Authors: Rob Kitchin
‘Not in the least.’ He placed the fork head on the ground and leant on the handle. ‘There was simply no need to involve her.’
‘No need to involve her? This isn’t an optional exercise! We’re talking about a murder inquiry. For all I know she’s trying to provide you with a false alibi.’
‘She’s doing what?’
‘You said you were in Oldcastle. Now you say you were in Kells. All of sudden you have a new alibi, this one with a witness.’
‘Are you accusing me of killing my father?’
‘No, I’m accusing you of lying. It makes me wonder what else you’ve lied about.’
‘I haven’t lied about anything!’
‘You’ve just admitted to lying about where you were on Saturday night!’
Koch started to drag a fresh forkful of manure and straw together.
There was the sound of running feet across the stable yard. Francis Koch burst into the stable.
‘Have you seen this?’ he said agitatedly, holding up a small sheaf of paper, unaware that McEvoy was lurking in the shadows.
‘Seen what?’ Charles Koch said testily.
‘The old man’s will! It arrived in the post this morning.’
‘His will?’ Charles Koch said confused.
‘He… he… we got practically nothing!’ Francis said angrily, holding the pages out to his father.
Charles took the sheaf and started to read, forgetting that McEvoy was watching.
‘You get two per cent,’ Francis continued. ‘Emily, Carl and myself get one per cent each. Only it’s held in trust for us all. I’ve spoken to Mark, he got a copy as well. Emily’s at work, Carl has his phone turned off. Did Marion get a copy?’
McEvoy stepped forward.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Francis snapped, spooked.
‘Asking your father some questions. Can I see that?’ he asked, holding out his hand.
Charles Koch ignored him, folding a sheet of paper over and scanning down the next page. He turned to the last page.
‘Professor Koch?’
Charles looked up, his eyes dead. He passed the three sheets to McEvoy who cast his gaze over the typed pages.
LAST WILL
AND
TESTAMENT: DR ALBERT KOCH
This is the last will and testament of me Albert Koch of The White Gallows, Ballyglass, County Meath made this date, --------------------, 20------. I hereby revoke all former Wills made by me and declare this to be my last Will.
I appoint Henry Collier, Esq., to be the sole executor of this my Will.
I devise and bequeath all my estate, composed of monies, shares, bonds, gilts, companies, property and other investments, whatsoever and wheresoever to the Ostara Trust. Full details of the newly formed Ostara Trust can be found in Appendix 1.
The Ostara Trust will consist, in the first instance, of the following shareholders:
Ostara Industries, 50 per cent
Marion D’Arcy (daughter) 2 per cent
Mark D’Arcy (grandson) 1 per cent
Jane D’Arcy (granddaughter) 1 per cent
Charles Koch (son) 2 per cent
Francis Koch (grandson) 1 per cent
Emily Koch (granddaughter) 1 per cent
Carl Koch (grandson) 1 per cent
Dr Gerald Astell (doctor) 0.25 per cent
Henry Collier (solicitor) 0.25 per cent
Stefan Freel (worker) 0.25 per cent
Roza Ptaszek (housekeeper) 0.25 per cent
Heidelberg University, 3 per cent (to establish an Ostara Trust endowed Chair of Chemistry, plus scholarships and visiting fellowships – see Appendix 2).
Amnesty International, 3 per cent
Yellow Star, 3 per cent
Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany, 3 per cent
Hazon Yeshaya, 3 per cent
Simon
Wisenthal
Center
, 3 per cent
Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, 3 per cent
Holocaust Educational Trust, 3 per cent
Irish Red Cross, 3 per cent
Ten Irish charities – 1 per cent each. Irish registered charities can apply to be a shareholder in Ostara Trust for a five-year period. Ten charities will be drawn randomly from those applications. See Appendix 3 for full details.
White Gallows Foundation, 3 per cent. The White Gallows house and grounds are to be converted into a centre for peace and reconciliation administered by The White Gallows Foundation. See Appendix 4 for full details.
Each shareholder will receive a yearly dividend paid in March based on the profit growth of Ostara Industries. Ostara Industries, the White Gallows Foundation, and the ten Irish charities cannot sell their shares. The remaining shareholders can sell no more than 20 per cent of their shares in any one year and other shareholders must be given first preference for purchase. The share price is dependent on the overall value of the portfolio at the time of sale as calculated by Ostara Trust’s accountants. If any named party does not wish to be a shareholder in the Trust then their share shall be redistributed evenly amongst the ten Irish charity shareholders. See Appendix 5 for full details on accounting, dividends, and share price calculations.
As witness my hand the day the year first above written.
