Whisper For The Reaper by Jack Gatland (best book series to read TXT) 📕

There was a moment of silence, and Rolfe tore his eyes from the sausage, turning his face and round framed glasses to stare at Declan.

‘Did you call me a Nazi?’ He asked in an almost hissed tone. Declan smiled.

‘No, he was a Nazi. Rolfe. In The Sound of Music,’ he said. Before Rolfe could reply, Declan looked at his watch. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m late for a meeting,’ he said, glancing back to Jess, across the room. ‘Enjoy Hurley, though. It’s a beautiful, quiet village.’

‘It is maybe not that quiet though, yes?’ Rolfe smiled. ‘I mean to say, you have a body on a golf course, your own house was broken into, and your father’s computer stolen? And your terrorist adventure last week? As I said, we know all about you.’

Declan looked around the room, idly wondering how many witnesses would see him punch Rolfe, before deciding against this and looking back down.

‘Don’t worry about the body,’ he smiled. ‘We’re looking into that. Hunting a serial killer, in fact. German chap. And we’ll catch him. I’m sure if we have questions you’ll be around, right?’

And with that line left hanging, Declan walked back to Jess, motioning for her to follow him out of the dining room.

‘What was that all about?’ she asked. Declan shrugged.

‘Inter police relations,’ he replied, noting that PC De’Geer was standing by the main entrance. ‘You lost?’

‘They sent me to find you,’ De’Geer said. ‘They were worried you’d gotten lost.’

‘Making friends,’ Declan subtly showed Rolfe and Ilse Müller. ‘What do you know about them?’

‘The German police? They arrived two weeks ago, and have been pissing everyone around off royally since,’ De’Geer replied. ‘Why? Do you want them arrested for something? Half of Maidenhead want them arrested.’

‘Just find me all you can on them,’ Declan watched Rolfe and Ilse talk; it was a heated exchange. ‘There’s something more there. And their surname is too exact to be a coincidence.’

‘Sir?’ De’Geer, having not yet been informed of Declan’s meeting with Karl, or the contents thereof, looked confused at this. Declan turned back to him.

‘Were you involved at all in the break in at my house a week or so back? The one through the back window?’

‘No,’ De’Geer shook his head. ‘But I know of it. Your computer was stolen.’

‘My computer?’

‘Yes,’ De’Geer looked to Jess. ‘Is that wrong?’

‘No,’ Declan replied. ‘The report said my iMac was stolen, but it was actually my dad’s computer.’ He looked back to Rolfe, now attacking his breakfast with military precision.

How had he known that the iMac was Patrick Walsh’s?

Jess nudged him and, returning to the present, he smiled, leading De’Geer and Jess out of the dining room.

‘I’ll explain everything when we’re all together,’ he said. ‘Now, where’s the bloody Library?’

The Library turned out to be a charming little room in the Malthouse; oak-panelled walls gave way to bookshelves and a fireplace complete with white marble mantle, surrounding a large table in the middle. Half of the Library was lower than the other, obviously built onto the side of the unit at some point.

Wide, open windows, built into the wall above the drop in height shone light into the room, and two leather chairs sat beside a side cabinet and additional window that looked out into the garden. The hardwood floor led to the corner where a hand painted cocktail cabinet was positioned, and beside that were coffee and tea-making facilities, a plate of biscuits placed carefully beside the white cups.

‘I like this better than Temple Inn, laddie,’ Monroe smiled from one of the chairs by the window, the sun hitting his face as he basked in it. ‘I think we need to do some extra redecorating when they’re done.’

Declan grinned as he looked around the room at Monroe, Billy, Anjli and Doctor Marcos. ‘No Davey?’ He asked.

‘She’s at Maidenhead for me. Checking the body,’ Doctor Marcos replied. ‘Who’s the big chap?’

Declan introduced both PC De’Geer and Jess to the group, and then motioned for everyone to sit around the large, rectangular table in the middle.

‘Thanks for coming,’ he started as he stood at the end, facing them all. ‘We don’t have a fancy plasma screen or anything here, so Jess has made copies of the files. We have them as digital versions, if you prefer. I know Doctor Marcos already has them.’

Jess passed the papers around, and emailed the digital version to Billy, who’d already set up what looked to be a small computer system at the end of the table. As the group looked through them, Declan continued.

‘I’ll give you the cliff notes version before you get too deep,’ he said. ‘From 1990 to 2012, a dozen people died across Europe, from Berlin in Germany all the way to Hurley. Every other year, a body turned up.’

‘But the police didn’t think it was a serial killer,’ Billy asked as he read through the sheets on his screen. ‘I’m guessing because the evidence didn’t go that way.’

‘Exactly,’ Declan replied. ‘Forensic evidence seemed to reveal that each victim inflicted their own wounds. There were never signs of a struggle, and each victim, when checked into, had some kind of secret that could cause them to take their own life, whether it be something embarrassing, financial debt or even a crime.’ He looked through the pack at his side, showing a scan of a card, a red Ampelmännchen holding a scythe.

The calling card of the Red Reaper.

‘There were two things that stood out on each of these cases though,’ he continued, looking back to the team. ‘First, the weapon used was always missing. A gun, knife, even the chair the victim stood on to place the noose around their neck. All gone. And secondly? Each of them had one of these cards on them. An Ampelmännchen, an East German crossing man. And, each card was completely devoid of fingerprints except for the deceased, and always the same two prints in the same location.’

‘So it’s a German we’re looking