Bad Wolf (18 page)

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Authors: Nele Neuhaus

Tags: #Thriller, #Mystery, #Contemporary

BOOK: Bad Wolf
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“Pia!” she yelled, jumping to her feet. “Where have you been?”

With a deafening crash, the whole north face of the Eiger slid from Pia’s heart. Her knees suddenly turned soft as butter, and she began to sob with relief. She dropped her bags and car keys and pulled the girl into her arms.

“Good Lord, Lilly! You really gave me a scare,” she whispered. “I’ve been looking all over the mall for you.”

“I had to go to the bathroom so bad.” Lilly flung her little arms around Pia’s neck and rubbed her cheek against Pia’s. “And then I couldn’t find you. I … I thought you … you were mad at me and drove off without me.…”

The little girl was sobbing, too.

“Oh, Lilly dear, I’d never do that.” Pia stroked her hair and rocked her in her arms. She never wanted to let her go. “What do you say we go have an ice-cream cone and then buy you another dress, hmm?”

“Oh yeah.” Beneath her tears, there was a glimmer of a smile. “Ice cream sounds great.”

“Well, let’s go, then.” Pia stood up. Lilly clutched her hand tightly.

“I’ll never let you go again,” Pia promised.

*   *   *

After a quarter of an hour, the matter under discussion, which was Behnke’s attempt to discredit his former boss, had been roundly dismissed. Based on the available records and reports, Bodenstein was able to prove indisputably that he had investigated the suspicious circumstances in the case of the aggravated assault against Friedhelm Döring in 2005, before he’d had to terminate the investigation due to lack of evidence.

The three-person commission from Internal Affairs was satisfied, and Bodenstein and Dr. Nicola Engel were found blameless of any wrongdoing. Behnke had sat in silence, red in the face and seething like a pressure cooker. Bodenstein wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a shrill whistle come out of his ears.

While Nicola Engel was still speaking with the director of the presiding office to which the Department of Internal Affairs belonged, Bodenstein waited outside in the hall and spent the time checking his iPhone. No important developments. He was glad that the whole matter had been dispatched so swiftly, because he didn’t want to arrive late at the appointment with the notary and the buyer. Last week, he’d reached an agreement with the bankrupt owner of half of the duplex in Ruppertshain, and the day before yesterday he’d gotten the green light from the savings bank for the financing. Inka had contacted the contractor firms at once, and they could resume work in mid-July. The prospect of being able to live within his own four walls in less than six months from now, and to stop renting lodgings at his parents’ estate, had given Bodenstein a real burst of energy. After two long, dismal years with no sense of purpose, he now felt that he was finally standing at the rudder and able to determine the direction his life would take. Some men suffered a midlife crisis after fifty, but it had struck him a year earlier. While he waited for the commissioner, he thought about furniture that he wanted to buy, and about the design of the garden. He wondered whether it was going to be painful to clear out the house that he and Cosima had built and lived in for twenty-five years.

“Bodenstein!”

He turned around. Frank Behnke was coming toward him. Barely suppressed anger flashed in his eyes, and for a moment Bodenstein had the crazy idea that Behnke was going to pull out his service weapon and gun him down in the corridor of State Criminal Police headquarters just to be rid of his own pent-up frustration.

“I don’t know what kind of strings you pulled,” he snarled. “But I’m going to find out. You’re covering up something big-time.”

Bodenstein scrutinized the man who had once been a close colleague. He felt neither malicious glee nor animosity toward Behnke, who had failed in his efforts to prove Bodenstein guilty of dereliction of duty. He felt sorry for Behnke. Something had gone fundamentally wrong in his life. His bitterness was eating him up, and now his inferiority complex and vengefulness had taken him over completely. For a long time, Bodenstein had protected his younger colleague, showing him more leniency than was fair to the rest of his team. Too long. Behnke hadn’t listened to any of his admonitions and in the end had pushed things so far that Bodenstein had been forced to distance himself from the man in order not to be pulled into the maelstrom of events.

“Frank, let’s put this behind us for good,” Bodenstein said in a conciliatory tone of voice. “For my part, I’ll forget the whole thing here and now, and I won’t hold it against you.”