Signed:
Signed by the said testator in the presence of us, who at his request and in his presence have subscribed our names as witnesses:
Signed and address:
Frank Koch, Kilgreen, Athboy,
County
Meath
Signed and address:
Maurice Coakley, Laragh, Athboy,
County
Meath
McEvoy noted that there were no signatures on the final page, nor were there any attached appendices. Either this was a draft of a will that was never witnessed, or it was a copy of the preliminary pages of Koch’s will freshly run off a laser printer. Either way he urgently needed to talk to Henry Collier to verify its authenticity. If this was Albert Koch’s current will then he was as good as admitting that he’d been a Nazi war criminal. And Dr Gerald Astell had good reason to pronounce Koch’s death by natural causes – a nice multi-million euro gift.
He looked up at Charles and Francis Koch. Assuming that Ostara Industries was worth one and a half billion euros, with a three per cent stake between them they were now worth approximately forty-five million euro, although only twenty per cent of that value could be accessed in any one year plus dividends, not that they seemed very happy about it.
‘Now what do you think about your father’s past?’ McEvoy asked. ‘He’s giving away a good chunk of his estate to Jewish holocaust organisations.’
‘This isn’t my father’s will,’ Charles Koch said uncertainly. ‘It’s a hoax.’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ McEvoy replied. ‘I’m taking this as evidence.’ He headed out of the stable and started to cross the yard to his car.
Francis Koch chased after him. ‘You… you can’t do that!’
‘Do what?’
‘Take that will. I… we need it.’
‘I’ll give you a receipt if you want one, but I’m taking it,’ McEvoy said firmly, opening his car door. ‘Your grandfather was killed for something hidden in his house. Perhaps it was this?’
* * *
Generally murder cases are either solved within the first couple of days or they drag out over weeks and months. In the latter case the inquiry would slowly lumber on, either going nowhere as with the Lithuanian stabbing, or slowly and patiently starting to come together as with Kylie O’Neill. In Koch’s case, the investigation was careening along, McEvoy chasing after fresh information and leads. Unfortunately, most of it was opening up new angles and potentials rather than narrowing things down, and it mostly concerned Koch’s past. They were slowly uncovering who Albert Koch was, but so far this had revealed few clues as to who his killer might be.
His mobile phone rang in its holder. He jabbed at it. ‘Yes?’
‘Do you have a minute?’ Johnny Cronin asked.
‘Not really. What’s the score?’ McEvoy asked.
‘I think we might have a bite. I’ve just had a phone call from a guy who saw my story in the paper and thinks he can help me out with my cash flow problems.’
‘You think he’s your man?’
‘I think it’s a strong possibility. He said if I can get hold of some cash he had a sure-fire way to double my money. He wants to meet me tomorrow morning.’
‘He’s either ultra confident or pretty stupid,’ McEvoy observed. ‘He’s no idea who the hell you are, but he knows his con is pretty well known at this stage.’
‘I’d say he’s the confident type – friendly and conciliatory; a bit of a Jack the Lad. He knows that people are stupid and greedy. It was a long way into the conversation before he let the offer of help dangle. I said I’d think about it and get back to him this afternoon.’
‘I can’t do anything today or tomorrow, Johnny. I’m up to my eyes here and it’s Maggie’s commemoration tomorrow. I’ve got to take the day off. Just go ahead and meet him and set up an exchange for Saturday morning. Make sure you get some decent surveillance and see if you can find out who the hell he is.’
‘Right, okay. How do you want to do Saturday morning?’
‘I’ll leave that to you, okay? Just keep it simple. We’ll let the exchange happen, then arrest him.’
‘No bother. I’ll let you get back to your Nazi war criminal.’
‘Feckin’ papers,’ McEvoy muttered. ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow afternoon.’
‘I thought you were off tomorrow?’
‘I am. But a phone call will help break things up. If I spend all day thinking about… well, y’know. Just call, okay?’ McEvoy ended the call.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day; a stressful day. Perhaps he could get away in the afternoon and attend Albert Koch’s funeral. They’d have to arrange something. The press were going to be all over it, and no doubt anti-Nazi groups, and god knows who else. It would need a big operation. Galligan could look after it, but he didn’t trust him to do a good job. John Joyce was competent, but if anything went wrong there would be questions about why a detective sergeant was in charge of such an event. It really needed his hand.
* * *
Henry Collier’s secretary had directed McEvoy to The Darley Lodge Hotel on Athboy’s main street, where Collier had hidden himself away to avoid prying journalists and curious, named beneficiaries of Koch’s estate.
He’d found Collier in the hotel’s bar, skulking behind a wide pillar decorated with a large mural of a Celtic serpent. In front of him was a pile of newspapers, the top one open, a half-finished cheese and ham toasted sandwich, and a near empty pint of Guinness. He was wearing the same green tweed suit and his grey hair had fallen off his bald spot and was hanging down over his ear.