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

a contactless reader. ‘I do not know how relevant they are.’

‘We’re looking into the Müller family,’ Bullman answered, grabbing a bottled water. ‘In particular, his father and his sister.’

‘His sister is a conversation all on its own,’ Margaret sipped at her drink as Monroe paid for his latte.

‘We’ve time for both conversations,’ Monroe replied. ‘So why is Rolfe in Hurley?’

‘He is on leave,’ with their drinks now purchased, Margaret walked over to a bench, sitting down on it. ‘There was a case, a violent one. Gang related, and incredibly traumatic. He was sent home, medical leave until he was allowed back.’

‘I know how that feels,’ Monroe muttered. Margaret either didn’t hear this or ignored it as she continued.

‘His sister, she visited him while he recovered. Next thing I know, she has then been hired as his assistant and he travels to England with her.’

‘Do detectives usually have assistants?’ Monroe asked. Margaret shook her head.

‘I believe he was helping her,’ she replied. ‘Ilse was fired by Bayer Ingelhelm, a pharmacy company in Munich. There was no severance pay, no period of transition. She was escorted out of the building the same day and was left with nothing.’

‘Do you know why she was fired?’ Bullman pulled out her notebook at this.

‘I heard rumours, nothing more. Something about unauthorised use of a trial medicine. She worked with products that were not yet released, and many that had side effects.’

‘Do you know what the name of it was?’ Bullman was writing into her notebook.

‘I am not psychic,’ Margaret smiled. ‘That is a question for Bayer Ingelhelm.’

‘Aye, we’ll get someone on that.’ Monroe was still staring at the watchtower as he sipped at his latte. ‘What do you know about the Ampelmännchen Killer?’

‘That it is a case that Rolfe cannot let go of,’ Margaret sipped at the espresso as she thought. ‘That it is a case that he believed his father had been connected to in some manner. Hauptmann Müller had not been a kind man, you see.’

‘Yeah, so we’ve been told,’ Monroe admitted. ‘In fact, we need to look into that while we’re here.’

‘I thought you might,’ Margaret reached into her handbag, pulling out a notebook. ‘This is the reason I suggested we talk here. If my superiors were to see me giving you this, I could lose my job.’

‘What is it?’ Monroe took the offered notebook, opening it to see pages of German writing.

‘Rolfe’s notes on his father’s work before the fall of the wall, and anything he’s discovered on the Ampelmännchen Killer,’ Margaret explained. ‘Including the names and addresses of the surviving guards who worked under his father.’

Bullman took the book from Monroe.

‘Impatient, much?’ he asked, annoyed.

‘I did German Language to A’Level,’ Bullman replied, already flicking through the pages. ‘Did you? Do you even know what these words mean?’

Monroe didn’t know and so he decided not to reply, instead turning back with a sulking expression to Margaret who, her espresso finished, was already rising from the bench.

‘I do not know what Rolfe is into, but it needs to stop, detectives. If you can hasten this, find what he needs for closure, then I am happy to help.’ She passed a business card to Monroe.

‘My number, if needed. And only if needed.’

Monroe nodded at this, placing the business card in his pocket. And, with a curt nod to Bullman, Margaret Li left the two detectives in the park.

‘One address for an old guard is less than a mile from here,’ Bullman said, checking a map app on her phone, ignoring Li as she left, engrossed already in the hunt. ‘I think we need to have a chat with them, see if they can corroborate what your German mechanic said about Müller.’

‘Agreed,’ Monroe rose from the bench, still obsessed with the watchtower. ‘And I need to drop Billy an email, get him to check into Ilse Müller’s sacking from Bayer Ingelhelm.’

‘Do you want to play tourist for a moment?’ Bullman asked, noting Monroe’s attention. He shook his head at this.

‘It’s just that it’s a reminder of a far worst time, and far worse people,’ he replied. ‘One of which still reaches out across the years to right now.’

‘God, man, can we stop with all the waxing poetical and just solve the case?’ Bullman grumbled. ‘No wonder people keep trying to kill you.’

‘That’s fair,’ Monroe replied as they left the park, on their way to find a one-time border guard.

19

Female of the Species

Anjli and De’Geer arrived at the Dew Drop Inn on De’Geer’s motorcycle; she’d told Declan that there were no cars to requisition, but in all honesty Anjli hadn’t even looked into it, far happier to ride on a police motorcycle. It was way more invigorating than pootling about in Billy’s Mini. And considering that De’Geer was built like a tank, Anjli also suspected that if anything actually hit them, it’d crumple against his torso.

‘I thought DI Walsh came here already?’ De’Geer asked as he removed his helmet. ‘Aren’t we doubling up?’

Anjli shook her head.

‘They examined the crossing, down the road,’ she replied. ‘The pub was forgotten.’

‘Looks like it isn’t open anyway,’ De’Geer said, pointing. Following the finger, Anjli could see that the pub was covered in scaffolding, a couple of construction workers on the upper levels. One worker however had noticed the police motorcycle, and was making his way over to them, pulling off his hard hat as he did so.

‘Can I help you?’ he shouted as he approached. Anjli nodded, stepping forwards. She didn’t pull out her warrant card; the vision of a police motorcycle arriving and ridden by a police officer in full uniform made that point blatantly clear.

‘I’m looking for someone to talk to about a night a couple of months back,’ she shouted back. ‘Any staff on site?’

‘I’m the manager,’ the man said as he reached them. ‘Kenny Styles. What’s this connected with?’

‘Car accident,’ De’Geer said, pointing back up the path. ‘Blue car, hit a tree, spun out of control.’

‘Sure, I remember that,’ Kenny