Snow White Must Die (49 page)

“I think I’ll go home.” Pia yawned and stretched. “Can I drive you somewhere?”

“No, no. You go ahead,” said Bodenstein. “I’ll take one of the official cars.”

“Are you okay so far?”

“So far, yes.” Bodenstein shrugged. “Life goes on. Somehow.”

She gave him another dubious glance, then grabbed her jacket and purse and left. Bodenstein got up and turned off the TV. All day long he had managed to banish the unpleasant encounter with Cosima from his mind through hectic activity, but now the memory came back in a nasty, galling wave. How could he have lost control like that? He switched off the fluorescent lights and slowly walked down the hall to his office. The guest room at his parents’ house tempted him as little as a tavern. He might as well spend the night at his desk. He closed the door behind him and hesitated for a moment in the middle of the room, which was bathed in a weak glow from the streetlights outside. He was a failure as a husband and a police officer. Cosima preferred a thirty-five-year-old to him, and Amelie, Thies, and Tobias were probably long dead because he hadn’t found them in time. The past lay in ruins, and the future didn’t look much rosier.

*   *   *

If she leaned down and stretched out her arm, she could touch the surface of the water with her fingertips. The water was rising much faster than Amelie had thought it would, and obviously there was no drain anywhere. Not much longer and they’d be sitting in the water up here on the bookshelf. And even if they didn’t drown, because the water would flow out through the sliver of a window near the ceiling, they would die from hypothermia. It was cold as hell. And Thies’s condition had worsened dramatically. He was shivering and sweating, his body hot with fever. Mostly he seemed to sleep, his arm wrapped around her, but when he was awake, he talked. What he said was so scary and sinister that Amelie wanted to cry.

As if someone had pulled aside a black curtain in her mind, her memory was again crystal clear and she knew how she had ended up in this hole of a cellar. The Lauterbach woman must have put some kind of drug in the water and in the crackers, because she had fallen asleep every time she ate or drank anything. But now she could remember what happened. Dr. Lauterbach had called her and waited in the parking lot, friendly and concerned, begging her to come along to visit Thies, since he was having such a hard time. Without hesitation Amelie got into the doctor’s car—and woke up in this cellar. In the condemned buildings in Berlin, the homeless shelters, and on the streets of the city, she thought she’d seen all the evil that existed in this world, but it had only been a pale glimmer of how cruel people could be. Living in Altenhain, this idyllic little village that she had considered so boring and desolate, were merciless, brutal monsters, disguised behind masks of bourgeois respectability. If she ever got out of this cellar alive, she would never trust anyone again for the rest of her life. How could a human being do something so horrific to someone else? Why hadn’t Thies’s parents ever realized what the nice, friendly neighbor woman had done to their son? How could a whole village look on in silence as an innocent young man was sentenced to ten years in prison while the true criminals got off scot-free? In the long hours of darkness Thies had gradually told her everything he knew about the gruesome events in Altenhain, and that was a lot. No wonder Dr. Lauterbach wanted him dead. The instant she had this thought, Amelie was filled with the shattering certainty that the two of them were going to die. The Lauterbach woman wasn’t stupid. She would have made sure that nobody would find them here. Or at least not until it was too late.

*   *   *

Bodenstein rested his chin in his hand and stared at the empty cognac glass. How could he have been so wrong about Daniela Lauterbach? Her husband had murdered Stefanie Schneeberger in the heat of the moment, but she was ice cold. She had covered up what he’d done and threatened Thies Terlinden for years afterward, doping him up with drugs and intimidating him. She had allowed Tobias Sartorius to go to prison and sat by as his parents went through hell.

Bodenstein reached for the bottle of Rémy Martin that he’d once received as a gift and which had stood unopened for over a year in his cabinet. He loathed the stuff, but he was in the mood for something alcoholic. All day long he hadn’t eaten a bite, drinking way too much coffee. In one gulp he emptied the third glass of cognac in fifteen minutes and grimaced. The liquor kindled a small, agreeable fire in his stomach, flowed through his bloodstream, and relaxed him. His gaze wandered to the framed photograph of Cosima next to the telephone. She was smiling at him, as she had done for years. He didn’t hold it against her that this morning she had ambushed him and provoked him to say and do despicable things. He still regretted having lost control that way. Although she was the one who had ruined everything, he felt himself in the wrong. And that bothered him at least as much as his arrogant belief that he’d had a perfect marriage. Cosima had chosen to cheat on him with a younger man because he no longer satisfied her as a man. She had been bored with him and so she sought out another man, an adventurer like herself. This thought drove his feeling of self-worth to sink even lower than he would have thought possible. There was a knock on the door as he downed his fourth cognac.

