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

‘Ilse was yours?’

‘I hoped so. But in those days it was hard to confirm.’ He smiled. ‘If Meier had been black, it would have been easier.’

Declan declined to answer that, moving on.

‘When we spoke, you claimed you had taken the name Karl Schnitter when escaping Berlin in 1989.’

‘That is true.’

‘And that your name was originally Karl Meier.’

‘I never said that,’ Karl frowned, as if confused at the question. ‘I think you must have been confused as to what I said.’

Oh, you bastard.

‘Was it all a lie?’ Declan asked. ‘I’ve known you since I was a kid. How much of that was real?’

‘All of it,’ Karl replied. ‘Yet none of it. I was told by agents of your own government, and also by the American CIA, that when I turned informant against my old superiors, although I would have a blanket amnesty for all crimes I had committed under my real name, to stay known by it would create reprisals. Better to run and hide in a lie.’

‘Convenient answer, when there’s no way to prove the truth.’

Karl nodded.

‘I am sure there are official records of my agreements in many places,’ he smiled. ‘But then again, what is truth?’

‘The truth is that you’re a monster,’ Declan snapped. ‘Sixteen, seventeen bodies, all by your hand. My mum. Nathanial Wing. Karl Meier. Craig Randall. The list goes on.’

‘I know the list,’ Karl replied. ‘I helped your father with it. But all we found was the truth, that these were just suicides, of people who wanted a way out, and who found a death cult that they could follow. The Red Reaper.’

‘I have a witness that says Craig Randall wasn’t alone before he died.’

‘His sister. A child. From a distance, a decade ago,’ Karl nodded. ‘Your father saw her testimony, even though then-DI Freeman never took the statement seriously.’

‘So she’s a liar?’

‘No, Declan. She’s a child.’ Karl leaned back in the chair and seemed to be genuinely enjoying this. ‘Craig Randall was a rapist. Dotty Brunel killed animals for sport, Nathanial Wing a liar and a debtor, and Rolfe Müller a murderer.’

‘Murderer?’

‘Of course,’ Karl nodded. ‘Did he not confess to Wing’s murder? And he tried to hang me also, remember?’

‘So the others were murdered?’

‘I believe they were, by Meier,’ Karl replied, holding up a hand. ‘Yes, I know he is dead and buried, but it was a confusing time. People were rioting. There was confusion everywhere, records being burned. If I escaped, then so could he.’

Declan was getting flustered now. He could feel the vibration on his phone; a message. Pulling it out, he looked at the words on the screen.

Your daughter is very sweet when sleeping.

He looked up to Karl who smiled, placed a finger to his lips and pointed to the recorder.

The bastard knew what the message said.

‘Do not make these people into martyrs,’ Karl continued. ‘And do not continue on this Quixotic quest like your father. You have me on my true identity, and I have admitted that. However, that is not cause for arrest, and more importantly at best can only cause me to be extradited home, or given a new identity elsewhere. Do you know the definition of a criminal?’

‘Someone who commits a crime.’

‘And how is that decided? That they did indeed commit that crime?’

‘They’re found guilty.’

‘Exactly,’ Karl clapped his hands together. ‘A criminal is a man who is proven to have committed a crime. Which, dear Declan, has not happened.’

‘Monster,’ Declan whispered. ‘All this time, you’ve lived in plain sight.’

‘Because I have had nothing to hide,’ Karl shrugged, looking up to the camera. ‘Although I am concerned with this continual harassment. Is it anti-German? Something from your time in the army? I heard from Ilse that you called Rolfe a Nazi in the middle of a bar.’

‘I did no such thing!’ Declan rose from the chair now, furious.

Karl smiled wider now. ‘What would your superiors say?’

‘I’ll keep hunting you,’ Declan hissed. ‘Even if they close this down, I’ll find a way to make you pay.’

Karl nodded at this, as if expecting it. ‘And others will suffer for your arrogance,’ he replied. ‘How many more will lose their jobs, following you down this rabbit hole? It’s over, Declan. Allow it to die.’ He smiled.

‘Just like your father did.’

Declan moved forward at this, his hands reaching out, but the door opened, and DCI Freeman stormed into the room.

‘This ends now,’ he said, turning off the recording and facing Declan. ‘I gave you a chance because you said you had something. All you have is a man who changed his name.’

‘A war criminal!’

‘Not our war!’ Freeman shouted back. ‘If Berlin want him so bad, they can get him!’

‘They tried,’ Declan hissed. ‘Rolfe Müller, remember?’

‘Your own people proved that Rolfe Müller was acting on his own cognition and was AWOL from his post.’

Karl coughed; a polite one.

‘I have no issues with Declan,’ he said as Freeman looked to him. ‘I would be the same. It is a testament to his skill and his ability, his passion for justice that he has gotten this far, even if he has lost his way.’

‘Thank you for your understanding, Karl,’ Freeman replied. ‘I hope that this doesn’t cause any problems down the line.’

‘Not at all,’ Karl smiled. ‘I wondered if I could have a private word with him? Maybe a conversation without recording devices and cameras may be more fruitful? I would like to explain my situation with your government, explain how I am, as you say, untouchable?’

‘Of course,’ Freeman nodded, looking to Declan. ‘When this is over, you can go home, back to London, whatever you want, but you’re barred from this Crime Unit. Understand? All debts are paid.’

Declan nodded as Freeman left the room.

The CCTV camera’s red light winked off.

‘And they were all alone,’ Karl muttered with a sly smile. ‘Did you really think I would give in so easily? That I had not spent thirty years ensuring that my life was beyond reproach? I can return to Berlin as