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alive she and her property were left alone. But if someone was interested why not make a move as soon as she died? Why not put in some sort of claim? It wasn’t as if the daughter was sitting on the lawyer’s step waiting to collect her inheritance.
    He let his mind circle the question. Maybe they wanted to see if the legitimate heir, the daughter, would surface. No, they’d have been watching and as soon as the nuns gave up they’d have made a move to stake their claim, and nobody had made any move. The thing just lapsed. Then, six years after Ma Colmar hands in her chips, somebody pops Young Hitler while he’s outside his care home sitting in his wheelchair. That had to be a planned killing. Who the hell gets killed in an accident like that? In a wheelchair parked outside a care home. How weird is that for a way to die, for God’s sake?
    Jimmy lined up the questions.
    Why wait so long? If there was something important in the estate why not manufacture a claim when the daughter didn’t surface? And why kill Young Hitler? He had no claim on the estate, did he? Or did he? Maybe he had some sort of claim but didn’t know it.
    As Jimmy’s mind circled the questions came, plenty of questions. As for answers … there were none. Yet.
    Jimmy took a drink and poured the rest of the beer from the bottle into his glass. There was no doubt that Young Hitler, he checked the name, Erich Streubel, had been murdered, ‘… as the result of a hit and run incident.’ Some bloody incident.
    Jimmy put the papers and photos back together and closed the folder. OK, he’d read the dossier. What was he supposed to do? McBride said he’d know.
    He called the waiter and ordered another beer. This needed thinking about. One thing was certain, it wasn’t going to be easy or straightforward and at least one person had already been killed. The more he looked into this thing the less happy he felt. Not life threatening?
    If it looks evil, smells evil, and makes evil noises, then it has to be evil, and he didn’t want to be the one in the way when whatever it was it broke loose.
    The beer arrived and as he poured it and took a drink he suddenly realised that McBride had been right as always. He now knew exactly what he had to do. It would indeed life-threatening to somebody but, if he was careful and made the right moves from day one, he should be able to make damn sure it wasn’t his life that got put in the frame and was threatened. That he would leave to somebody else.

Chapter Nine
    He knew it as soon as he got back to his hotel room. They were out there all right and they were watching. It had been well done, very professional, but there was no way you could turn over a room, even a hotel room, and not leave signs for anybody who was used to looking, which meant they didn’t mind him knowing he’d had visitors. Maybe they even wanted him to know to see what he would do about it.
    OK, what was he going to do?
    First things first, ditch the dossier.
    Jimmy went down to the reception.
    â€˜I’d like something delivered by courier. Can you arrange that?’
    â€˜Certainly.’
    â€˜Can you make it now, immediately?’
    â€˜I will try, sir.’
    The man pulled out what looked like a directory, thumbed through it, found what he wanted, and made a call.
    â€˜What is it you wish delivered?’
    Jimmy put the big envelope on the desk and the man went back to the call, finished, and put the phone down
    â€˜The rider will be here shortly.’
    Jimmy wrote the lawyer’s name and address on the envelope clearly in block capitals and then borrowed a roll of tape and taped it up securely.
    â€˜What’s the name of the courier company?’ The man told him a name. Jimmy picked up the envelope. ‘Thanks. I’ll wait over there.’
    Jimmy walked across the small entrance lobby to a chair and sat down. Nobody came in or went out. It