The Kammersee Affair
Page 45
“I took these from those men, those murdered soldiers, all of those years ago,” he said. “Just before we gently placed their bodies into the lake.”
He stopped and looked at the Major. “Bartelli wanted to give them a proper burial. But we never had the time. I just said a few words from the New Testament, the twenty third Psalm that’s all. They seemed fitting at the time.”
He took hold of the top set of tags and moved it toward the centre of the table. As he did so he started to speak. “Sergeant Gunther ….” His voice faltered.
“Sergeant Gunther Mueller,” said Lucy, giving the names and details that she had heard so often, and knew so well. “Service number 48721086, date of birth 22nd of November 1921.”
She picked up one of the tags, and turned it over. “On the back it merely states Bremen 1940,” she said. “We don’t know exactly what that means.”
She put the tag back down. Then she moved the next set of tags into the centre of the table. “Corporal Josef Grumman. Service number 68752223. Date of birth 5th of May 1924,” she said. “Once again on the back of one of the tags is simply the word Bremen 1943.”
“They all have the word Bremen, and a date,” said Kadowski, now fully composed. “We think it must be the place and date that they were inducted into the army. Or perhaps when they joined their regiment?”
Lucy moved on to the third set. “Private Michel Hammel. Service number 44437692. Date of birth 14th of August 1927.” She stopped, he was only eighteen years old, she thought. She turned the tag over. “Bremen 1945,” she said. “He had only just become a soldier, and then to be murdered by one of his own.” She started to cry.
“The last one,” said Kadowski, picking the tags up. “Private Albert Prinz. Service number 44682315. He was only nineteen years old, and he became a soldier in 1944.”
Kadowski looked at Lucy, and took her hand. “I had intended to find out more about them, but, well, you know. I never got around to it. Things happened. I didn’t know how to go about it, anyway. Where would I have started? I know nothing about those poor guys. Where did they come from? What about their families? Were they married? Did they have children?”
Kadowski handed the tags to the Major. “I hope that these will help you find out about them,” he said.
The Major stared at the tags, and then up at Kadowski. He said nothing, but the gleam in his eyes said a heartfelt thank you. He then carefully placed them inside his briefcase. “Well that takes care of that part of it,” he said, his voice breaking up with emotion. “We should be able to identify them now. And a search of the captured documents, and those that you recovered from the test centre, should turn up even more information. I’m sure that we can now find the relatives, and tell them what happened to their loved ones.”
This had been a real good day. He went over the whole matter in his mind. It’s been quite a story. Maybe we can get Bannister to write it. The Major then shook his head. No, on second thoughts, perhaps the story is best left unsaid.
There was just one more item remaining, thought the Major. One more thing to attend to, and then my task is completed.
“You will be pleased to know that we have been in contact with Roberts’ widow,” the Major said. “She now knows the full details relating to his death, and the whereabouts of his final resting place.”
“His widow?” said Kadowski. That old tear returning once more to his eye. “Roberts was married?”
He turned his chair to face away from the Major, and looked out of the window. The sky was overcast, and light flurries of snow were beginning to fall. “I never knew,” he said. “He never said anything about being married, not a word.” There was a huge smile on his face, as tears filled both eyes, and he silently cried uncontrollably. He closed his eyes, as he remembered. He would never forget those few days spent at the lakes. He could see it all so clearly. But, now he could put it all behind him.
EPILOGUE
In 1963, following the tragic death of an amateur diver, the Austrian authorities clamped down on unofficial searches of the area around Toplitzsee. The lake was sealed off, and no unauthorised access was allowed. Shortly afterwards the authorities commenced their own official investigation. They carried out a thorough search of Lake Toplitzsee, and the surrounding area. In December 1983 it was declared that the search had been completed. Officially, it was stated that a full investigation had been carried out, and that it was concluded that there was no evidence of any gold bullion in Lake Toplitzsee.
It is interesting to note that the official report, prepared by the authorities, made no mention of Lake Kammersee ………..
THE END
Kendall could just see the television screen. There was a photograph of Governor Frank Reynolds. Across the bottom of the screen the ticker tape announced in large black letters 'Governor Reynolds Murdered'. The voice over was filling in whatever detail was available. Apparently his body had been discovered earlier that morning. He had been found lying in his garage. He had been shot twice. One shot to the upper chest, the other hitting his shoulder. 'Police believe that the weapon used was a 38 mm caliber revolver,' the reporter said. Kendall froze. Anthony Shaw had also been killed by a 38 mm bullet. Kendall was not quite sure of what it all meant. What connection was there between Anthony Shaw, and the State Governor, and the business mogul, Ian Duncan? And what about Senator Mackenzie? Where did he fit in? And who or what was Latimer? Only a short while ago Kendall was a small time private detective, a Private Eye, investigating an insignificant little murder with no clues, no witnesses, and no motive. In fact, no nothing. Now he had so many pieces of a puzzle he didn't know how they fitted together. He didn't even know if they all came from the same puzzle.
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The Marinski Affair began as a dull mundane case involving a missing husband. Okay, so he was a rich missing husband, but he was nonetheless, still only a missing husband. The case soon developed into one involving robbery, kidnapping, blackmail and murder. But was there really a kidnapping? And exactly who is blackmailing who? Who actually carried out the robbery? Who committed the murders? Who can you trust? Who can you believe? Is anyone actually telling the truth? What have they got to hide? And what connection was there with a jewel theft that occurred four years previously? All is not as it seems. Tom Kendall, private detective, had the task of solving the mystery. He was usually pretty good at solving puzzles, but this one was different, somehow. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any of the pieces. Oh no, he wasn’t short of clues. It was just that none of the pieces seemed to fit together.
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‘To make a killing in the City’ is a phrase often used within the financial world, to indicate making a large profit on investments, or through dealings on the stock market - the bigger the profit, the bigger the killing. However, Tom Kendall, a private detective, on holiday in London, has a different kind of killing in mind when he hears about the death of one of his fellow passengers who travelled with him on the plane from Miami. It was suicide apparently, a simple overdose of prescribed tablets. Kendall immediately offers his help to Scotland Yard. He is shocked when he is told his services will not be required. They can manage perfectly well without him, thank you.
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Tom Kendall, a down to earth private detective, is asked to investigate the death of a young newspaper reporter. The evidence shows quite clearly that it was an accident: a simple, dreadful accident. That is the finding of the coroner and the local police. Furthermore, there
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On the night of April 14th 1865 President Abraham Lincoln was attending a performance at The Ford Theatre, in Washington. A single shot fired by John Wilkes Booth hit the President in the back of the head. He slumped to the floor, and died a few hours later without recovering consciousness. Was Booth a lone assassin? Or was he part of a wider conspiracy? What if Booth had merely been a willing party to a plot to replace Lincoln with General Ulysees S. Grant. Let us suppose that Booth had been set up by a group of men, a group of Lincoln’s own Army Generals; Generals who had wanted Ulysees S Grant for their President, and not Lincoln. And let us also suppose that the funding for the assassination had come from gold stolen by the Confederate Army.
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Tom Kendall had been with the 32nd Precinct, New York Police Department for just under ten years. But now he wanted a change. Now he wanted to start his own Private Detective Agency. He had grand ideas. He wasn’t interested in just any old case. Oh no, he would handle only the big time cases, the expensive ones.
He would be able to take his pick, the ones that he wanted, where the stakes were high and so were the rewards. He knew exactly the kind of case that he wanted. Anything else would not do, and it would just be turned down flat.
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