‘You said you hunted him.’
‘In a manner of speaking, yes, and he gave good sport. I mentioned the Karwendel Mountains earlier—they’re not far from Munich to the south. It was there that I made my first home when I was released from prison. You see, I feared discovery for many years, so I initially sought solitude in the mountains. It was there that I took your father, but while I was deciding what to do with him, he escaped, high into the mountains. I sent men after him with dogs, and for a time he led them a merry dance. But I knew the area well. Given the direction in which your father had fled, I knew where he would go. There was a mountain hut, easy to see by anyone traversing the higher passes. So, I drove to it via a mountain track and waited for him, having lit a fire to keep out the cold, and to help draw him in. I waited with my shotgun in my lap, and inevitably your father walked in.’
‘And you shot him,’ Tayte said, finishing the story, or so he thought.
Strobel laughed again. ‘No, I didn’t shoot him. I didn’t want to have to deal with his body afterwards. As with Johann, I thought it best that no body should be found—at least not that could be easily identified.’
Tayte felt his jaw begin to tighten. ‘What did you do?’
‘I bound your father to a chair,’ Strobel said, speaking slowly now as he gazed at the gun in Tayte’s lap. ‘Then I left the hut and secured the door. I had already nailed the windows shut. There was no way for your father to escape this time.’ He paused. ‘I wonder if you can guess what happened next?’
Tayte was fast losing his battle to control the anger rising inside him. He had a good idea what happened next, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to grind his teeth, knowing he was about to find out.
‘I took a jerry-can from the back of my vehicle and I doused the hut with fuel,’ Strobel said. He leaned forward, grinning at Tayte now as though excited by the images replaying through his mind. ‘Pick up the gun, Mr Tayte. If my story is proving too painful, you can end it right now.’
A part of Tayte wanted to, but he didn’t. Then he wished he had.
‘I cremated your father while he was still alive!’
At hearing those words Tayte’s free hand began to drift towards the gun.
‘That’s it! Just do it!’ Strobel said. ‘Don’t think about it.’ He grinned again, and as if to give Tayte further encouragement, he added, ‘You know, I can still hear your father’s screams as he burned. I found it intoxicating!’
Tayte’s hand found the gun, cold metal against his hot and clammy skin. ‘You evil bastard. You really are a demon!’
‘Then shoot me! Put an end to my life, or must I tell you about your mother, too?’
Tayte’s breath caught in his chest. He shook his head. ‘Don’t you say a word about my mother.’
‘I’m afraid I must, if you’ll let me. You see, your mother was a loose end, and I couldn’t have that. She was pregnant when I sent my associates to kill her.’
Tayte lifted the gun and Strobel’s one good eye widened with anticipation.
‘I had no idea what your mother knew,’ he continued, ‘but I had to assume she knew as much as your father. Karl was missing by now, and although I’d made sure his disappearance couldn’t be tied to me, she had become a threat nonetheless. I already knew she was staying with her brother in a rented apartment here in Munich.’
‘Her brother?’ Tayte cut in, recalling his and Jean’s earlier visit to the apartment where his parents had been staying with British diplomat, Geoffrey Johnston. Now he knew the motive for Johnston’s murder. He had simply been in the way and was drowned in the Eisbach to make his death seem accidental.
‘Yes, her brother,’ Strobel said. ‘Which of course means he was your uncle. But apart from having to deal with him, there were other complications.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Tayte said, scowling at the idea that Strobel was responsible for the murder of yet another member of his family.
‘Don’t get your hopes up, Mr Tayte,’ Strobel said. ‘Your mother got away from me that time, but I made sure she knew it was Volker Strobel, the Demon of Dachau, who had killed her husband and was now after her. It served to remove suspicion from the respectable Johann Langner, and of course, your mother already knew that Karl had been interested in Strobel. She must have wondered what he’d found, but what could she do? Indeed, what could the authorities have done when she went to them with her story? Volker Strobel was a ghost. So your mother fled the country in fear of her life, and the lives of her as then unborn children.’
‘Children?’ Tayte felt an icy chill run through him.
Strobel gave Tayte a wry smile. ‘You didn’t know, did you? But how could you?’ The revelation seemed to amuse him. ‘You were not your mother’s only child.’