Whisper For The Reaper by Jack Gatland (best motivational books for students txt) 📗

was bloody impressive,’ Monroe said to the gravestone as he left it, following Müller at a distance, passing through the hedgerow that led to the grounds next door, and the remains of Hurley Priory; in particular the crypt that was not only once underneath it, but still in existence, hundreds of years later. It was more commonly known as Old Ladye Place Crypt, and it was where the ghost of the Grey Lady was supposed to haunt. Well, one of them, anyway. The village seemed to be infected with bloody Grey Lady ghosts.

Entering the crypt itself was easy; the building that had been above it was long gone now, and the ruined crypt, although covered, was open to the elements in several places. It was built as most crypts were; pillars in the ground arched up to the ceiling, creating effective and open arched passages, about eight feet high at the apex. Once known as ‘the vault’, there were several spaces, all connected by pillars, with gaps of around twelve feet or more between them. It smelled of mildew, of wet stone, and Monroe had to force himself not to sneeze as he entered it. He didn’t need a torch, as the light from outside was shining through, and it was easy to see about. In fact, this felt more akin to standing under a bridge than it did standing in a crypt.

In the corner, Rolfe Müller was watching him.

‘I come here twice a day,’ he said. ‘Such a forgotten place, with such history. It is beautiful, is it not, Detective Chief Inspector Monroe?’

Monroe was impressed at Rolfe Müller’s knowledge of his identity, but assumed that this had come from simple homework rather than anything else. ‘I don’t know the history here,’ he admitted.

Unsurprised, Müller waved a hand around.

‘This was where they plotted to bring William of Orange to England, to create a new king in a bloodless coup,’ he said. ‘It is also where Princess Edith, sister of King Edward the Confessor was buried, when this was a Benedictine Priory.’

‘Oh aye?’ Monroe was mildly impressed by this. ‘Do we know where?’

‘No,’ Müller shook his head. ‘Maybe where you stand right now. There is supposed to be a tunnel here too, one that goes directly to The Olde Bell.’

‘Why would you need a secret tunnel here?’

Müller shrugged. ‘If you plan to overthrow a king, perhaps you need to keep your arrival secret?’ he looked around. ‘I have searched here several times, but cannot find the tunnel. I think it is a myth, a joke to play with tourists. Is there a reason you followed me here, Detective Chief Inspector?’

‘Aye,’ Monroe nodded. ‘We have some questions for you. I know you’ve been interested in our case, and by now you know what we’re doing.’

‘Investigating the death of Nathanial Wing,’ Müller replied. ‘I assume you want to know why I met with him a day before he died.’

This surprised Monroe. He’d expected Müller to be evasive, not jump directly to the point. ‘Aye, I would laddie,’ he said. ‘Maybe we could leave this bloody place too while we talk? It damn near gives me the creeps.’

Müller smiled and exited the crypt with Monroe, walking back into the churchyard.

‘It was to do with my case,’ he explained.

‘And what exactly is your case again?’ Monroe pressed. ‘I heard something about a war criminal.’

‘That is correct,’ Müller seemed unconcerned still. It was irritating Monroe. ‘A man who killed many people during his time as a border guard.’

‘Border guard, or border Captain?’ Monroe asked. ‘I mean, I believe your father, Wilhelm Müller, has been missing for a few years now. Are you hunting him?’

This shook Müller, and Monroe saw the slight twitch of an eyelid as he stayed silent.

Aye, you wee little bugger; we do our research too.

Encouraged, Monroe pushed on. ‘And are you really on an international case, or are you just AWOL? Absent without leave, eh, laddie? You gone off the reservation here? If I was to speak to your superiors in Berlin, would I find you were on administrational leave, or holiday perhaps?’

‘Good luck with that,’ Müller simply stated. ‘It is very hard to speak to my superiors by phone or email.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Monroe grinned. ‘I’ll be in Berlin myself tomorrow, so I’ll go speak to them personally.’

Müller hadn’t been expecting this answer, and he faltered as he replied. ‘I am no threat to your investigation.’

‘Yeah? Then prove it,’ Monroe snapped. ‘Tell me why you spoke to Nathanial Wing, and more importantly told him that his days were numbered, less than a day before he died.’

Rolfe Müller thought about this before replying.

‘You are a superior officer, and I respect that,’ he spoke carefully. ‘So I will explain, as I can see why that could look incriminating. But, be aware that my investigation is different to yours.’ He stopped, as if working out the words. ‘I had been led to Mister Wing by a source that claimed that he was a computer expert. A man who could hack into hard drives. And I had a hard drive that needed to be unlocked.’

‘Whose?’

Müller ignored the question. ‘He promised repeatedly that he could do this, but constantly let me down. On the night we spoke, he demanded more money, and told me he had another buyer. I said he would get it, only if he hurried with the task in hand. I told him he was running out of time, because we return to Germany soon.’

Monroe considered this.

‘And where were you and your sister the night Nathanial Wing died?’ he asked.

‘I was in my room, reading,’ Müller replied calmly. ‘My sister was out. She likes to walk along the Thames. She finds that this soothes her.’

‘So neither of you have alibis or witnesses?’

‘Are we suspects here, Detective Chief Inspector?’ Müller was still calm as he asked. Monroe nodded.

‘Aye, laddie. I think you both are,’ he said. ‘And your whole reason for being here seems a little suss.’

‘Let me give you a hypothetical situation