Indian Summer

Recent Titles by Elizabeth Darrell from Severn House

BEYOND ALL FRONTIERS

SCARLET SHADOWS

FORGET THE GLORY

THE RICE DRAGON

SHADOWS OVER THE SUN

UNSUNG HEROES

FLIGHT TO ANYWHERE

The Max Rydal Mysteries

RUSSIAN ROULETTE

CHINESE PUZZLE

CZECH MATE

DUTCH COURAGE

FRENCH LEAVE

INDIAN SUMMER

First world edition published 2010

in Great Britain and in the USA by

SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

Copyright © 2010 by E. D. Books.

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

Darrell, Elizabeth.

Indian summer. – (A Max Rydal military mystery)

1. Rydal, Max (Fictitious character)–Fiction. 2. Military bases, British–Germany–Fiction. 3. Great Britain. Army. Corps of Royal Military Police–Fiction. 4. Murder–Investigation–Germany–Fiction. 5. Detective and mystery stories.

I. Title II. Series

823.9′14-dc22

ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-179-8 (ePub)

ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-6918-0 (cased)

ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-258-1 (trade paper)

Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

This ebook produced by

Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My thanks, as ever, to Lieutenant Colonel (Retd) John Nelson, Royal Military Police, who patiently deals with my queries, no matter how bizarre. Also to
WO1
Pamela Reid, Special Investigation Branch, who, I suspect, must have an iron fist beneath that velvet glove.

I feel it is time I also publicly thanked Dr Robert Youngson, late of the Royal Army Medical Corps, who is a walking encyclopaedia of medical knowledge which he has willingly shared with me throughout this series.

ONE

T
he British called a warm, balmy period in October an Indian Summer, although temperatures never reached the heights of that continent. Personnel on the British military base in Germany who were enjoying the pleasant, sunny days said it was more reminiscent of an English spring. Birds were mistakenly building nests, animals who normally hibernated remained full of energy and flowers continued to provide colour in gardens and parks. After the debilitating heatwave in August bees were appearing in unprecedented numbers, causing a nuisance to the unwary. Global warming, warned the environmentalists. Local Germans said it was nothing unusual after an exceptionally hot summer. After the last heatwave they had been pestered by hordes of ladybirds, and the one before that had bred millions of caterpillars.

The Army had more to think about than global warming. The 2nd Battalion West Wiltshire Regiment had departed to Afghanistan to replace troops of the Royal Cumberland Rifles, who had arrived back on base three days ago. It was the practice of the ruling Garrison Commander, Colonel Trelawney, to provide the returning men and women with some fun and entertainment whilst also fulfilling his obligation to maintain easy relations with the local populace. To this end there would be an Open Day on Saturday, three days hence.

For several weeks the non-transient soldiers had been working on the project with enthusiasm, which had raised spirits usually restless during the six-monthly change-over periods. There were the tears and fears of women as resolute, keyed-up troops in desert combat gear loaded their cumbersome equipment in trucks ready for the off. A few days later, there were the radiant faces of families welcoming home loved ones with tense, drawn expressions and staring eyes. It was good for everyone on the base to have a period of relaxation before resuming their normal routine.

Saturday dawned bright and warm; perfect weather for the military to open the doors to all-comers. Aside from swings, roundabouts, a coconut-shy, a fortune teller and a test-your-strength machine, there were to be jousting contests by eight stalwarts dressed as knights on horses draped with their noble colours. Two were women, but the suits of armour would disguise the fact. There were also hijinks on a trampoline performed by
NCO
s of the Physical Training Corps made up as clowns; heart-stopping displays by a Royal Artillery motorcycle team; mock helicopter rescues by the Army Air Corps; a daredevil free-fall descent by Paras; precision marching without commands by Cumberland Riflemen; Military Police sending sniffer dogs out to find hidden drugs or explosives, and lavish refreshments provided by the caterers of the Logistics Corps.

In the face of all this regimental representation, men of the small Royal Engineers unit determined to make their own mark. One of their number was a highly experienced sub-aqua diver; another was a talented model maker. This combination produced an entertainment mainly for children, whereby the diver entered a huge glass-fronted tank filled with exotic ocean creatures in an attempt to reach a pirates' treasure chest. The modeller was a genius. The great white shark looked terrifyingly real, as did the purple jellyfish with long trailing tentacles, the deadly sea snakes, the sinister conger eels and the spiny stone fish.

The opinion of more than a few that children would be frightened by the diver's simulated tussle with these monsters was refuted by the crowds drawn to the tank. The cynics had forgotten that children love to be visually scared. Demons, witches, Daleks, cybermen with ray guns, and evil creatures that lurk in the sea all provided a delicious thrill while they clung to a parent's hand.

All in all, the event proved to be a success. German visitors departed well satisfied, and the general mood on the base lightened. Litter strewn over the area, along with much of the equipment, was cleared by the end of the day. Sunday volunteers would remove the rest to prepare for resumption of normal routine on Monday.

