Ask the River by Dan Wheatcroft - HTML preview

Chapter 90

“Shouldn’t you still be in hospital?” Axl couldn’t help showing his genuine concern as he sat on the settee in the living room.

Softly stroking the back of Thurstan’s bandaged head, Lizzie replied with a resigned look on her face, “He refused. It’s all I can do to get him to take today off.”

Thurstan looked at Axl, ”I don’t like the observation wards. I’ve been in them before. You get stuck in there with all manner of strange people. Anyway, I’m fine. I’ll probably go back in to work tomorrow.”

She gave him a stern: “Oh no you won’t.”

Axl sipped his tea then put the cup down. “I’m sorry, Liz. I feel responsible, somehow.”

Thurstan smiled. “I wouldn’t bother if I were you. He was on my radar before we even met and by the way, he was a tricky fucker.”

Axl chuckled. “Well, I did say.” He was silent for a while then, “Listen, I’m sorry it took me so long to get to the bottom of all this.”

Thurstan accepted a cup from Lizzie. “Not your fault. With everything that’d been happening, I lost sight of what I needed to concentrate on. I broke a golden rule and because I actually liked what should have been my main suspect, I was blind to the fact. Even when I went to see him I never really ...” He sighed then fell silent and slowly shook his head. Lizzie went to get the biscuits.

“Well, I can’t help feeling he evaded justice again.” The FBI man picked up his cup and looked into it thoughtfully.

“Perhaps, though I suspect not.” Thurstan saw the question. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. Anyway, around here ‘killer potted by drunk driver’ still counts as a result.”

He took a mouthful of tea then said, “I hope you don’t mind, Axl, but I’ve got a couple of questions.”

The American nodded acceptance. “Sure.”

“Did you ever find out who was feeding you the information?”

He shook his head. “No, it looks like there were two sides of the same agency subtly manipulating things. One from a sense of loyalty to a friend and colleague and the other from a sense of ... justice, I suppose.”

Thurstan nodded sagely, hesitated then said, “There was something else.  It confused me and Hegner himself. He told me things were going well, he thought, until they discussed the Auschwitz tattoos. He said he knew then he’d have to kill him. Can you shed any light on that? I know you told me the real Hirek had his left arm missing below the elbow but it was an old work injury from his life in the States. Jack, or should I call him Shmuel, wouldn’t have known that. So what was the issue?”

“It was simply that Hirek Kamiński never had a tattoo on his left arm in the first place.”

Thurstan was puzzled. “So, he wasn’t at Auschwitz?”

“Oh, he was there alright. He was there much earlier than Shmuel. He was there when they stamped the tattoos on their chests.  I traced a friend of his; the only person Kamiński told this particular story. When they first met at the river, Shmuel, your Jack Buchanan, didn’t believe Hirek had been at Auschwitz because he couldn’t see a tattoo on his arm.  He asked him where it was because he suspected he was lying. That’s when Hirek showed him and explained. He must have remembered when Hegner tried to pass himself off. It rang the alarm bells, obviously, and that’s what frightened him.”

Thurstan sat back and sipped his tea. Poor old Jack. After everything he’d been through, he’d thought he’d been reunited with his friend only to find he was an imposter. He’d probably thought they’d come for him, retribution for his complicity in the TTG’s work in the forests.

They sat sipping from their cups. Lizzie put a plate of hobnobs and custard creams on the table.

Axl spoke first. “Did you find out who the guys in the car were that pulled you out?”

A little smile played across Thurstan’s lips. “Ah, yes. The little red mini. Something told me it was familiar when I saw it pull in further up the road. Can’t be certain, but I think I’d seen it before, somewhere, and from the descriptions the neighbours gave I think I know who they were.”

“Maybe if you put something in the papers they would come forward.”

Thurstan smiled. “It’s a thought but they never have before.” He caught Axl’s quizzical look. “It’s an ongoing thing. I’m fairly certain our paths will cross again, sometime.” A pale grin. “Biscuit?”