Kindred (Genealogical Crime Mystery #5)

He extended his free hand to Rudi. ‘Here, help me up, will you?’


Tayte wanted to tell Rudi he believed he was his brother right there and then. He wanted to tell him so much, but now was not the time. He gripped Rudi’s hand as he reached out to him, and despite the pain he was in, Tayte was still smiling at Rudi as he was helped to his feet, his hand still pressed firmly to his wound. Tayte wanted to give Rudi a hug, but he was barely standing when the whole room seemed to shudder and everyone’s attention was drawn to the door, which had just been slammed shut.

‘Keller!’ Tayte said.

Jean sprinted to the door and tried to open it. ‘It’s locked. I can smell smoke!’ She began to thump the door.

Strobel was smiling again now. ‘That’s my girl,’ he said. To Rudi, he added. ‘She must have thought you’d shot me, or perhaps this is her way of fulfilling my wish to die.’

He began to laugh at the situation, but Rudi soon silenced him. He stepped up to the old man’s wheelchair and pulled him out and up over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. Then he carried him to the door. When he reached it he began to kick it, but the door was solid.

‘The gun,’ Tayte said to Jean, pointing at the wall beneath one of the paintings, to the gun Rudi had been holding. ‘Maybe you can shoot the lock through. Be careful, the safety’s off.’

Jean retrieved the gun and helped Tayte to the door, where Rudi was still trying with all his strength to break it down.

‘Stand back,’ Tayte said. He could smell the smoke fumes now, too. He only hoped the fire hadn’t yet taken hold of the building. Even if it hadn’t he knew they didn’t have long.

‘I’ve never fired a gun before,’ Jean said.

‘It’s easy. My adoptive father took me to a shooting range a few times when I was a boy. Just aim for the lock at an angle in case the bullet ricochets and squeeze the trigger.’

Jean held the pistol with both hands to steady her aim. A second later she fired, and she jumped at the sound it made, which was deafening in such a closed space.

Rudi approached the door again and gave it another kick. There was a cracking sound this time as the splintered wood began to give. ‘Again!’ he said, stepping back.

Jean fired at the lock again, and the next time Rudi kicked the door, it swung wide open. Smoke billowed into the room, followed by a wave of heat that told Tayte the flames were already out of control.

‘Quickly!’ Rudi said as he carried Strobel out. ‘Stay low. Cover your mouth.’

They were all coughing by the time they reached the end of the corridor, where the Nazi flags that lined the walls were all either burning or had already burnt out, presumably having been set alight by Keller as she left. Tayte was grateful they were in the basement where the foundation walls were made of stone, but that soon changed. Some of the walls further on were clad with wood and the staircase out of the basement was also wooden. Everything that could burn had begun to, including a small section of the stairs, which they had to pass through quickly so as not to set their clothes alight.

When they emerged onto the ground floor, heading for the main entrance hall where Tayte and Jean had previously bought their admission tickets, it was clear to see that Max Fleischer had been busy with his preparations for the inferno that was now well under way. The first floor had already collapsed in places and the heat was suddenly suffocating. They ran on as hot ash and burning debris began to fall around them. As they reached the main entrance hall, Tayte saw a familiar face. It was Tobias Kaufmann, standing just outside the entrance. He was with several officers of the Munich police, with Detectives Brandt and Eckstein among them.

‘Thank God you’re okay,’ Kaufmann said to Tayte as soon as he stepped outside. To Jean he added, ‘I came as soon as you called.’

It was almost dark out, the immediate area made brighter by the flames that were now raging through the building. As everyone moved away, coughing and spluttering as they made for the safety of the open car park, Tayte thought to check his watch, forgetting for a moment that he no longer had it. It was just an old digital watch, but it had been a gift from his adoptive parents that he’d had so long it pained him to think he would never see it again. He supposed by now that it was burning inside the building along with the rest of his things: his phone and his wallet. And while he was glad he hadn’t had his briefcase with him, he knew none of these things compared to the loss of all those fine paintings.

A siren began to wail in the distance, drawing closer.

‘That should be the ambulance,’ Kaufmann said, eyeing Tayte’s wound. ‘And by the look of you, not a moment too soon.’

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