This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2017 by Anna Johannsen
Translation copyright © 2019 by Lisa Reinhardt
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Previously published as Der Tote im Strandkorb by Edition M in Luxembourg in 2017. Translated from German by Lisa Reinhardt. First published in English by Thomas & Mercer in collaboration with Amazon Crossing in 2019.
Published by Thomas & Mercer in collaboration with Amazon Crossing, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, Thomas & Mercer and Amazon Crossing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542003797
ISBN-10: 1542003792
Cover design by @blacksheep-uk.com
First edition
CONTENTS
Prologue
1
2
3
4
The police are...
5
6
It’s high time...
7
8
9
10
11
I regret nothing...
12
13
14
I feel sick...
15
16
17
18
19
I have to...
20
21
22
23
Epilogue
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Prologue
He’s dead.
But his death was much too easy, overlooking the North Sea and the wide Kniepsand beach. I would rather he had died in a hole in the ground, dark and damp. Screaming with fear.
It was so easy. He had no idea, not even in his final seconds. I wish he’d known what he was paying for. That’s the only thing I regret. Not his death – he brought that upon himself. He’s responsible for how he met his end.
I hate him. His arrogance, his spiteful grin, his dead eyes. He is the perpetrator, not the victim.
I won’t justify my actions. It was right and the only option.
He is dead.
But others still live.
It’s a start. Nothing more.
1
Lena answered the call.
‘Yes?’ she said, not bothering to check the name on the display.
‘Inspector Lorenzen, do you have a moment?’ said Detective Superintendent Joachim Warnke. His tone was relaxed but Lena knew her boss wasn’t asking.
‘I’ll be there in five,’ she said coldly and hung up.
Their relationship had been less than cordial ever since Lena’s stint under DSU Warnke’s command during a special investigation. Unusually for him, he had led this investigation personally. An eight-year-old boy from Lübeck had been reported missing by his parents, but in spite of a large-scale search there was no trace of him. When there was still no ransom demand after four days, DSU Warnke had focussed the main search on known paedophiles in the Lübeck area. When Lena pointed out that the child’s parents had been excluded as suspects far too quickly, her boss simply didn’t want to know. And her own investigations had led nowhere. She’d had little chance of teasing out the contradictions in the parents’ statements without the police force to back her. Despite her discretion in continuing her own research, a colleague had found out and within a few brief hours, she had been summoned to the super’s office. She had received a black mark in her personnel file and been excluded from the remainder of the investigation. The missing boy was never found, and the unit had shrunk until the case was closed altogether.
Lena now knocked on the door and entered Warnke’s office.
‘Take a seat,’ said her boss, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. ‘You grew up on Amrum, didn’t you?’ he asked.
‘Born and bred. Why do you ask?’
‘So you know the island well?’ he asked, ignoring her question.
‘I left the island after I finished high school. If I hadn’t, I’d hardly be here – not as a DI, anyway. But you’ve read my personnel file.’ Lena stressed the words personnel file.
Warnke pretended not to notice and continued, ‘Any relatives on the island?’
‘Yes,’ said Lena, wondering where this strange conversation was leading.
‘Ever heard of the children’s home in’ – he checked his notes – ‘Norddorf?’
‘Only from hearsay.’
‘So you’re not acquainted with or related to its director, Hein Bohlen?’
‘Afraid not,’ Lena said with growing irritation. ‘Would you be so kind as to tell me what this is about?’
‘Bear with me, Inspector.’ Warnke’s attempt at a smile failed. ‘This Hein Bohlen was found dead at the beach two weeks ago. He was sitting in a beach chair – you know, one of those big wicker constructions with a roof and sides you can hire on most of the beaches up there. Our colleagues on Amrum called the local doctor who decided the cause of death was a heart attack. Apparently, he’d been treating Herr Bohlen for years. The doctor issued the death certificate and the case would have been open and shut.’ DSU Warnke paused. ‘Luckily, his next of kin demanded a post-mortem. To cut to the chase, someone raised doubts about the cause of death, and all of a sudden the local uniform agreed to class the case as suicide. By then, things had started to snowball and the body was brought to Forensics here in Kiel. They haven’t finished examining it, but so far, the suspicion of foul play appears corroborated. In the meantime, the case was handed on to the next-higher authority and our colleagues in Flensburg have since discreetly asked the Criminal Investigation Department for assistance.’
‘Discreetly?’ asked Lena, surprised.
‘Like I said, there are no definitive results from the post-mortem yet, only strong suspicions.’
‘Which are?’
DSU Warnke swallowed. He knew he had to give Lena Lorenzen more than vague guesswork. ‘Poison – a tropical poison, according to Dr Hinrichsen, and probably something that breaks down fast in the body, something difficult to detect. But yes, he believes he’s found changes to the vital organs suggesting poison. He’s contacted the Institute for Tropical Medicine in Hamburg, but it could be a while before we hear back. The poison in question may still be unknown to medical science. I told the people in Flensburg that I’m sending one of my men – or women, rather – to the island to investigate. They’ve assigned a young DS from their team to assist you. You have free rein.’
He slid a folder across the desk. ‘Copies of all the documents.’
Lena groaned inwardly. Try as she might, she couldn’t work it out. Why had Warnke picked her? It certainly wasn’t because of his profound faith in her. Following the incident with the special investigation, she had nearly been demoted by one rank, until Warnke’s retired predecessor, Enno Eilts, had intervened on her behalf and saved her from demotion or even worse. Something was seriously wrong with this assignment.
