No, it can’t,’ Tayte agreed. ‘So there was no father-of-the-bride present at the wedding?’
‘No. And I thought at first that made sense. If her father was Volker Strobel, he’d obviously want to keep his name off Ingrid’s birth certificate. Then again, if Strobel was her father, given that Langner’s and Strobel’s friendship ended badly during the war, why would Langner want to have anything to do with Ingrid, let alone employ her as his personal nurse? On top of that, Langner did seem very fond of her when we went to see him, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, he did,’ Tayte said. ‘So you think the old man could be Ingrid’s father? That Langner had an affair with Trudi?’
‘It’s a possibility. It would explain this otherwise highly unlikely arrangement between nurse and patient.’
‘And having a leading cardiologist in the family could certainly have its benefits for someone in Johann Langner’s condition, too.’
They fell quiet for a while as Tayte thought it through. It was a great find, but what to make of it? By itself he couldn’t see how it brought him any closer to finding the answers he was ultimately looking for, but it occurred to him that it might open a door that had previously been closed to him.
‘I’m going to try to see Trudi Strobel again,’ he said. ‘I think when she hears this, she’ll agree to talk. She clearly doesn’t want this connection to be made public knowledge. I’ll tell her I know that Johann Langner is Ingrid Keller’s father.’
‘But we don’t know that for sure.’
‘I know, but Trudi Strobel doesn’t know that. I’ll tell her I’ll keep a lid on it if she’ll agree to an interview. If there’s any truth to it, I can’t see how she can refuse. If she does refuse, then at least we’ll know we’re probably barking up the wrong tree.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tayte stayed with Jean at the hospital for as long as he was able to. When she was taken to radiology for a CAT scan he kissed her goodbye, called the car hire company to explain everything, and then took a taxi to the city centre. Along the way he called Tobias Kaufmann.
‘Mr Kaufmann, it’s Jefferson Tayte,’ he said as soon as Kaufmann answered. ‘I’m coming to see you. I have a few things to do first, but I shouldn’t be long.’
‘Have you found something?’ Kaufmann asked, a note of excitement in his voice.
‘Possibly. I have some information about Trudi Strobel I’m sure you’ll be interested in.’
‘Trudi Strobel? I can’t wait to hear it. And I have some news for you, too. I’ll tell you when you get here.’
‘Great. I’ll see you soon.’
When Tayte ended the call, he sat forward in his seat, and to the taxi driver he said, ‘Can you take me to a florist?’
To anyone following him, Tayte figured it would appear as though he were simply buying flowers for Jean. He was, but he had another motive. The taxi dropped him close to Marienplatz and once inside the florist he purposefully took his time over the bouquet selection, watching the street through the window for signs of anyone lingering outside, waiting for him to leave again. He wasn’t taking any chances now. He had little doubt that someone had to be following him. He thought the FWK would want to make sure he’d got the message at last and was going home, and he wanted to give them every indication that he had. Once he felt he’d done enough to convince them, he needed to disappear before going to see Tobias Kaufmann, which he didn’t think would be a problem amidst Munich’s busy city streets.
It was late morning by the time Tayte left the florists, his flowers in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He headed across Marienplatz towards the highly ornate Old Town Hall—a fourteenth-century neo-Gothic hall and clock tower, where on 9 November 1938 Joseph Goebbels had delivered his speech as a prelude to Kristallnacht. Tayte paused in the middle of the plaza, in plain view of anyone following him, and took out his phone. Now that he had his flowers for Jean, he was calling the airport to see if he could get a flight home. At least, that’s how he hoped it would appear to anyone nearby.
Instead, he pulled up the number for the German Heart Centre. He wanted to see how Johann Langner was, and to ask if he could see him again to continue his wartime story. Before he pressed the call button, he put on a loud, touristy voice, and said, ‘Yes, hello. Munich Airport reservations?’ A moment later he pretended the connection was bad, facilitating the need for him to shout his next line. ‘Could you please check availability on flights to London, England.’
Tayte pressed the call button then and continued walking again. When his call was answered he lowered his voice and said, ‘Hi, I’d like to enquire about a patient called Johann Langner. I wonder if you can tell me how he is. Or better still, is it possible to speak to him?’
‘Your name, please.’
‘Jefferson Tayte.’