Chapter 84
In the morning, Thurstan called into murder control and caught up on events. A quick meeting concluded if their suspect was not already in custody by 1800 hours the warrant should be executed on his sister’s house. He’d most probably be in, at tea time they usually were.
With a bit of time on his hands, he’d decided to catch up on something else.
Stepping out of the car, he took the carrier bag from the back seat and walked across a narrow strip of freshly mown grass. It had suddenly turned chilly and dark clouds filled the sky. The short garden path led to a little box-like bungalow and a brass coloured door knocker. He rapped it twice then turned, casually surveying the street. Nothing moved other than a small red car which pulled into the kerb, in the distance. He was about to knock again when the door opened.
“Mister Kamiński. It’s me again I’m afraid. Sorry to bother you. May I come in? I’ve brought you some things.” He held up the bag. The old man smiled at him and beckoned. “Please do, Chief Inspector.” Closing the door he shuffled to the sitting room. “You’re very clever, you managed to find me. I would have called you but I had some problems with my phone, you understand.
“So, what do you think of the place? I have known bigger but at my age, it is enough.” He waved his hand dismissively and laughed.
Thurstan nodded and smiled. The place was furnished and carpeted, cheaply, but nevertheless.
Hirek took the bag and looked inside. “Ha! You must be a mind reader, Chief inspector. Just what I need. A cup of tea? Yes, I think so. Please excuse me, one moment.” He disappeared into the kitchen and Thurstan heard the usual sounds of preparation.
Hirek returned and looked at him expectantly. “So, what can I do for you, Chief Inspector? I can tell this isn’t just a social call.”
He took a deep breath. “I won’t beat about the bush. There are one or two things don’t seem to add up and I’m not sure you’re telling me everything.” A sympathetic smile as he said, quietly, “For one thing, I don’t think you’re exactly who you say you are.”
He laughed. “Chief Inspector! You are full of surprises, I have to say. What makes you think that, anyway?”
“I received a reply to an enquiry I made. It seems no one’s heard of you in Slough, particularly no one from the Polish community. So, where does the truth lie, Mister Kamiński?”
The kettle whistled. Hirek gave him a warm smile. “I must get that. We will have a nice cup of tea and then I think it is time I told you everything. You deserve to know. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.”
Thurstan nodded and smiled. “Do want me to give you a hand?”
“No, no. I can manage just fine. I will only be a second.”
He idly scanned the room again, noticing a suitcase partially hidden behind the sofa. He was still evaluating that when excruciating pain surged through every muscle in his body collapsing him into the carpet. He lay, trembling on the floor groaning; the only words he could utter were, “Oh! Fuck!”
“Do not move, Chief Inspector.”
He looked up, Hirek Kamiński looked down; a Taser in his hand.
He quickly tried to trace the wires back to his body, thinking he could pull them out but more agonising pain left him fighting for breath.
“I told you do not move.” They stared at each other for several seconds. Thurstan broke the spell. “Where the fuck did you get that?”
Kamiński released a sly grin. “Oh, you can get almost anything you want here if you have the money and the right connections. So, you want to know things, Chief Inspector? Ok, I will let you into some little secrets but first, put these on.”
Another burst of searing pain then Thurstan felt something being dropped into his hand. Black cable ties, ready looped.
“Put them on your ankles and then your wrists. Do it now!” More pain. Thurstan was struggling to see beyond the tears. He looped a cable over his feet and pulled it closed.
“Put it on your hands.” Hirek pointed at the other. “Pull it tight with your teeth. Make sure it is tight or you know what will happen.” Thurstan did as he was told.
Kamiński bent down and yanked the plastic cuffs tighter, swiftly patted the DCI down, removed his mobile and threw it in the corner of the room.
He pulled a chair from beneath the little half dining table that was pressed against the wall and sat down.
“What do you want to know?” He was smiling. “Let me see. What was that game? Twenty questions? Yes, that was it.” His face straightened. “You can have five.”
The DCI’s head was spinning, the plasticuffs cutting into his wrists. He stared up as he fought for clarity. Hirek Kamiński’s friendly, fatherly countenance had vanished. Thurstan could barely recognise the man in front of him. Eventually, “Who are you really?”
“I thought, perhaps, you knew already but were playing a game with me. I see not.” He sighed. “I was born Gerhard Hegner but I can be whoever you want. What you want is what you will see.”
“Why?”
He laughed. “What kind of question is that? Why? Why what? It doesn’t count. I will give you that one back. Try again and do not waste my time.” He waved the taser at him.
His mind was racing. Suddenly he had a moment of lucidity and realisation. “It was you! You killed him!”
Another laugh and a wag of his finger. He leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Yes, it was me. Your second question, I know, is why did I do it? Simply because he knew I was not Hirek Kaminski. He’d still be alive today if he hadn’t heard me spelling my name for that stupid girl in the supermarket. She was so insistent I have some card, for discount, then he stuck his big nose in.” He shook his head.
