‘Which he probably is,’ Jean cut in.
‘Yes, which he probably is. Well, I’ve been thinking that my parents might also have become a threat to Strobel, maybe as a result of looking for Karl’s father, my grandfather, who we’re now looking for. If that does turn out to be Volker Strobel, then I can see why they’re prepared to go to any length to stop us.’ Tayte paused, thinking about the decision he’d made to give it all up and go home. He looked into Jean’s eyes, which were bloodshot from the head injury she’d received and the concussion he’d been told had followed as a result. ‘I shouldn’t have let you get involved in this, Jean. I knew it could be dangerous.’
Jean smiled at him, although Tayte could see that it hurt her to do so. ‘What, and miss the opportunity of spending a romantic week in Munich with you?’
Tayte laughed. ‘Did they say how long you have to stay in here? I’ve decided we should quit this, while we still can. I was going to suggest we catch the next available flight back to London, but I guess that can’t happen just yet.’
Jean frowned. ‘You mean we’re running off home with our tails between our legs?’
‘Yeah, something like that.’
‘Do I get a say in the matter?’
Tayte ran his eyes over the hospital bed and back to the bandaging wrapped around Jean’s head, considering that her ‘accident’ could have been a whole lot worse. He shook his head. ‘No, I think this has to be my call, and I’ve already made it.’
‘Well, we can’t go today,’ Jean said. ‘The doctor told me he wanted to keep me in overnight because of the concussion. I’m a little bruised, but nothing’s broken.’ She flicked at her neck brace. ‘This thing’s just a whiplash precaution. I’m sure it can come off soon. The car’s airbags really saved me from anything worse.’
‘So we’ll leave as soon as you’re able to travel.’
‘What will you do in the meantime? You can’t sit here and hold my hand all day.’
‘Are you sure? Is there a rule against it? Because right now I don’t want to leave your side.’
‘That’s very touching, JT, but I’m sure I’ll be fine in here. It’s you I’m worried about. Knowing I’m safely tucked up in bed, I know you’re going to keep digging all the while you’re in Munich. Where are you going next?’
Tayte thought Jean clearly knew that part of him all too well. ‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On what you found out about Trudi Strobel née Scheffler last night.’
‘You see, you really can’t help yourself. Now I’m not sure I should tell you.’
‘I’ll be super careful,’ Tayte said. ‘And it’s not like we can send a message to whoever’s out to get us that we give up. All the while we’re in Munich they’re going to assume we’re still digging—or at least that I am. And you’re right, what else am I going to do?’
‘I expect they’ll know you’re still digging for sure if you follow up on what I found last night.’
Tayte grinned. ‘Stop teasing. Now I really want to know.’
‘Okay then,’ Jean said. ‘After you left last night, I kept looking for information on Strobel and Scheffler. I knew I had a few hours to kill and I’d already planned on staying up until you returned. Well, we’d pretty much exhausted everything we could hope to find online about Volker Strobel, so I focused on Trudi. I found a reference to another marriage, but this time Trudi Strobel was only a guest. It was a high-society affair in 1993, well documented online, having made several newspaper social columns and medical journals.’
‘Medical journals?’ Tayte said, furrowing his brow.
‘Yes, the groom was a prominent cardiologist.’
Tayte looked even more confused. ‘I can’t imagine where this is going.’
‘Well, be quiet and I’ll tell you. It was the bride I was interested in, and my jaw literally dropped when I saw who it was.’ She paused. ‘Could you pass me that glass of water,’ she added, pointing to a tray that was just out of reach beside her bed.
Knowing full well that she was teasing him again, Tayte handed her the glass of water with a sigh. He took it back from her once she’d finished with it and impatiently asked, ‘Who? Who was the bride?’
‘The bride’s name was Ingrid. In the absence of her father, her mother, Trudi Strobel, gave her away. The groom’s name was Dr Keller.’
‘Ingrid Keller?’ Tayte said.
Jean nodded, smiling.
‘Johann Langner’s nurse, Ingrid Keller?’
‘The very same.’
‘Wow,’ Tayte said, already considering the implications. ‘So, Johann Langner’s personal nurse is his former best friend’s wife’s daughter.’
‘It can’t be by chance, can it?’