The Collectors - Book Four: Diamonds and Sand (The Collectors Series 4) (9 page)

“
On arrival at Lat 22.50 the wreckage of a Junkers littered the ground. We checked for survivors and discovered two pilots in the entrance of our storage facility. One dead, the other hallucinating. We transferred the survivor to base for hospitalisation. The shortage of vehicle spares continues to be a problem and could jeopardise our continued harassment of the enemy. I have given my men one day of rest.’

“What's left
are stores requisitions,” remarked Bear. “Poor sods were guaranteed a bullet in the head if they were caught or worse.”

“
There’s your answer,” said the major

“Does the report give any
sign of their storage facility?” asked Petros.

”I
t didn’t mention it but we have a latitude.”

“Not much
use without a long,” said the major.

“We know it
’s Libya and their rough direction and it’s a mountain cave,” said Petros. “Draw a straight line across the desert at 22.50 and see where it intersects with a mountain.”

“I wonder what
happened to the pilot who survived?’ said Bear.

“Prisoner of war and shipped to
Britain. Couldn’t have him telling the world what we were doing. His name was Geller. We must have a list of German POWs held in the UK during 1941/42. Wait, I’ll ask Nancy if she can find him.” The major stood and went into the main office.

He returned and sat
behind his desk. “Give her ten minutes. If anyone can discover Pilot Geller, she can.”

They
chatted for the next few minutes until Nancy knocked and entered. She was an attractive woman and very professional. 

“Anything?” asked the m
ajor.

S
he spoke with perfect diction. “Your Hauptman Geller was a lucky man. On arrival in England, they questioned him in London. At some time, there’s no actual date, he arrived at Camp 21, Featherstone, and south of the River Tyne. A lot of documentary and personal evidence of the inmates exists, although the camp is long gone. Your man eventually occupied an important position in the Republic of Germany. I can find out where and when if you want. He did write a book of his experiences whilst at Featherstone. The Northumberland County Library at Hexham has an archive dedicated to the camp.”

“Do you need any more information on your pilot?”
asked the major

“No
, but Lieutenant Baumstein and his team, whatever happened to them?”

“I’ll
go and look,” said Nancy.” She left.

“
A smart and clever woman. Why she works here, God Knows.”

Nancy
knocked on the office door and entered with a file. “You’re in luck regarding Lieutenant Baumstein. I have no information on his men. I can have another look if you want.”

“Thank you,
Nancy. It’s Baumstein we’re interested in.”

“Well, he made it through the war, married an English girl and settled in Portsmouth. Much to my surprise, he’s alive and kicking.”

“Remarkable.
” The major smiled. “Don’t suppose we have an address?”

She leafed through the folder. “Yes, but how relevant
?” She shrugged. “I’ll find out from the electoral register. Give me a few minutes.”

“A bit o
f a long shot, don’t you think, Major?” said Bear.

“Not really, the man was an officer,
still alive and must have a pension. Can’t be too many Baumstein’s in the phone book.”

“I have your address,” said Nancy. “Your ninety seven year old soldier lives with his daughter a Mrs Littlejohn and her husband.” She handed the major a slip of paper and another to Petros.

“Thanks,” said Petros.
“Bear we might just take in the sea air for a day.”

“”I beg your pardon.”

“A day out, on the coast.”

“PK, if you want to chat to an old man who I doubt can remember yesterday, go for it. At the moment I have builders refurbishing two of my houses and I need to be there to stop them ripping me off more than usual.
”

Petros tapped Bear’s arm and they both stood.
“Thank you, Major, for you help and time.” Petros held out his hand.

“Thank you for making a retired officer’s day. Soon they’ll pu
t me out to grass. If you need more info please give me a call.” He handed over a card. “My address and phone number.”

“Thanks
, Major,” said Bear. “Your new camp from what I’ve seen is spot on but the old one was home. Any idea what’s going to happen to it?”

“Not sure. I
t’s been mentioned the local authority wants to build houses on it.”

Bear chuckled.
“Years of blood, sweat and tears covered by houses.” He shrugged. “A thousand soldiers will turn in their graves. “ He shook hands. “Take care Major and thank you again.”

The major escorted them to the main door.

“It’s persisting like an elephant peeing,” said Bear.

“Powers of observation
, ten out of ten,” said Petros as he raced to his car.

Bear followed with one of the
young female clerks holding an enormous golf umbrella between them.

“Thanks, gorgeous.
”

She waited until he was in
side, grinned and ran back to her office.

“It’s all right for some,” said Petros.

“My natural charm,” said Bear.

Petros stopped at the main entrance and returned their visitors passes.

“What’s your next move?” asked Bear.

“
I’ll drop you off first, then visit London Library and get them to beg or borrow a copy of Geller’s book.”

“Why the book? We do the job or we don’t.”

“Maybe because I’m interested in a man, who as far as we know, never asked what happened to a case full of diamonds or did he go back and retrieve them when the war ended?”

“Perhaps he can’t remember,” said Bear.

“I need to read the book. You, do what you do. Go to sleep and let me think.” He hadn’t anything to sort out, except perhaps the location of the diamonds.

