The Sun Spot

By A.L. Wheeler

A private school in Denmark holds a fantastic secret.
It takes the murder of a young girl with an amazing memory to bring to light the mystery of the Sun Spot.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504988438

Book preview

PROLOGUE

1966.

EARLY HOURS OF A SUNDAY IN SEPTEMBER.

The old man staggered down the drive away from the large house, his torn and ragged shirt was spattered in his own blood, his face and other parts of his body showed signs of bruising and his lower back was covered in cigarette burns. He had been subjected to some terrible form of torture.

He peered back over his shoulder and tried to move faster, mumbling as he ran. Must get away, must inform someone. Tell the police. I took the oath and realize now it was wrong of me…Tell them of the sun spot.

He passed through the open gates of the estate and once more looked back the way he had come, shrieking in pain and fear as he noticed a car’s headlights piercing the darkness behind him and getting closer.

The sunken road he was on gave him little comfort, he could not turn aside and enter the open fields surrounding him, but he knew of a phone box at the crossroad further up the lane, if only he could reach it before they got to him.

He staggered on, only a hundred yards or so to go before he reached the phone box, but the headlights came closer.

He realized that he was not going to make it when he could hear the car’s engine, and then the voice of his torturer rang in his ears.

Going somewhere, Herb? You seem to be in a hurry.

The old man slowed and glanced back, his battered face showing his fear in the glare of the car’s headlights. The car slowed beside him, the young driver leaning out of the window laughing at his victim’s helplessness.

Tell us where it is hidden and we will let you go. You took an oath, remember?

Never! He spat back. If I had known what I know now I would not have got involved with you scum!

The old man gathered his remaining strength and tried to climb the steep bank at the side of the lane.

The driver tried to use the cars wing to nudge the man back onto the road by swerving into his legs but just at that moment the old man’s strength finally gave out and he slipped off the bank just as the driver nudged him again. He collided into the side of the car and fell under its wheels, the car accelerated away as the rear wheel caught his side and bumped over his neck, breaking his spine. He was dead in seconds.

The passenger of the car exploded at the driver’s stupidity. You fool! He screamed, He can’t tell us anything now, I did not order you to kill him.

The driver looked at the passenger as if he couldn’t care less.

He was not going to tell us was he? After all our persuading he told us nothing! You should not have told him what the sun spot meant in the first place. And if he had got in contact with the police we would all end up in prison. What would we do then?

He stopped the car and leaned over his passenger opening the glovebox he removed a bottle of brandy.

We have to make it look like an accident. Leave it to me.

He opened the door and got out of the car, walking back to the dead man; removing the top from the bottle he poured a generous amount of the liquor over the man’s face and shirt front.

Returning to the car he threw the half empty bottle on the back seat.

He grinned at the passenger. The police will think it was a hit and run, just an old wino that had too much to drink. Right, let’s get back then, shall we?

He drove on to the crossroads and turned the vehicle round returning the way they had come, driving past the corpse in the road without giving it a second glance.

CHAPTER ONE

THE PRESENT DAY.

RIBE PRIVATE SCHOOL, DENMARK.

THURSDAY, A.M.

Ilse Klimpt had one large advantage over her fellow pupils; she maintained a sharp and precise photographic memory which she freely used to help others with their education that was not so lucky. Ilse was a bright girl of fifteen years old and highly popular with the rest of her classmates, although a few were extremely jealous of her gift and expressed their contempt quite openly. One such contemptible obdurate was Stephanie Weisse, who was happy to be the center of attention in the classroom much to the chagrin of the teaching staff.

Most of the pupils and some of the staff where looking forward to the long weekend bank-holiday break when they would spend four days away from the school, that is those who did not live too far away to travel.

First lesson this Thursday morning will be history with Mr Schmit, this will be his final lesson at this school as he is moving back to Germany to teach at Kiel University, a much sought after position that he has been chasing for some time.

Well class, take your seats please, and settle down, let’s make this last lesson a happy occasion, open your books and laptops please to our last entry on Hannibal and his final defeat by Skipio at Zanna in 202 b.c.

Ilse propped open her computer like much of the rest of the class, selected the desired icon and clicked the mouse.

Most of the icons placed on the program page of the computers were pictures of various differing subjects, for example, geography had a picture of a setting sun on a windy tree-set landscape, history happened to be a black and white picture of an early Anglo-Saxon church, all designed and installed by Max Baust, the assistant Head-Master who was in praise of modern technology to further the education of the pupils.

Although in his early sixties Max Baust was quite fit and strong for his age though had a terrible temper, so most people went in fear of him including some staff, most often turning away so as not to catch his attention.

Ohhh!! Sighed Ilse, That has never happened before! A few of the other children looked over but Ilse was at the rear of the class, no-one else could see her screen. Now it’s gone!

Oh-yeah? and what was that then, sniggered Stephanie Weisse, The formula for walking on water? The rest of the class tittered gleefully, Stephanie grinning contemptuously at her wit and the immediate attention she received. Mr.Schmit immediately strode up, irritated with the disruption and keen to continue.

O.K. Ilse what’s the problem?

She probably saw God! Muttered Stephanie, looking away from the rebuke she expected from the teacher, the rest of the class ignoring her.

A strange picture just appeared on my screen, then after a few seconds it just vanished! How odd! said Ilse, again clicking on the mouse.

Well, you will have to take your lap-top to Mr. Baust after lessons and ask him to look at it for you. Mr. Schmit adjusted his glasses as he glanced at the screen over her shoulder.

Well, you seem to have the correct page up now, so we can carry on.

The rest of the morning went quite smoothly.

The mid-day break found Ilse quite full of her-self explaining the laws of gravitation to a few of the slower science pupils. As most of them drifted away to make notes from the extra tuition they were grateful for, she found herself alone with Gustav Chandler, her close friend. He was a year younger than Ilse, and unknown to her, was totally besotted with her.

So what happened in history with old Smitty today then? Quite a commotion I’m led to believe?

Not really. Ilse declared, surprised at the speed of gossip. I had a strange picture come up on my screen, never saw the likes of it before, it was gone after a few seconds, but I remember every detail, you know? Gustav rolled his eyes as if in acknowledgement to her superior memory.

"I’ll tell you what, give me a piece of paper and pen and I will draw it for you. You like puzzles so you might be able to work it out! It was more