Read Online Cherringham--Last Train to London by Neil Richards - Free Book Online

Sarah. “And we thought you might be able to clear them up.”
    Jack could see a tell-tale flicker of concern move across Jayne Reid’s face.
    She knows something … he thought, and watched intently as Sarah told Jayne of his visit to the rival puppeteer and of Krause’s denials of anything to do with the puppets’ theft. Then he mentioned Krause’s assertion that Otto was not German.
    At this Jayne grunted.
    “Krause!” she said, through gritted teeth. “That bastard would lie about anything – especially about Otto! Is this what you’ve both come here to tell me?”
    Jack watched as she walked to the shop door and opened it wide.
    “Get out, or I’ll call the police,” she said.
    Instead of leaving, Jack went to the corner of the shop, pulled out a fold-up chair and sat on it.
    “You really don’t want to do that Jayne,” he said patiently. “You see my police contacts back in New York tell me that Otto was Romanian, and the tattoo he had on his side, you know – the vulture...”
    Jack could see from Jayne’s expression that she knew exactly what he was talking about. The trick here, the trick of teasing the truth out of this woman, was not to reveal how little he and Sarah actually knew.
    “Yes, you know the tattoo, don’t you?” he said. “Well, they told me how … important … that tattoo was. But you know that too, don’t you? You talked to Otto about the tattoo and he explained it.”
    He smiled at her – and that seemed to break the spell that held all three of them motionless.
    “All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you what I know. But I don’t want it spread around – you understand?”
    He watched as she shut the door and came and sat next to him. It was as if she had surrendered.
    He caught Sarah’s eye – she turned the sign on the door to ‘closed’, flicked the latch, then pulled another chair out and sat close to them.
    “Otto was the kindest man I ever met,” said Jayne Reid. “Old-fashioned – he always opened the door for me. Such a gentleman. But in truth, until he came here, he had a terrible, terrible life.”
    Sarah watched silently, not wanting to distract Jayne from her story, listening intently to every word.
    “You are right. He was Romanian. His family stood up to the Ceauşescu regime – you know they were the Communist party that ran the country for years? So evil. Otto’s father was in the opposition. He was executed. So Otto took up the cause – that’s why he had that tattoo. He told me it was a secret sign for the revolution. But he was captured and tortured. By the Secret Police. The Securitate. You know of them?”
    “I’ve read about them,” said Jack. “They were about as bad as you could get. Took their methodology from the KGB. But even more brutal. Cross their paths and you disappeared. I remember after the Communists fell, all the truth came out – mass assassinations, torture, you name it.”
    “Otto never liked to talk about it. But I pieced together what happened to him. After they killed Ceauşescu, he was released from prison. He thought everything was going to be wonderful. But those people who had been in the Securitate, they wanted revenge. They were like mad men – they went after everybody who had crossed them. They hunted down the rest of Otto’s family and killed them. Then they came after him. So in 1989 he fled to Germany.”
    “To Erfurt,” said Sarah.
    “Yes,” said Jayne. “That part was true. But he only stayed long enough to get a new identity. Then he came here.”
    “But all these years later – why didn’t he just own up to who he was?” said Sarah.
    “By then I guess it was too late,” said Jack, turning to Sarah. “He was in the system. Easier to stay as Otto Brendl.”
    “That is true,” said Jayne. “But also with the internet, more and more he felt that those terrible people – they were going to catch up with him. Revenge never goes away for them.”
    “So that’s why he had such