Indian Summer (9 page)

‘Anyone could have got hold of that gear, but we'll start with the
PT
guys who did the comic act on the trampolines,' said Tom heavily. ‘Jesus, they hold an Open Day, military discipline goes to hell and the garrison runs amok!
OK
, let's get back out there and clear some of the smokescreen so we can see a way forward. Priority is still to find Starr Keane. Next in line is to trace where Keane was actually killed. Once we have that we can concentrate on how the body was shifted to the tank, and why.'

‘My money's on the knight,' put in Piercey. ‘Ever see that film where the inspirational hero gets it, so they stick the dead man on a horse with a pole up his back and send him in at the head of the troops to demoralize the enemy?'

Tom glared at him. ‘You can question the clowns. You'll be at home with them.'

As they all began to disperse Max knew it was time he also departed. Tom could not
tell
him to bugger off, but it was clear he wanted shot of him. Tom was one of the old school who believed in discipline and respect of rank so, despite their long-standing friendship, he would be feeling hamstrung by Max's interference in a case he was perfectly capable of handling. Yet that jellyfish was so intriguing.

Tom was standing, car keys in his hand, ready to lock up and set off on further investigations. Max took the hint and walked with him to the car park.

‘Good luck with the clowns and jousting knights,' he said.

Tom waved an acknowledgement. ‘We'll have it wrapped up by the time you get back from your trip, clowns and knights notwithstanding. Enjoy your leave. Hope it works out for you both.' He drove off into the autumn darkness.

As Max followed the perimeter road he thought deeply about Tom's last remark. The two years he had spent here had been interesting and fulfilling. 26 Section was comprised of individuals who made the ideal team. They had been very successful, on the whole. Max thrived on puzzles, and there had been one or two intriguing cases interspersed between the more usual aspects of military life.

Before he had gone to the
UK
for his father's wedding the Section was involved in claims of sexual harassment, bullying in the swimming pool which led to near drowning, and evidence of drugs being circulated to young squaddies. Those cases were still ongoing, but the murder took precedence, of course. Max caught himself cursing that it should have taken place at a time when he was aiming to sort out his private life.

Driving through streets that grew busier with traffic as he neared the town, the difficulties facing him on that score were piled high. Livya had made no secret of her refusal to leave her position as his father's
ADC
, which meant Max would have to make the change. Loath though he was to leave 26 Section, would it even work if he did? Livya was dedicated to her career and, when the subject of babies came up, she had said perhaps later.

Max wanted children. His wife Susan had been pregnant when she was killed in a car smash. They had chosen a name for the boy, and Max sometimes fantasized about his son when he saw little ones together with their fathers. Alexander would have been four now. How good it would have been to play with him, teach him to catch a ball, ride a tricycle, build things. Max would have given him swimming lessons and taken him on the river in his skiff; let him wield a scull once he was strong enough to handle it.

He would be just as delighted with a daughter. Tom had three. Although he claimed to feel severely outnumbered by females in his home, Tom loved them all dearly. He was a lucky and happily fulfilled man. Max wanted to be like that. Loneliness was getting to him. He wanted someone to go home to; someone to hold close in the night. And he wanted small images of himself or their mother to raise and be proud of. If the strength of his feelings for Livya made him settle for less would he be like Philip Keane; an excellent soldier but a fool with women? Had that been Keane's undoing?

His hands-free phone rang to bring him from introspection. Drawing up behind a queue at the three-way junction, he answered it.

‘Good evening, Max. Here is Klaus Krenkel.'

‘Evening, Klaus. What can I do for you?' he asked, knowing he would have to pass the request to Tom.

‘It is what I do for you. I think I must tell this immediate to you; there is urgent in this. You have ask for where to find Mrs Stakeen, and also car belonging to her man. I have just now read a report from the traffic section. This car was smash this late morning. Very bad. It burn. Only now is possible to see the number. It is the one you ask for.'

The vehicle queue began to move forward, but the lights changed again before Max could cross. He braked, asking, ‘Who was in the car?'

‘One woman. Because there is fire there is no identity found. She had been taken to the hospital.'

Max's concern grew. ‘Any children in the vehicle?'