“I knew it was a problem as soon as he said his name was Shmuel. Hirek spoke fondly of him to me. So, I let him talk and I make suitable noises. I say a few things and he fills in the gaps. It seemed to work. Sometimes, he does not remember what he has told me and when I mention them he thinks they are my recollections. For a while, I am thinking I will get away with it, but, one day, the talk came to our camp numbers. He showed me his and asked if I still had mine. I told him what I told you. I do not know what the problem is but things changed after that. He tried not to show it, but when he asked me to give him back the spare keys he had given to me, then I knew the game was up and I would have to kill him before he told someone.”
He got up, went to the sideboard and took out a bottle and filled a tumbler. “Apple schnapps. I would offer you some but there is not enough left.”
He sat down again and took a mouthful. “I have more in a little flask but it is in my coat in the hall. I do not think it would be wise, would it? To leave on your own? No, I think not.”
He paused whilst he drank more schnapps.“You would like to know how I did it. I can see this, it’s on your face. Well, I had been with him to his Doctor’s when he got his prescription.”
Thurstan interrupted. “You swapped his tablets! And you came back and smothered him!”
Hegner laughed. “Oh! The big detective now. A bit too late, I think. Yes, it was easy. I phoned them a few days later, said I had lost it and, if they could give me another, my friend I was with the other day would pick it up. Then I altered it to be for the higher dose. One foreign accent is like another to you English, I think.
“I copied the certificate, wrote the signatures and produced another which I made out for the spray, you know, you spray it in the mouth.” He made the motions. “I went to two different chemists. No questions, no problems then I printed the packet with the new information showing it was half strength of his normal dose and glued it to an empty packet I took from his bin. It is amazing what you can do in a Library, Chief Inspector.
“That day, I go and visit him. We were still playing the game, you understand, pretending nothing is wrong. I swap the packets.” He paused. “He had told me all about his bad dreams, because of what they did in the forests; the cries and the begging for mercy. The tablets were the only thing that kept them away. You see, he could take being a victim but what was eating his soul was the discovery he was no different than any of them.” He gave a scornful laugh and tapped his chest. “Any of us!” He waved his hand, dismissively. “He was weak! None of this has ever bothered me!”
The schnapps was making him talkative. “Later in the night, I went back. I had a plan, in case the tablets had not worked, that is why I took the rope. Plan B. Always essential to have a plan B, Chief Inspector. I would have strangled him with the rope and hung it and him from the door handle or his bedstead.” He thought he saw Thurstan’s question.
“Yes, you want to know how I got in without the keys, I think? I had a copy of his door keys made before I give them back.” He looked pleased with himself.
“Anyway, he woke up but.... he was very sleepy. I encouraged him to take more tablets. I confused him, it did not take much. Then I sat and watched him drift off. Just to be sure, I used the spray into his mouth. I waited and had a nice glass of schnapps and after a while, it was time. Yes, I smothered him. He never resisted. He did not even wake up. After, I arranged everything, tidied up the things I used and changed the packets back. It was simple.”
A smile. “I am very good at this sort of thing. I have had a lot of practice. Ach! It is no time to be modest.” He laughed.
Thurstan managed to prop himself up against the couch. “What happened to the real Hirek Kamiński?”
“I killed him. I needed his identity,” he said matter of factly, then chuckled. “We met in the local burger bar. I had gone there with the wrong jacket, no money, would you believe. He was behind me and kindly gave me the money to save my embarrassment. He suggested we sit together. I owed him, I couldn’t refuse, could I? It would have been impolite. Of course, being of our age, he talked about the war and wanted to know my story.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Now, was I going tell him I was SS, in the East? Of course not! So, I told him I had been in the German Army, working in the stores, but was all the time in France until arrested because a relative was involved in the plot against Hitler. Credible, I think and so did he. It is amazing the things people will believe if you look sympathetic enough and I am an old hand at it.
“He had changed his name, many years before. Hieronim Kaminski was now Jerome Stone. Hirek became Jerry. Anyway, he was an American citizen with a new passport and had plans for a trip to Europe, something he had wanted to do for a long time but his late wife was not good with travelling. The icing on my cake? He had no children, no relatives and only a few loose associates he called friends. It was perfect for me, as perfect as it was going to be in the circumstances. Of course, I knew it wouldn’t be too long before someone missed him so, once I got here, Jerry disappeared and out came Hirek. Only one of his friends knew of Hirek and he lived on the other side of the country now.”
He looked into his glass as he swirled the contents around. “For a Pole, he wasn’t so bad. I liked him. But ... what could I do? People were asking questions again and I needed to move on.” Another sip of schnapps. “I was a long time with the CIA, you see.” Bewilderment passed across Thurstan’s face, then a sudden hidden recollection of a dismissed conversation.
He snorted. “Ha! You did not know this. Perhaps I have overestimated your abilities, Chief Inspector. Well, it seems I still had friends. I do not know who but someone was telling me these things. So, Hirek’s time was over.” Another sip. “He liked to use his metal detector. I went with him several times, they were always pleasant days.” He smiled at the memory.
