The Creeky Cruisers waited patiently.
"The Dead Heart Weeps," whispered Patrick to Clive's pen. "And Carmilla. That's the le Fanu story."
"Got it," said Clive. He grinned at the Cruisers.
"Of course," said Pearl. "Carmilla."
"Question five and you're going to hear a little bit of music. If you're wearing a hearing aid you might want to turn it off a minute." A blast of music competed with the thunder outside. "Hang on a minute, Donna," said Dave. "You're going to hear a clip from the live album, DeadHearts Live, but for two points I want you to name the
band who recorded the original version of this song." Panic set in at Pearl's table. No one, including Pearl, had ever heard any of the music, and Pearl knew next to nothing about rock music other than Toten Herzen's raucous contributions. He recalled Susan Bekker and Rene van Voors being influenced by a British rock band, but he couldn't remember if it was Black Sabbath or Deep Purple. The music went by without acknowledgement; a cacophony, a live blur almost drowned out by the sound of the audience; a frenetic display of guitar notes that pierced the ears with all the subtlety of a blunt masonry drill.
Wanda blinked and rubbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "Deep Purple," whispered Pearl. Clive made a note.
The round over, answer sheets were exchanged and sure enough, according to the cheating swine at the next table, Toten Herzen had turned down a lucrative offer from that arch-hellraiser himself Pat Boone. The bastards. And the pattern was repeated for the rest of the night. In round four the Cruisers blagged Pearl's audible suggestion that the pre-revolution leader of Iran was Ali Baba. In round five, the picture round, the Cruisers mistook Richard Nixon for Harry Corbett. And in round six, the science and technology round, which Cedric always sat up for, but never answered anything, the Cruisers graciously and surreptitiously accepted the answer, a chemist's shop, to the question: where would you go to look for the Higgs boson?
Competition over and the winners, by a single point, were the Bad Hair Mob, but the usual controversy, played out every week as the ham sandwiches came around, blighted the hairdressers' success. According to Dave, Toten Herzen were influenced in their formative years by Black Sabbath. The quiz master’s crime was compounded when he reeled off a list of Black Sabbath's greatest hits which included the apocryphal Smoke on the Water. Pearl wanted to join in, but he didn't know who had written Smoke on the Water, Highway Star or Strange Kind of Woman, but he was certain it wasn't Black Sabbath. His only consolation was that the Bad Hair Mob had also answered Deep Purple - and been marked wrong - so they hadn't won on the strength of an error, but as one punter suggested, with a mouthful of ham sandwich, "It's the same bloody tale every week, Dave. You get the answer wrong. One of these days there'll be a decent sum of money at stake."
With the battle over, normal pub chat was resumed and Kylie showed off her new iPad. "Have you ever googled your own name," she said. "I mean, obviously I know what's going to show up if I google my name, but what about you Cedric. Cedric Fowler? Let's have a look." Pearl, uninterested in Kylie's faddish toy or Cedric's accidental online presence, stood up to go to the bar. "Oh, One Against the World, by Cedric Fowler, didn't know you'd written a book." Wanda looked at her husband; Cedric blushed. He wouldn't know where to start unless his wife told him, thought Pearl.
When Pearl returned to the table he was greeted with silence. Liz fiddled with her glass, Kylie had put the iPad away and Patrick was playing the one armed bandit. Clive offered a smile, a strange kind of facial shape formed by the contortion of his beard. Cedric sat with his arms crossed in a mirror image of his wife. "Something wrong?" asked Pearl. "Has Dave corrected the scores?"
"You were right about Deep Purple," said Clive. "Not sure we agree with you about the Black Death being a form of germ warfare."
"You've got some funny ideas, Terence," said Wanda.
"I'm not with you."
"We found your website," she whispered. Cedric was still blushing. "Bit of a dark horse aren't you."
Pearl didn't answer. Outside, the thunder rolled and the rain battered the windows with long intensive sweeps of anger. The storm raged, it's victims unable to escape a vicious saturating. Pearl decided now was the best and only moment to go. "One likes to provoke debate, Wanda," he said as he put his coat on. "It's such a dull world, don't you think?" He left the Jolly Troubadours with that thought and threw himself to the mercy of the deluge. Patrick was distracted by the one armed bandit and didn't see him leave.
11 (May)
The band had given Wallet a nickname: Worker B. He wanted to believe it was affectionate, but he knew he wasn't fully part of their world yet; he was still the feeder, the errand boy, going out most nights to gather blood and take it back to the nest. He had the responsibility of guiding the comeback, using those 'contacts' he liked to boast about; most of them had turned out to be nothing more than strangers' phone numbers and part time acquaintances who had forgotten him a long time ago. Let's face it, Jan Moencker had found him and the band were aware of it. Wallet may have been steering the ship, but he wasn't the captain.