“Yes?”

Nicola Engel stuck her head in the door.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Come in.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. She entered his office, closed the door behind her, and came closer.

“I’ve just gotten word that Lauterbach has been stripped of his immunity. The court has approved the arrest warrant for him and Ms. von Bredow.” She remained standing in front of his desk and eyed him. “My God, you look terrible. I didn’t realize this case was taking such a toll on you.”

What should he say to that? He was too tired to give a tactically intelligent answer. He still couldn’t really read Nicola. Was she asking out of genuine human interest or because she wanted to use his failures as the final nail in the coffin and put an end to his role as the head of K-11?

“The attendant circumstances have been getting to me,” he finally admitted. “Behnke, Hasse. This stupid talk about Pia and me.”

“There’s nothing to it, is there?”

“No, of course not.” He leaned back. His neck was sore, and he grimaced again. Her eyes fell on the cognac.

“Have you got another glass?”

“In the cabinet. Bottom left.”

She turned around, opened the cabinet door, took out a glass, and sat down on one of the visitors’ chairs facing his desk. He poured her a finger’s width, then filled his own glass almost to the brim. Nicola Engel raised her eyebrows but said nothing. He said “Cheers” and drank without putting the glass down.

“What’s really wrong?” she wanted to know. She was a sharp observer, and she’d known him for a long time now. Before he met Cosima, whom he married soon afterward, he and Nicola had been a couple for two years. Why try to fool her? Soon everybody would find out anyway, especially when he gave them his new address.

“Cosima has found somebody else,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible. “I’d had my suspicions for a while, and a couple of days ago she admitted it.”

“Oh.” It didn’t sound like schadenfreude. But she couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry. He didn’t care. He grabbed the bottle, filled his glass again. Nicola looked at him without saying a word. He drank. Felt the effect of the alcohol on an empty stomach and understood why people, under certain circumstances, turned into alcoholics. Cosima retreated all the way to the back of his consciousness, and his worries about Amelie, Thies, and Daniela Lauterbach went up in smoke.

“I’m not a good cop,” he said. “Or a good boss. You should look for somebody else to do my job.”

“Not on your life,” she answered firmly. “When I started here last year, that was my intention, I admit. But now I’ve had a year to watch your management style and the way you lead your team. I could use a few more people like you.”

He didn’t say anything to this, and wanted to pour himself another cognac, but the bottle was empty. He casually tossed the bottle in the wastebasket and followed it with Cosima’s photo. When he picked up the basket, he met Nicola’s searching look.

“I think you should call it a day,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s almost midnight. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I don’t have a home anymore,” he reminded her. “I’m living with my parents again. Funny, right?”

“Better than a hotel. So, come on. Let’s go.”

Bodenstein didn’t budge. He didn’t move his gaze from her face. Suddenly he remembered the first time he’d met her, more than twenty-seven years ago, at a party given by a fellow student. He’d been standing around in the tiny kitchen with a couple of guys drinking beer. He hadn’t really noticed the girls at the party, because the disappointment over breaking up with Inka was still too fresh in his mind for him to consider a new relationship. In front of the door to the toilet he met Nicola. She had looked him over from head to toe and in her inimitable direct way said something to him that caused him to leave the party with her on the spot, without even saying good-bye to the host. That time he had also been drunk and in pain, the way he was today. Unexpectedly a wave of heat raced through his body and shot into his abdomen like glowing lava.

“I like you,” he repeated her words from back then in a hoarse voice. “Do you feel like having sex?”

Nicola looked at him in surprise, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Why not?” She hadn’t forgotten their first conversation either. “I just have to make a quick trip to the toilet first.”