‘Moment!' Max heard the rustle of paper before the German policeman said, ‘There is no mention. Just one woman. This car comes out without enough looking to cross the autobahn at the junction of Mühlebachstrasse. One is dead. Seven badly hurt. There will be a charge taken against the woman.'

‘Right. Keep us up to date with that. Thanks, Klaus. I'll go to the hospital now. Wiedersehen.'

Only after he had turned right at the junction instead of crossing it did Max remember he was not supposed to be dealing with this case. He called Tom's mobile and explained that he was just five minutes from the hospital and would get whatever he could from the injured woman regarding the safety of her children.

‘They don't have proof of identification so she's probably out of it, at the moment. I'll get back to you on that, Tom. Krenkel said she drove straight out across the autobahn, so you can dismiss any notion of her being another victim of Keane's killer. Everything points to a normal RTA. Good thing is the kids weren't with her. I guess whoever's looking after them is anxious to know where Starr is by now.'

‘Unless she dumped them for the whole weekend,' said Tom. ‘George called the family in the UK. He says they couldn't suggest anyone Starr might be staying with, although she had called her mother yesterday morning saying she wouldn't stand any more of Keane's other women and was going to split with him because he still refused to leave the Army. The mother threatened to send her sons over to sort Keane out. You can imagine George's response to that.'

Max had arrived at the hospital and turned in between pillars leading to the car parking area. ‘Time to inform them that he's dead once we've told the wife. Keane's parents have been given only the basic fact, I take it?'

‘Until we've got to the root of what happened, yes.'

‘That's all I'll give Starr. My main object is to discover where she's left the children. A bientot, Tom.'

Max never entered a hospital without recalling the day he had had to identify his wife's damaged body. There was something daunting about those long corridors and the unique blend of antiseptic and the reek of sickness. Today was no exception. His enquiries at the desk regarding the car crash casualties confirmed his guess that Starr would be in Intensive Care.

Arriving at the hushed ward Max gave his identity and asked to speak to the unidentified woman who had been in the traffic accident.

The nurse eyed him sharply. ‘She is soldier?'

‘Married to a soldier. I believe she is Mrs Starr Keane. Is she able to confirm that for me?'

‘No, Captain. She has died since two hours ago.'

FIVE

M
ax called Tom's mobile from the car park. It was tuned to voice mail, so he simply said, ‘The woman who was in the Keanes' car died without regaining consciousness. No certainty she's Starr. Call me soonest.'

He drove home and entered his apartment to find lights on and the door leading to the central connecting room open. He cautiously approached the sound of voices; Livya's and Clare's. They were seated in two of the deep armchairs, drinking white wine and apparently on amicable terms with each other. Max was momentarily speechless.

‘Hi!' said Livya, holding up the bottle. ‘We've left you some.'

‘Good of you,' he murmured, unsure whether to join them or to stand his ground until she got the message that the feminine twosome should now split up.

She gurgled with laughter. ‘Oh, this is the second bottle. I grew tired of waiting, so I suggested Clare and I should get together and christen this room. We both know a lot more about you than before.' Her intoxicated merriment slowly faded. ‘Only joking, darling.'

Well, he would show her he could take a joke. He fetched a glass from the cabinet well-stocked with them, and sank into a third chair. ‘I guess you know a lot more about each other, too. Amazing how alcohol banishes inhibitions.'

Clare took up her half-filled glass. ‘I'll finish this while I'm getting my supper.'

‘Don't go,' said Max as she made to rise. ‘You'll want to hear what detained me for so long.'

His mobile then rang and he deliberately remained where he was to take the call. ‘We've a hell of a situation here, Tom. They dragged her from the burning car, but any means of identification went up in flames. I took a look, but I don't know Starr Keane. Someone will have to formally identify her. As the husband's also dead, it'll have to be a close friend. Soon as possible. It won't be harrowing. She looks
OK
; damage was mostly internal. She could very well be someone who borrowed the car and was unfamiliar with the controls. The kids weren't with her and, bearing in mind Piercey's report of so many remedies for blemishes etcetera, the woman I saw had a clear skin and would have been chubbily attractive.'