“Oh, how gracious of you!” Behnke gave a spiteful laugh. “I don’t give a shit whether you’re going to hold anything against me or not. You dropped me like a hot potato when Kirchhoff joined the team. I’m not going to forget that. Ever. From that day on, I was relegated to second best. And I know for a fact that Kirchhoff and Fachinger have always complained about me. Those two bitches made me look ridiculous. And you let them do it.”

Bodenstein frowned in disbelief.

“Okay, let’s back up here for a moment,” he replied. “I won’t permit you to speak of our female colleagues in that tone. It’s all completely untrue—”

“The hell it is!” Behnke shouted, cutting him off, and Bodenstein realized what enormous and pathological proportions Behnke’s jealousy had assumed. “You’ve always been henpecked. Your wife made you a cuckold. And…” He paused for effect, crossing his arms and smirking with spite. “And I happen to know for a fact that you fucked Engel!”

“That’s right,” said a voice behind him. Nicola Engel gave him an icy smile, looking very self-composed. “And not only once, dear colleague. We were engaged at one point. About thirty years ago.”

Bodenstein watched Behnke wrestling desperately with his self-control as what he viewed as a triumph again dissipated like smoke before his eyes.

Nicola Engel stepped closer, and he retreated, a reflexive gesture of subordination that infuriated him even more.

“I hope you’re aware that you were given your last chance in this job, and you remain on the force solely thanks to my intervention,” she said in a low voice that was nevertheless razor-sharp. “In the future, you should not allow personal motives to guide your work, or else you’ll wind up at the Police Academy cleaning blackboards. I’ve already spoken with your superior and assured him that Bodenstein and I will not waste another word on this whole unpleasant matter. I’ve saved your ass for the third or fourth time now, Behnke. And now we’re finally quits. I hope we understand each other.”

Frank Behnke gulped with clenched teeth and nodded reluctantly. The hostility in his blue eyes was murderous. Without a word, he turned and left.

“There’s going to be more trouble with him,” Nicola Engel prophesied glumly. “He’s a ticking time bomb.”

“I shouldn’t have protected him for so long,” said Bodenstein. “That was a mistake. He should have been sent for therapy.”

Nicola Engel raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

“No. It was too bad he survived that suicide attempt.”

The coldness with which she made this statement shocked Bodenstein. And yet he again realized why she’d climbed the career ladder so fast, while he hadn’t. She knew no scruples. Doubtless, Dr. Nicola Engel had the stuff to reach the very top.

*   *   *

Ever since Florian had moved out, Emma had felt vulnerable and unsure. The proof of his unfaithfulness and his persistent silence in the face of her reproaches and questions had made her aware that deep inside she’d never been really sure about him. She couldn’t rely on him, and that depressed her the most, more even than the fact that he had betrayed her.

The center of Königstein was packed, and Emma had to drive all the way up to the Luxemburg Castle to find a parking place. She might not have taken the whole situation so seriously if she hadn’t been so hugely pregnant. But things might not have gone so far if she hadn’t looked like a walrus. She fought back the tears as she crossed the playground and headed for the pedestrian street through the spa park. She hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew. She was in no mood to chat or indulge in superficial small talk. People expected pregnant women to be blissfully anticipating the baby and not walking around weeping.

At the bookshop, Emma picked up three books she had ordered, then went over to Café Kreiner next door and sat down at the last free table under the awning. She was bathed in sweat, and her legs felt like they were going to burst at any moment. Even so, she ordered a dish of chocolate ice cream with extra whipped cream. A few extra pounds no longer mattered.

But what was going to happen? In a little more than two weeks, the baby was due, and then she’d be living with two young children with her in-laws, without a real home, without a husband, without money. The uncertainty had been robbing her of sleep lately, hanging over her like an ominous shadow. And what was worse, Florian was going to pick up Louisa for the weekend. She’d thought he’d be glad to be rid of his family for a while, but to her surprise, he had insisted on his right to have his daughter over every other weekend. Emma was absolutely not happy about the idea, and she had agreed only reluctantly. Should she retract her consent? She didn’t even know where he would be taking Louisa. Apparently, he was living in a boardinghouse. That was hardly the proper surroundings for a five-year-old girl who also happened to be going through a difficult phase.

Emma slurped up her chocolate ice cream. The people around her were talking and laughing, carefree and happy. Was she the only one who had problems?