Chapter Five

A dark blue Ford Sierra blocked Petros’ access to his garage. The odour of furniture polish assaulted his nostrils as he opened the main door to his home. “I can tell Mrs Nelson’s been at the polish again and who does the car belong to?”

Maria ran to him and placed her finger on his lips. “There’s a man in the lounge. He says he must talk with you.”

“Why did you let him in?”

“He showed me a
Police Warrant Card.”

Annoyed,
Petros strolled into his lounge. “My wife could not remember your name. You must be police as you assume far too much. Warrant card, now.”

“John Soames.
” He stood and handed across a black leather card holder.

Petros examined
a plastic-coated card.”

”
Mr Kyriades, the card’s genuine but forget the number.” His smile faltered. “And I’ve never worn a blue uniform in my life. Khaki like you for a few years. Those in the business refer to me as ‘a gatherer’.”

Petros
studied the balding, middle-aged man with bushy black eyebrows. “James Bond and Co.”

His smile returned
. “I wish. You’ve seen my four year old Ford parked in your drive.”

“W
hat do you want?”

Soames examined the room.
“Can we discuss this in private?”

“You could but I need
confirmation on who you say you are.”

The man hesitated.
“Is that necessary?”

“
It is, if you want your head to remain on your shoulders. And when I’ve finished, I’ll let Dog play with your balls.”

“Very
well. Contact any police station and ask the desk sergeant to call this number. Give my name and state priority one alpha.”

With one hand, Petros operated his mobile while keeping his eyes on the seated Soames. The moment he finished his mobile
rang. “Petros Kyriades.”

“You requested confirmation on
a government operative. A police car will arrive at your home with a photograph. Study it, you will find the man in your home is John Soames. If you still have doubts he will leave.”

“Thank you,” said Petros.

“Satisfied?” asked John.

“When the police arrive
; until then you sit tight.”

Both men waited in silence until the doorbell chimed.

Petros opened the door and gave the uniformed sergeant the once over, noting the jagged scar which crossed his left eye stopping halfway down his cheek. He held out his hand. “Warrant card.”

“
My scar is from a yob with a knife,” said the sergeant. “I was lucky.” He handed his warrant card and a photograph to Petros.

“Thank you.”

The sergeant smiled. “It’s what we do, Sir. Goodnight.”

With
wheels spinning, the police car, its lights flashing, raced out of the drive. A million pebbles rattled on its underside.

Petros closed the door and
strolled towards John Soames. “Speak.”

Soames settled back in the settee.
“I’ll start from the beginning by telling you what we know of you. You were born in Cyprus at the time of the Turkish invasion. Your mother fled with you in her arms to Larnaca. Your father fought the Turks and never returned. Your mother joined relatives in Wood Green, London, married Jack Dunn and produced three children, all boys. As a boy and young man you worked and played hard. Joined the army and almost won the coveted Wilkinson Sword but backed off and allowed another to have it. You were a good officer but loved the women and resigned your commission. Tried being a mercenary but never took to it. You teamed up with William Morris as The Collectors. To date you are a wealthy man having invested in property. It seems you pay your taxes to the penny. For a rich man it seems you’re as pure as the driven snow. You are now married with a young daughter.”

Petros shrugged. “So you know who I am and what I do.
What do you want?”

“Your cooperation and assistance.
My reason in life is to assign people for tasks that for varying reasons we cannot undertake. During the last few days, you and Mr Morris have been under surveillance. Why? You may ask.” He handed over a photograph.” Do you know this person?”

Petros didn’t hesitate. “
Eva Engel. I might be working for her in the near future.”

Without raising his voice John said, “
Wrong. That is a picture of Hitler’s girlfriend Eva Braun, although I admit a strong likeness. Miss Eva Engel is the new Eva Braun in the sense her political beliefs lean in that direction. She belongs to a group of Neo-Nazis in Germany who are, in their words, planning the rise of the Fifth Reich. In England the tattooed skinhead brigade are members of a similar party. Neo-Nazi attacks in Europe have increased each year. Governments are desperate to stop youngsters joining. Most are drop-outs from society but the central core of die-hards believe they can resurrect Nazi Germany and rule the world as Hitler wanted”

“Apart from being an illegal organisation, what’s stopping them?” asked Petros.

John Soames stood and walked around the room. His voice remained soft. He turned to face Petros. “Money. With enough funds they intend to resurrect the twenty-five points of Hitler’s Nazi party into their organisation. Can it happen in the twenty-first century? I doubt it but then stranger things have come to pass.”

“
So what do you want me to do? I was never Special Services. Why don’t you and your cronies go and kill her?”

John sat on the arm of the chair. “
As a last resort she might fall in front of a car. Hit and run is common these days. In truth, we don’t know where her long lost hoard is hidden. The German authorities need to discover those in the organisation who wield power. These groups are like perennial weeds, unless we can destroy the root system they return stronger than before. The morons will always exist but without leadership, they remain objects of ridicule. Eva Engel and Maximilian Meyer, her partner, believe in their destiny to rule Germany, Europe and the world.”