Monday, November 24, 2008

“You wore this same shirt and tie yesterday,” Pia noted with a sharp look when Bodenstein joined her in the still empty conference room. “And you haven’t shaved.”

“Your powers of observation are truly phenomenal,” he replied dryly, heading for the coffee machine. “In my hasty departure I unfortunately couldn’t take my whole wardrobe with me.”

“Right.” Pia grinned. “I always took you for somebody who would put on fresh clothes every day, even in the trenches. Or did you happen to take my advice?”

“Please, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Bodenstein’s expression was unreadable as he poured milk in his coffee. Pia was just about to reply when Ostermann appeared in the doorway.

“What bad news do you have for us today, Mr. Detective Superintendent?” asked Bodenstein. Ostermann gave first his boss, then Pia an annoyed look. They just shrugged.

“Tobias Sartorius called his father last night. He’s in a hospital in Switzerland,” said Ostermann. “Still no news of Amelie, Thies, or Dr. Lauterbach.”

Behind him Kathrin Fachinger appeared, followed by Nicola Engel and Sven Jansen.

“Good morning,” said the commissioner. “I’m bringing the reinforcements I promised. DI Jansen will work temporarily with the K-11 team, Bodenstein. If you have no objections.”

“That’s fine.” Bodenstein nodded to their colleague from the burglary division. He had accompanied Pia yesterday to interview Terlinden. Everyone sat down at the table. Only Nicola Engel excused herself and headed for the door. There she turned around and said, “Could I have a word with you in private?”

Bodenstein got up, followed her out to the hall, and closed the door behind him.

“Behnke obtained a temporary court order appealing his suspension and at the same time reported in sick,” said Nicola Engel in a low voice. “His legal adviser is a lawyer from the firm of Dr. Anders. How can he afford that?”

“Anders will take a case like that pro bono,” said Bodenstein. “All he cares about are the headlines.”

“Okay, we’ll wait and see what happens.” Nicola Engel looked Bodenstein up and down. “I also learned something else this morning. Actually I wanted to tell you this at a better moment, but before you hear it from someone else through a leak…”

He gave her a wary look. It could be anything, beginning with his suspension to the news that she would be taking over leadership of the National Criminal Police. It was typical of Nicola never to show her cards too soon.

“Congratulations on your promotion,” she announced to him to his surprise. “First Chief Detective Inspector Oliver von Bodenstein. Including a raise in your pay grade. What do you say to that?”

She smiled at him expectantly.

“Does this mean that I’ve slept my way to the top?” he replied. The commissioner grinned, but then turned serious.

“Do you regret last night?” she wanted to know.

Bodenstein cocked his head. “I wouldn’t say that,” he answered. “What about you?”

“Me neither. Although I don’t usually care for reheated food.”

He grinned, and she turned to go.

“Oh, Ms. Commissioner…”

She stopped.

“Perhaps … we could repeat it occasionally?”

Then she grinned too.

“I’ll think it over, Mr. Chief Detective. See you later.”

He watched her go until she turned the corner, then reached for the door handle. Suddenly and unexpectedly he was filled with an almost painful feeling of happiness. Not because he had avenged himself by cheating on Cosima—and with his boss to boot, whom she despised with all her heart—but because at this moment he felt freer than he’d ever felt in his life. Last night his future had unfolded before him with breathtaking clarity, revealing undreamt-of possibilities, after he’d been trudging around for a week feeling deeply hurt and full of self-pity. Not that he had ever felt trapped at Cosima’s side, but now he sensed that even though his marriage had failed, it didn’t mean that his life was over. Quite the opposite. Not everyone at the age of fifty got another chance.

*   *   *

Amelie’s legs felt like they had frozen to ice, yet she was sweating all over. With all her might she tried to keep Thies’s head above water. The buoyancy of the water, which had now risen to a good sixteen inches above the top shelf, had made it possible for her to shift his body to a sitting position. Fortunately the bookshelf was screwed solidly into the wall, or it probably would have tipped over long ago. Gasping, Amelie inhaled and tried to ease her cramped muscles. With her right arm she held Thies tight while with her left she tried to touch the ceiling. A foot and a half of air was left, no more.