No one knew yet what had happened between her and Florian. For everyone else, his absence was perfectly normal, since he was often gone for weeks or months at a time in some foreign country. Emma had told her in-laws something about a lecture tour, and they’d accepted the lie without question. But today, when Florian picked up Louisa, she was going to have to tell them the truth.

“Hello, Emma.”

She gave a start and looked up. Standing in front of her was Sarah, loaded down with shopping bags.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Her friend set down her handbag and purchases next to the table. “Could I join you for a moment?”

“Hello, Sarah. Yes, of course.”

“It’s sure hot today. Whew.”

Sarah didn’t mind the heat; she never sweated, even when it was one hundred degrees in the shade. Florian’s adopted sister was a petite doll with big dark eyes and delicate facial features. Her glossy black hair was plaited as usual into a thick braid. She was wearing a lime green sleeveless summer dress with matching suede open-toe shoes, a perfect contrast to her velvety, golden-brown skin, which she’d inherited from her East Indian ancestors. Emma desperately envied her figure, which she was able to maintain without starving herself or taking up sports.

“You look a little down.” Sarah put her hand on Emma’s arm. “Is something wrong?”

Emma heaved a sigh and shrugged.

“What’s bothering you?” Sarah asked.

Emma tried to think of a noncommittal reply. Nothing, she wanted to say. I’m fine.

“Is it something with Florian?”

It was spooky how Sarah could be downright clairvoyant. Emma bit her lip. She was a disciplined, pragmatic person, not one of those women who wailed and cried on their friends’ shoulders. Even as a child, she had been used to solving her own problems; it was always hard for her to talk about them. She would rather bury her worries under restless activity, and so far that method had worked for her.

Suddenly, she realized she was thinking way too much. That wasn’t good.

“You can talk to me about it,” Sarah said gently. “You know that. Sometimes it helps just to talk about what’s wrong.”

Talk, talk, talk! That’s exactly what Emma didn’t want to do.

“Florian is cheating on me,” she whispered at last.

And then the tears came.

“He hasn’t slept with me since last November,” she sobbed. “Before we used to have sex at least three times a week, and now … if I try to touch him, he pulls away. It’s so humiliating.”

She wiped away her tears, but new ones kept streaming down her face, as if a dam had burst inside her.

“I mean, he did contribute to me looking like this, after all. It seems to me that … that he wants to punish me. Damn it, I hate being pregnant. And I’m not looking forward to the baby at all.”

“Emma!” Sarah leaned over and took her hands. “You can’t say that. A baby, a new human being, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. It’s the greatest privilege that we women have. Of course it’s difficult and painful, and we have to make great sacrifices, but that’s all forgotten once the baby arrives. A lot of men are unconsciously jealous. Some even feel suddenly scared of their partner and the baby growing in her belly. They might act irrationally, but that will pass. Believe me. You have to make some allowances for your husband. He’s not hurting you on purpose.”

Emma stared at her friend in disbelief.

“You … you’re saying it’s acceptable, the way Florian is behaving?” she whispered. “Ten days ago, I found an empty condom wrapper in his jeans, and he owes me an explanation! He didn’t say a word when I asked him whether he was seeing someone else. Instead, he packed up his things and moved out, to some … some boardinghouse in Frankfurt. I got the impression he was really happy to get away from here. Away from me and his parents! And then he suggested that I stay here until the baby is born.”

Sarah listened mutely.

“Who knows what he did or how often he betrayed me when he was alone for weeks in some camp,” Emma blurted out. “Damn it, I can’t take it anymore.”

She shook off Sarah’s hands. Black spots were dancing before her eyes, and she felt dizzy. The heat was making her circulation go crazy. The baby had woken up, and she felt it kicking her. All at once, she felt like she was carrying an alien being in her belly.

“I feel so alone,” she sobbed in despair. “What am I going to do with Louisa when I have to go to the hospital? How is this all going to work out? Where am I going to go with two kids and no money?”

Sarah stroked Emma’s arm.

“But you’ll be in good hands with us,” she said sympathetically. “You can have your baby at our place in the birthing center. Louisa can stay with Renate, Corinna, or me, and she can visit you anytime. And if everything goes well, you’ll be home the next day.”

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