Rebus nodded his understanding. ‘As you all know,’ he began, addressing the table, ‘Keith was my daughter’s partner. Someone killed him at Camp 1033, and it looks like his computer and some of his notes were taken. I’ve been studying what’s left and I know the camp had become an obsession. I’m just wondering what he learned from talking to you.’
‘I didn’t catch all of that,’ Helen Carter said, leaning so close to Rebus they were almost touching. ‘You know I wasn’t a prisoner?’
Rebus smiled. ‘You worked in the dispensary. There’s a bit about it in Keith’s files.’
‘And you did marry one of the internees,’ Hess called across the table. ‘I’ve still got a toy horse Helen’s husband carved when he was inside.’ He looked to Rebus. ‘A lot of internees were let out to work the fields and take exercise.’
May Collins placed Rebus’s drink in front of him.
‘No nodding off now,’ she warned her father, whose eyelids were drooping.
‘Blame the conversation,’ he barked at her, his voice still heavily accented.
‘You were another of the prisoners who was able to leave the camp?’ Rebus asked him.
‘Of course.’
‘And you were a newly promoted officer, I think — meaning a different accommodation block to the lesser ranks?’
‘Correct.’
‘How did you end up in Camp 1033?’
‘My platoon was surrounded. We had no choice but to surrender.’
‘And you, Mr Novack?’
Novack’s right hand moved with slow deliberation towards the glass on the table in front of him. His fingers curled around it without making any attempt to raise it. ‘Before 1033 was a British camp, it belonged to the Poles.’
‘You got on the wrong side of General Sikorski? So you weren’t here at the same time as Mr Collins and Mr Hess?’
‘Not quite, no — though Helen was a constant throughout.’ Novack looked at Helen Carter and gave a slight bow of his head.
‘I only caught a little of that,’ Carter said, fiddling with her hearing aid.
‘Offer her a post-prandial rum, however,’ Novack said quietly, ‘and you will find her hearing miraculously unimpaired.’
The sly glance she gave him confirmed the prognosis.
‘I returned here immediately after the war,’ Novack continued for Rebus’s benefit. ‘I had fond memories of the place and the people — and I’d found that there wasn’t much of a life waiting for me back in Poland. Camp 1033 was still operational then, of course. It only closed in 1947. Internees were used as unpaid labour — no need to send them home, as there had been no official armistice at war’s end. And of course the country needed workers.’
‘Is that when you were released, Mr Collins?’ Rebus asked.
‘Exactly so.’
‘And like Mr Novack, you chose to stick around?’
A further twitch of the shoulders. ‘I had fallen in love.’
Rebus turned to Jimmy Hess. ‘And your grandfather?’
Hess was nodding. ‘Same thing.’
‘Odd, isn’t it?’ Helen Carter broke in. ‘I don’t think many British POWs stayed in Germany after 1945.’
‘You only have yourself to blame for being so accommodating,’ Novack said. ‘I don’t mean you personally, Helen, but Scottish people in general.’
‘So nothing but happy memories of the camp?’ Rebus enquired.
‘There was hardship,’ Novack said. ‘The place was freezing in winter, stifling in summer. Even after British soldiers replaced the Poles, there were incidents. It was thought someone had tried to poison the camp’s delivery of bread — isn’t that correct, Helen?’
‘A lot of the men got food poisoning. Just one of those things.’
Rebus’s eyes were on Novack. ‘You don’t think it was random chance?’
‘People were friendly in the main, but try to imagine it — exotic foreigners arrive in your midst and are free to walk around the community, charming your womenfolk...’
‘Leading to a certain resentment?’ Rebus guessed.
‘Best if Joseph tells it,’ Novack stated.
‘What is there to tell?’ Collins barked across the table.
‘A fellow internee died, Joseph.’
‘Died how?’ Rebus asked into the uncomfortable silence.
‘Firing squad. He’d shot and killed one of the guards.’ Novack’s attention turned to Helen Carter. ‘The guard was a friend of your sister’s, wasn’t he, Helen? I’m not quite remembering his name...’
‘His name was Gareth,’ she intoned in a voice that was almost a whisper, her rheumy eyes beginning to fill. ‘Gareth Davies.’
‘Two men, one woman.’ Novack offered a shrug.
Rebus turned his attention back to Joe Collins. ‘The revolver you kept on the wall behind the bar — what was that about?’
‘I found it washed ashore. Probably belonged to a guard, tossed away to mark the end of the conflict.’
‘You had it made safe?’
‘No need — the mechanical parts had seized; it was never going to work.’
‘When it went missing, what did you think?’
‘It is of no consequence.’
Behind Rebus the door clattered open, a shadow looming over the table.
‘What the hell are you up to?’ Robin Creasey demanded. Rebus turned to face him.
‘Just doing your job, DS Creasey. Someone has to.’
‘A word with you outside, right now.’
Rebus gave a sigh of apology as he rose slowly from the table, following the detective out onto the pavement.
‘You’ve been back to the camp,’ Creasey stated.
‘You got my message, then?’
‘So what is it you feel you need to tell me?’
Rebus made show of considering the question. ‘Now that I think of it, I’m not sure it’s anything you should concern yourself with. Probably got enough on your plate as it is.’
‘Whereas your plate should have been cleaned and put away by now.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning why the hell are you still here?’
‘My daughter’s partner was murdered, in case you’ve forgotten.’
‘And the last thing I need is you trampling over that inquiry. What the hell were you doing visiting Strathy Castle?’
‘News gets around.’
‘The gardener has a mate who’s a copper in Thurso. Asked him to check if there’s someone on the force in Edinburgh called Fox. There is, sort of, but the description didn’t match. The real Fox is a couple of decades too young, for a start.’
‘Doesn’t mean to say it was me at the castle.’
‘Except you just admitted it.’
‘Stupid of me...’ Rebus stuffed his hands into his pockets. Both men turned as the door to the bar opened again. Stefan Novack was wrapping a scarf around his neck.
‘I have another appointment,’ he explained. ‘Josef has fallen asleep and Helen needs to get home to take her pills. I hope we were of some use to you.’
‘I’d have liked a bit more time,’ Rebus said. ‘Can we talk again?’
‘As you wish.’ Novack was holding the door open so that Helen Carter could manoeuvre her way out of The Glen with her walking frame. She didn’t seem to recognise Rebus. The pair of them headed to a waiting car, Novack unlocking the doors.
‘What was your little meeting about?’ Creasey asked.
‘Keith interviewed them, but there’s precious little sign of any of that in the papers in his garage. Whoever took his laptop had to have good reason. There was also a memory stick with the audio recordings — again, missing.’
Creasey screwed up his face. ‘Come on, John, we’ve already discussed this. Every housebreaker and mugger knows something like a computer or a mobile phone can be resold.’
‘His notebooks are gone too, though. You telling me they were going to sell those?’