Kindred (Genealogical Crime Mystery #5)

‘No, not at all. I’m quite flattered.’


Johann could feel another blush rising, so he changed the subject. ‘I see that you’ve had your puncture repaired.’ He pointed down at the front tyre of Ava’s bicycle, having no idea whether it was the right one. ‘We were waiting for you by the bicycle racks. I don’t know how we missed you.’

‘I don’t leave my bicycle there any more. The racks get too full. A few of us leave them across the street.’

She gestured behind her, but Johann couldn’t take his eyes off her long enough to see where she meant.

‘Well, that explains it,’ Volker said. ‘We were just going for a drink. You’ll join us, of course.’

‘Well, I—’

‘But you must,’ Volker insisted. ‘We’ve waited over an hour in the cold for you, haven’t we, Johann?’

Johann nodded and gave Ava a sheepish smile. Now that he had found her again, the last thing he wanted was for her to be put off by Volker’s overly direct manner.

‘It’s true that I’ve been waiting at length in the hope of seeing you again, and that Volker here, like the good friend he is, has been standing in the cold with me. If you do have the time to join us for a drink, I should like it very much.’

‘I’d like it, too, but I’ll be late home and Papa will worry.’

Volker cut in again. ‘What if I told you I know how you can have a drink with us and still be home at your usual time?’

‘How?’ Ava asked.

Volker lifted her bicycle up onto the pavement. ‘Walk with us and I’ll explain along the way. We’re wasting time here, and you were going in this direction anyway.’

They started walking, Ava pushing her bicycle with Johann to her left and Volker to her right.

‘I know a nice place just around the corner,’ Volker continued. ‘The proprietor has been a friend of my family’s for a very long time. He’ll serve us the finest brandy to warm us up, and when we’ve finished, I’ll borrow his van and Johann and I will take you and your bicycle home to your papa, who will be none the wiser. Now what do you say to that?’

Ava turned to Johann, and he could see that she was still unsure. He could also see that Volker had changed his opinion of Ava quite considerably now that he had met her. This was a far cry from wanting him to have nothing more to do with her.

‘It would just be for one drink,’ Johann said. ‘And I should very much like the opportunity to continue the conversation we began two weeks ago.’

Ava smiled. ‘I don’t see why not. As long as I’m not late home.’

‘Good!’ Volker said. He laughed then as he grabbed Ava’s bicycle and began to run with it. ‘Come on! If we hurry, we might have time for two drinks.’





Chapter Seven


Present day.

Outside the German Heart Centre on Lazarettstrasse, Tayte and Jean followed their bags into the back of a cream-coloured Mercedes taxi. Although they hadn’t had to wait long, Tayte was glad of the cool air-conditioning, which was a welcome respite from the hot afternoon sun. Tayte liked taxis. They took the stress out of driving on unfamiliar streets, and you didn’t have to know your way around. He thought back to the last time he’d worked with Jean, in London the previous year, and was glad he didn’t have to travel around on the back of her motorcycle again this time.

‘Maxburgstrasse,’ he said to the driver, and they were on their way, heading towards the city centre.

When the ECG machine Johann Langner was attached to lit up with alarms for the second time during their visit, Ingrid Keller had once again ordered them to leave, and this time Langner had not recovered sufficiently to insist they stay to hear the remainder of his story about his friendship with Volker Strobel and the girl, Ava Bauer, who had come into their lives not long before the war began.

Tayte turned to Jean. ‘I hope the old man’s okay. Maybe we should have left sooner.’

‘I was thinking the same thing,’ Jean said. ‘But he wanted to talk, didn’t he?’

‘I know, but I can’t help feeling a little responsible. His nurse was right—he needed rest.’

‘I think what really set him off that last time was talking about Volker Strobel. Whatever did the man do?’

‘A terrible thing,’ Tayte said, thoughtfully, repeating Langner’s last words to them, knowing that he wasn’t referring to the terrible things Strobel had done to earn him the moniker ‘Demon of Dachau’, but something else. ‘I’d love to know what he was referring to, and I’d have really liked to hear what else he had to say.’

Jean agreed. ‘Maybe we’ll get another chance to talk to him.’

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