Tonight he took the opportunity to call at the band's office to check the post. They had arranged to rent the first floor rooms on Zaagmolenstraat in Rotterdam from a local businessman they knew from years back. There was the usual business junk mail in a sloppy pile behind the door, but amongst the litter lay a large manilla envelope addressed to him care of the Rotterdam address. It must have been intended for his flat in London before being redirected by the Post Office. The envelope was marked HM Revenue and Customs. He opened it.
Dear Mr Wallet
I am writing to inform you of income tax and National Insurance contributions that are now outstanding. It is my belief that the individual members of the music band Toten Herzen may be owing taxes to HM Revenue and Customs dating back to 1977. As you may currently be their appointed agent I am writing to you to make the necessary arrangements for them to settle their accounts in order to bring their tax situation in the UK up to date.
You will be notified separately of any corporation tax and VAT that may also be outstanding on any companies and/or other organisations representing the band.
You can fill in a self assessment tax return online. I have attached an information sheet that explains how to do this. Owing to the complex nature of the band's financial affairs and the timescales involved I suggest you may wish to consider a specialist tax adviser to respond to this demand.
I have made estimated calculations on the individual accounts based on the most recent financial information available to me dated April 4th 1983. On this basis the following amounts may be due:
Denise Vincent£1 317 240.00
Susan Bekker£1 876 129.00
Elaine Daley£1 109 087.00
Rene van Voors£1 227 376.00
Please ensure this matter is dealt with urgently. HM Revenue and Customs will impose fines on any outstanding and late payments. May I remind you that tax evasion is a criminal offence and may be punishable by the seizure of assets and possibly prison sentences.
Pages 2 and 3 of this letter provide a detailed summary of the amounts and dates affected by this claim. If you require any further information please do not hesitate to contact me.
Yours sincerely
Harriet Summerbee
Revenue Investigations Manager
"A million quid. Fucking hell, they'll hit the roof." Wallet wondered why Susan's bill was bigger than the others then remembered she probably had her name on more publishing deals. But this couldn't be right. There was no record company, no deal, maybe some long lost royalties that had built up, but the band had been in Germany for the last thirty odd years. Wallet phoned Susan.
-
She was in a side room at the Mybuurg Grill restaurant in Utrecht feeding on a man who had approached her at a bar, all swagger and aftershave and no idea how offensive his tee-shirt was: 'keep calm and punch her.' Now her phone was ringing. She saw the caller's name. "Excuse me a moment," she said. The victim moaned and threw up again. "Yeah, what do you want, I've got my mouth full here."
"Did you lot pay any tax while you were in Germany?" Wallet asked.
"What?"
"You were still earning money from royalties and sales in all that time, did you keep your tax affairs up to date?"
"I can't believe you're asking me this right now. Harper dealt with all that. I presume so. Will you get off the phone? Why are you asking that anyway?"
"It's just that you've all got a tax bill for over a million pounds each."
"Well, pay it, ge
t someone to pay it or sort it out. Find an expert somewhere." She hung up. "You know," she said to the victim as his final moment floated away from him, "some people just live to bleed you dry. Do you know I've got a tax bill for a million pounds? A million! Are you dead?" The victim was silent and still. "Oh well fuck you then, forgive me for speaking."
Daily Mirror
Taxman Demands Pound of Flesh
Toten Herzen faced with five million pound tax bill
HMRC watches helplessly as the likes of Starbucks, Amazon, Google and a succession of utility companies walk away from paying their tax bill, but the British public can rest assured that another blood sucking load of parasites will not get off so lightly. Seventies shock rock band Toten Herzen have been ordered to pay individual tax bills of over a million pounds each.
A spokeswoman for Revenue and Customs said the bill goes back to the last recorded payments in the 1980s and may even be higher than the initial estimates. Toten Herzen's record label, the appropriately named Crass, folded in 1983, six years after the band made a hasty retreat to the not-so-offshore haven of Germany. With no management representation to handle their financial affairs it's uncertain just how much money the band made from continued royalties. Their worldwide record sales are estimated to be over five million copies. (Their music has never been released digitally.)
The bands spokesman, Rob Wallet, whose own journalistic career was in freefall, expressed his disappointment at the band's tax affairs being made public. "We'll be asking why the band has been singled out in this way, when there are far more serious tax avoiders running around apparently untouchable. We're not trying to avoid the bill, the four members of the band have been living outside the UK for the last thirty five years and will be happy to explain and settle any outstanding debts. Who knows maybe we could set an example for some of the other leeches trying to get out of paying what they owe."
We Are Toten Herzen (TotenUniverse Book 1) Page 6