‘I'll have Connie or Heather take someone there now,' said Tom. ‘If it
is
Starr we'll have no way of knowing where she left the kids, unless one of her friends can come up with something. I'll follow that up right away.'

‘Keep me informed.'

‘Will do.'

Max disconnected and focussed on Clare. ‘You heard that? There are two youngsters out there who lost their father yesterday and probably their mother today. We know Keane was murdered. Until we receive the full accident report from the
Polizei
we have to wonder if the car could have been tampered with. One of my team is going to drive someone to the hospital pronto. If the woman is Starr Keane I'd like you to contact the doctors for full details of her injuries. Chat to the pathologist. She apparently drove straight across the autobahn. Is there anything to suggest she was actually incapable of controlling the vehicle at the time? That's important.'

He glanced at the clock. ‘Too late to get anything from them tonight. As soon as I have confirmation of identity, I'll call you. You can start on it first thing tomorrow. We're responsible for her and we'll get medical data quicker through you.' He frowned. ‘Our main hope is that whoever is babysitting for Starr gets in touch with us before long.'

‘They'll have been put to bed by now,' Clare pointed out. ‘If the arrangement was to keep them overnight the minder won't start to worry until well into tomorrow.' She got to her feet. ‘In view of this I'll lean on the pathologist to work on Keane. His body was taken away this afternoon and would normally join the end of a waiting queue, but there could be something significant about his murder that would connect with his wife's death. I'll do whatever I can and give you the results asap.'

Max stood and, for some inexplicable reason, offered his hand. ‘Thanks, Clare.'

She did not grip it, merely brushed his palm with her fingers. ‘It's my job. Goodnight.' She glanced down at the woman watching them. ‘Thanks for Max's wine . . . and the chat.' The door leading to her apartment closed behind her and was locked very audibly.

After slight hesitation Max resumed his seat, began on the full glass of wine, then cast a glance around the large room he had only crossed once when he had accompanied Clare to view with the prospect of renting her apartment.

‘Neutral territory,' he commented caustically. ‘Checking up on me?'

‘You'd do the same if the position was reversed.'

He neither agreed nor denied that. ‘Satisfied that we're no more than professional colleagues?'

She smiled sexily across the top of her glass. ‘I rest my case, Steve.'

That secret little endearment failed to work its magic. ‘Did you get some rest before the girly get-together?'

‘Mmm. A welcome couple of hours on your bed. Then I had a long luxurious bath.' She got to her feet. ‘Why don't you have one while I rustle up some supper? You look tired and it'll help you to unwind.' Putting out both hands, she said teasingly, ‘Upsy-daisy.'

He ignored her hands. ‘You've imbibed too much of my Chablis.'

‘Quite probably, but it's the start of a long holiday and we're going to be touring wine-producing areas, so it's only courteous to enjoy the juice of the grape.' She closed with him and kissed his mouth with wine-wet lips. ‘We've delayed it too long. I'd like you nicely relaxed and up for anything when we get to bed.'

This was what he had wanted. She was promising him a joyous start to his bid to persuade her they should be together permanently, so why wasn't he elated? She looked lovely in close-fitting oatmeal trousers and a white cotton shirt with faint gold threads running through it; there was the familiar inviting glow in her eyes. Yet his mood was wrong. He should not have gone to Headquarters and become involved in this complex case. It was not fair on Livya.

Max would have taken a long shower, but she insisted on running a bath laced with some of her scented oil designed to soothe and relax the body at the end of a hectic day. She had wasted her money, he thought, for he felt no different after the ten-minute soak. If it should turn out that the brakes on the Keanes' car had been disabled, focus on the case would shift dramatically to suggest Tom was quite wrong to believe there was something classically military about it. Killing Starr too suggested a more normal crime. Extortion, revenge, sex? Had Keane's partiality for a ‘bit on the side' taken him into adulterous territory? Had he – Max's pet theory – been involved in some wheeler-dealing and fallen foul of his co-conspirators? In either case, why kill Starr
after
killing him? Murdering her as punishment for stealing another man's wife/woman, or as a threat to force his compliance in some deal would make sense, but once Keane himself was dead what was the object in making two small children orphans?