Adrian Magson - Deception

‘Ulf,’ he called, and pointed to the flattened area leading up to the body. The doctor joined him, treading carefully, and muttered an oath.

‘This is the man?’

Harry nodded. ‘It’s him.’

Thirty minutes later, the scene was the focus of attention of a cluster of local police vehicles and an ambulance, all bustling for space on the narrow track. While waiting for them to arrive, Harry had taken a look around the immediate area and found the pickup truck with a map on the dashboard. The paper was too fresh to have been here long, and he knew it must have belonged to Graham Barrow. Other than that, the pickup was clean.

At first Ulf had argued about the wisdom of calling the police. But Harry had prevailed, explaining that Barrow may have been a deserter, but he’d been a soldier first. It would be the only way he would ever return home.

It would also bring to the attention of anyone watching that the body had been discovered. As a precaution, he had called Ballatyne and explained what he’d found.

Ballatyne seemed unperturbed at Harry’s decision to involve the police. ‘Probably the best outcome. Keeps it officially believable. What cover story are you using?’

‘I’ll use the WO-Two cover, chasing down a missing squaddie.’

‘OK. I’ll get on to the MOD and our embassy in Berlin and prep them. Tell the cops you’re operating out of London. It’ll save any of our bases being dragged into it.’

The senior uniformed officer nodded at Ulf and the two men had a brief exchange. Then Ulf turned to Harry. ‘I know this man. I have worked with him. He is from the local state police. He has asked me to look at the body before they move it.’

‘Good idea.’ Harry looked at the policeman. ‘Thank you.’

A few minutes later, Ulf stood up from the body and said, ‘He was shot once. It came near the heart. No other wounds that I can see. Only the. . the birds.’

Before he could say more, another vehicle arrived. Two men climbed out and approached the trees. Their arrival seemed to have an effect on the other officers present, and Harry heard Ulf take in a sharp breath.

‘ Bundespolizei ,’ he murmured. ‘Federal investigators. They have responsibility for the borders and will take over from the local police. They will not approve of us being here.’

The first man, short and balding, stepped forward and spoke to the senior uniform, leaving his younger colleague, who had a ginger tinge to his hair, studying the body.

‘You are?’ the short man said, turning to Harry. His English was unhesitating and fluid.

Harry considered his response, but there was only one way to play it.

‘My name’s Tate,’ he said, and handed over his passport. The policeman flicked through it and passed it to his colleague.

‘For your information, my name is Drachmann and my colleague is Muller. Why is an Englishman here — ’ he gestured around him at the trees and bushes, and then at the body — ‘in such a quiet place?’ His eyes flickered coolly across to include Hefflin in his words. ‘Perhaps you do not know, but this is a restricted area, Mr Tate. Do you not have restricted areas in England?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said carefully. ‘That was my fault. I put pressure on Mr Hefflin, here.’ He indicated Ulf, who looked relieved but still worried.

‘Pressure?’

‘Yes.’ He produced the Warrant Officer card and passed it over. ‘I came looking for a member of our military who has gone missing. Mr Hefflin was handed his passport and a mobile phone, and called my number. I came to see if the soldier was in the region.’ It was as near to the truth as he wanted to get, and he hoped Ballatyne had the clout with the British Embassy in Berlin to back it up when the official questions progressed further along the diplomatic and police lines.

‘And why would this. . man be here?’

Harry shrugged. ‘We can only make a guess at that. He left his unit and disappeared, that’s all we know.’

‘A deserter?’ Drachmann looked faintly disapproving.

‘Technically, yes. But there may have been extenuating circumstances. He has been under severe stress recently.’

‘Afghanistan?’

‘Yes. We wanted to find him before he did anything drastic. My job is to persuade men like this to return to their units.’

The policeman nodded and pursed his lips. ‘It is understandable. He is important, this man?’

Harry hesitated. Drachmann was quick on the uptake. ‘He has — had — specialized knowledge, yes. We wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.’

‘Of course. I understand.’ Drachmann nodded slowly. ‘But I have two questions: how did you know he was here? And how did Herr Hefflin know to contact you?’

Harry took a deep breath. This could be tricky and he hoped Hefflin was quick on the ball. ‘I was in London. I was keen for Barrow to get in touch with me, so I left a voicemail message with my number. When Mr Hefflin called me to say he’d found the passport and phone, it seemed reasonable to come and look around. I thought Barrow might have been in a car accident. I asked where the items had been found, and when Mr Hefflin told me, I persuaded him to bring me down here. Any blame for him being here is mine.’

The policeman lifted his eyebrows, but did not seem overly impressed. ‘You did not think to work through the proper channels? We have a common interest here.’

Harry smiled briefly. ‘I was impatient. I thought if I could find Sergeant Barrow and persuade him to go back, it would involve the minimum of fuss. . for him as well as us. I’m sorry if I’ve gone about this the wrong way, but I’m sure you understand.’

To his surprise the man nodded and handed back his passport. ‘And is this definitely Barrow? You can formally identify him?’

‘Yes. It’s Graham Barrow.’ Harry handed him Barrow’s passport.

‘We will need to keep this, Mr Tate. And you will have to make a statement at the station in Schwedt. Perhaps you would be good enough to go there. One of my men will accompany you.’ He stared at Ulf. ‘ Herr Hefflin also.’ He motioned to the waiting ambulance men to take the body away. ‘I will have the area sealed while we carry out more intensive investigations, although I do not think there will be much to tell us who killed this man.’ He didn’t look happy at the thought, and Harry got the impression that if things got sticky, he was going to have to rely on Ballatyne to call in some favours, status non-attributable or otherwise. Being stuck in the German justice system wasn’t going to help him find Paulton or Vanessa Tan.

Far away from Schwedt, in Bremen’s discreet Burgerpark, a short drive from the city centre, Deakin was pacing the elegant columned foyer of the Park Hotel, his face taut with anger. He had just taken a call from the man following the mystery investigator. ‘I don’t bloody believe this,’ he hissed. ‘Petersen picked up our man coming through Tegel and tracked him to some place called Schwedt, on the Polish border. First thing he does on arrival is talk to a local guy, and less than an hour later they find Barrow’s body and call in the Federal cops.’ He snapped the phone shut with venom. ‘Christ, of all the places. . how in God’s holy name did he find it so quickly? They might as well have fitted Barrow with a bloody tracking device!’

Greg Turpowicz was unmoved by Deakin’s mood. He thought the Brit was getting way too stressed for his own good. It was something that had been showing more and more just recently. Instead he gazed thoughtfully at the magnificent domed ceiling above them and said softly, ‘I know Schwedt; it’s in the middle of nowhere. Petrochemicals and paper, mostly. Jesus, if that’s where Beavis and Butt-head did their jig with Barrow, and this guy found it already, they didn’t exactly break their necks trying to hide the evidence, did they?’