“When I knew what had to be done, I told him I was told of this place out in the desert where there were old coins buried. He did not take much convincing. I drove him out there, hit him with a rock and strangled him. I used his own shovel to bury him, near where I had buried the other one, the private detective; he wanted money to keep his mouth shut. I shut it permanently.”
A desperate plan flooded the DCI’s brain. The man had no compunction about killing, so much was obvious. If he could get to his feet perhaps he could head butt Hegner, make it to the front door and launch himself into the street; he could still use his hands after all. He eyed the window. Maybe he could get the momentum up to throw himself through it? Somehow he didn’t think so. How was he going to get to his feet anyway? He hadn’t a clue. It was quite a shit plan but it was all he had. He needed more time.
“The FBI will catch you. It’s not just the murders. It’s what you did in the war. You weren’t just in the SS, were you?”
“All of a sudden you know everything.” He waggled his finger as if scolding a child.“No one likes a clevers clog, Thurstan.” More schnapps. “I was SD. You have heard of this, I think?”
Thurstan nodded.
“Not from the start, you understand. First, I joined the SS when I was eighteen. Those were the days.” He grinned widely. “After training, I was sent to the First SS Infantry Brigade. This was a special unit. Most were camp guards who had volunteered but I and some others got in because our fathers or uncles had been camp guards from the early days. We were part of Einsatzgruppe C. Important work. Hard work. It wasn’t easy but we did it because it had to be done. I was keen to get on, youthful exuberance, and my work was recognised with promotions. I got myself a reputation.”
He sniffed the contents of the tumbler; a look of satisfaction on his face. Another mouthful. “You know, I was personally recommended for the SD. Obersturmbannführer Haensch, my commanding officer. A proud moment. By forty-four, I was working for Eichmann himself.” A wistful smile played across his lips.
“I was with him in Hungary when we were lucky to get out before the Russians took Budapest. It was a privilege to work for that man.” His pride was evident.
A wag of his forefinger. “Now, you have run out of questions. Enough is enough.”
What had he got to lose? “Were you never caught, after the war?”
He laughed, his vanity and alcohol getting the better of him. “Careful planning, Chief Inspector. I made preparations, I made sure I had the connections and Eichmann and I had the money, some diamonds and gold. We hadn’t wasted our time in Hungary. We made the Jews pay to get on those transports to Switzerland and they paid us well. They knew the value of their lives.
“Eichmann should have followed the plan but he was too arrogant; taking instructions from a lower rank was beneath him and he allowed the other Officers to influence him as to the best way to evade, that’s how he got caught the first time; that and his SS tattoo. On the other hand, I never had the tattoo. I was given special leave for my father’s funeral the day they were marking them in training. When I came back no one asked me to have it done and I didn’t volunteer. I am AB blood group; I can have anyone’s, so what do I care?”
He leaned forward thoughtfully, waving the taser casually. “You know, I never saw the point of a tattoo under the arm. What if your arm got blown off? What good was it then? No, far better it be on your chest. If you lose that then you do not need the blood anyway.”
He smirked, downed the last of the schnapps, stood up, and placed his glass carefully on the table. He gave Thurstan another burst of taser before taking a brown bottle and a large pad from the sideboard. He stared down at him. “You know, Chief Inspector. I liked you as well.”
Another burst of the taser and before he knew what was happening the pad was over his mouth and nose. He tried to struggle but Hegner’s surprising strength prevented him. Slowly, he descended into the darkness.
Once satisfied, Gerhard Hegner ripped the barbs from Thurstan’s limp body, ejected the cartridge, reloaded another from the grip and stuffed the Taser into his coat pocket in the hall, returning to collect his suitcase. He threw the pad and bottle in the bin and took a container of petrol from the outside cupboard, next to the back door.
With a sense of urgency, he splashed its contents all over the furniture and carpet then the same in the bedroom and kitchen. He lit the rags one after another and threw them into each room, waiting only to see they had taken. Finally, he locked the living room, put on his coat and hat and, dragging the suitcase, slammed the front door behind him
A phone was ringing, it sounded familiar. Abruptly, he was free of the dark recesses of his head and could feel the heat as he coughed and spluttered in the smoke that billowed around him. Remembering a fire safety video he’d had to watch many years before, he lay flat on the floor, took another breath and crawled to the door, the base of which he could just see. Smoke hovered above him. He knelt and tugged the handle. Nothing. Again, harder now. No, he’d have to stand up. Another breath from the carpet. He was up, pulling furiously, only to fall backwards, dropping the handle on the floor. Panic gripped him. He spun round and began kicking the centre of the door panel, again and again and again. He lost all sense of time, no longer conscious of what he was doing.
Black, acrid, smoke enveloped everything. He didn't even know if he was breathing anymore and he no longer cared as a cloak of nothingness wrapped itself tightly around him.