That night was clear and moonlit, with a touch of chill to remind one that it was autumn despite the daytime temperatures. Privates Dennis James and Jock Johnston slowly patrolled their allocated stretch of perimeter wire. They, along with the rest of the guard squad, had ensured the departure of all civilians by 18:00 and were now mounting regular patrols. On reaching the limit of their sector, they headed for the guard post for a mug of tea and a pasty (if the greedy sods had left any) before setting out again.

As they approached the water tank, Jock began to chuckle. ‘I saw a right little bruiser damn near peeing his pants watching that guy fight off the shark, yet the kid who looked to be his sister was smiling with vicious satisfaction.'

‘Girls!' Dennis exclaimed. ‘When I were a lad there was one in our street who led a reign of terror. Tough as nails and swore like a trooper. Never happy unless she had everyone dancing on her strings. Liar? They rolled off her tongue like . . .'

‘Christ!'

Jock's vehemence halted the reminiscence. ‘What?' Dennis demanded, instantly alert.

‘There's a bloke in that tank.'

Dennis stared through the moonwashed darkness and saw a long vague shape in the water. ‘It's not a bloke, you wanker, it's that bloody shark.'

‘It's a
bloke
, I tell you, and he's not moving,' muttered Jock, starting towards the tank at a run.

Dennis followed, activating his torch so that its beam merged with Jock's. Now fairly well illuminated, the shape was revealed as a man clad just in underpants who was drifting among the synthetic creatures. Wrapped tightly around his neck were the tentacles of the life-sized replica of the purple-tinted jellyfish.

Tom Black had barely reached the depths of sleep when the shrill call of the bedside telephone brought him awake.

‘Sar'nt Major Black,' he mumbled automatically, aware of Nora stirring beside him.

‘Sorry to disturb you, sir,' said Military Police Sergeant Maddox in his ear. ‘Perimeter patrol just found a body.'

‘Where, George?'

‘In that water tank. The death looks fishy, if you'll pardon the pun.'

Tom slid from beneath the duvet. ‘Have you called Captain Goodey? It'll take her around thirty-five to drive in to the base, unless she's sleeping in the Mess tonight.'

‘I checked. They signed her out through the main gate four hours ago. She's on her way.'

Grabbing the clothes he had recently shed, Tom headed for the bathroom. ‘Who found the body?'

‘James and Johnston, Cumberland Rifles.'

‘Just back from Afghanistan?'

‘No, they only joined four months ago. I've switched patrols to split them up; warned them you'll want to question them. I've got Meacher keeping watch on the tank.'

‘I'll be there asap.'

Disconnecting, Tom dashed cold water over his face, combed his hair and dressed with practised speed before letting himself as quietly as possible from the rented house. On the drive back to the base he and his family had left as the last visitors had filed through the manned gate, Tom mentally reviewed the mock drama enacted in that tank. Nora and the girls had enjoyed it immensely; Beth and Gina for the clever reproductions of oceanic scarers, Maggie and Nora more probably for the hunky diver in brief swimwear. Was his the body in the tank?

George's comment that the death looked fishy meant apparent murder, which was why Tom had been called. Max Rydal, Officer Commanding 26 Section, Special Investigation Branch, Royal Military Police, was in the UK attending his father's wedding, so Tom was presently heading 26 Section. Most fatalities they dealt with were traffic accidents or the occasional outcome of punch-ups that progressed to broken bottles or knives wielded with alcohol-fuelled loss of control. This case promised to be more complex. More interesting.

When Tom arrived on the scene there was a powerful arc lamp illuminating the water tank, and an ambulance was parked near it. George Maddox and Corporal Meacher had roped off the immediate vicinity to preserve any forensic evidence, although they and the two guards had already trodden there. The body had been brought from the water to lie on the small platform from where the RE diver had entered for his performance. Squatting up there was Clare Goodey, Medical Officer for the base. Standing beside her were two men in swimming trunks, who must have rescued the body from its watery grave.

George Maddox crossed to him as Tom left his car. ‘It's not the guy who did that act for the kids, and it's not Sar'nt Cruz who made that thing wrapped around his neck.'

Tom gave a grim smile. ‘You're saying you don't recognize the victim?'

‘Well, the features are bloated and wearing an expression more often seen in a field hospital, but the face doesn't ring a bell.'

‘So we'll have to get identification from records.'

George glanced up to where Clare Goodey was on her feet instructing the pair who had pulled the body from the water to carry it down to where two orderlies waited with a stretcher. ‘We'll get a match on the computer once we've taken a shot of him and checked for any identifying marks on the body. If the features are too distorted we'll have to go with dental records, which'll take longer. The
real
problem will be discovering who did it, and why.' George gave a sly grin. ‘
SIB
's responsibility, not ours.'