‘You don’t trust me,’ Warnke said, ‘and I don’t blame you. Our relationship is somewhat . . . strained. Would that be fair to say?’
Now Lena was really confused. The superintendent had never spoken to her in this way before. He sounded open and honest, which Lena found extremely unsettling. What r
eally lay behind this case?
‘Yes, that would be fair to say,’ she said eventually.
‘My mother told me it always takes two to argue.’
Lena looked him in the eye. ‘Your mother is a wise woman.’
‘She was! Only I realised that much too late. Never mind.’ He nudged the folder a little closer to Lena. ‘What do you say? Don’t you think the Amrum case is perfect for you?’
Why do I feel I can’t trust him? Lena thought. Something’s not right.
‘I’m hardly in a position to turn down a case that’s been assigned to me,’ she said stiffly.
DSU Warnke raised an eyebrow. ‘An interesting choice of words – inaccurate, however. You may decline, without consequences. I can put that in writing, if you like.’
Lena checked her watch. ‘I’ll take the late-afternoon ferry. Have the local police been informed?’
‘They will be as soon as you walk out of my office.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Please report to me alone.’ He handed her a sheet of paper. ‘Only use this email address and phone number if you need to contact me.’ Lena studied the note. Neither the address nor the number were familiar and she guessed they must be his personal contact details. ‘Will you trust me for once?’ he said.
‘I’d like the assignment in writing.’
Warnke passed her a letter. ‘I thought you might. Will this do?’
Lena skimmed through the text, nodded and rose. ‘One report a day?’
Warnke stood up also and held out his hand in farewell. ‘Yes, that’ll do. Good luck, and look after yourself.’
Lena tried to keep her expression neutral. She’d have liked to tell him that this time round she’d certainly be playing her cards more closely to her chest than before. ‘Can I count on you to have my back?’
‘One hundred per cent.’
She nodded and headed for the door, then turned around one last time. ‘I’ll be in touch. Tomorrow night at the latest.’
Lena parked her work car, an older VW Passat saloon, outside the Institute of Forensic Medicine in Kiel, housed in one of the many unattractive red-brick buildings built since the war. Eighty per cent of Kiel had been destroyed in World War II because of its important naval port. At the time, the fjord of Kiel was the largest ships’ graveyard in the world with more than three hundred and fifty sunken vessels.
Lena had spent the last two hours going through the files and making several phone calls. She didn’t like the thought of acting as Warnke’s puppet and hated being no more than a pawn in a game of chess, waiting to be sacrificed for the king or queen at any moment.
Her first phone call had been to Enno Eilts, who had been just as puzzled as Lena at hearing the news.
‘I have no idea what’s going on,’ he said. Lena could tell by his voice that he was worried for her. ‘Warnke must be up to something. I can’t imagine that your knowledge of the island is the only reason for recruiting you. There must be something else – he didn’t give you any clues?’
‘No, nothing. And I had the feeling that more questions would have been pointless.’
‘He’ll throw you to the wolves if it’s in his own interest. It infuriated him when he failed to have you demoted that time. Warnke is a resentful and calculating man.’
‘I won’t make the same mistake twice,’ Lena said. ‘Do you think I should’ve turned him down?’
‘He knew you’d accept. I bet it was part of his plan. The only advice I can offer is to watch your back. I’ll keep an ear to the ground and let you know as soon as I learn anything.’
‘Thanks, Enno.’
Their goodbyes had been heartfelt. Her next phone call had been to Leon, who wasn’t particularly happy to hear her voice. They had known each other for almost three years, since he’d come into the firing line of an investigation and Lena had saved him from prosecution. Since then, Leon had helped her out now and again, gathering information fast and without a court order. His computer hacking skills had led to breakthroughs in several of Lena’s cases. After some humming and hawing, he finally agreed to look into Hein Bohlen’s email account.
Her third call had been to Ben, a colleague at the Flensburg constabulary who she had met at a conference. They didn’t talk for long, and Ben promised to let her know if he heard anything. Two more phone calls later and she was finally on her way.
Lena now walked into the Institute of Forensic Medicine, hurried up to the first floor and along the corridor until she reached the door she was looking for. She knocked and went in.
‘Moin, Lena – good morning!’ came the greeting from the attractive, dark-haired woman behind the desk, along with a friendly smile.
Lena had rung Dr Luise Stahnke from her office and told her she was coming by. The two women had met three years ago in the course of a difficult investigation and had quickly become firm friends.
Lena gave Luise a hug and then seated herself in the chair in front of her desk.
‘Let’s take a look then,’ Luise said, opening the folder Lena had slid across the desk.
Lena gave the pathologist a few moments to skim through the files, then asked, ‘You’ve heard?’
Luise nodded. ‘Yes. Sounds like a tricky and puzzling case. Jochen Hinrichsen and I talked about it the day before yesterday. He’s convinced he’d have found traces of a tropical poison if the body had been brought to us sooner.’
‘Do you think that’s likely? I’ve never heard of such a poison.’
‘Me neither, to be honest. But, as you know, that’s not my area of expertise.’
‘So what makes him think he would’ve found poison?’
‘The damage to the heart, apparently. I don’t want to bore you with the medical details, but to be honest, I didn’t fully get it myself. I’ve never come across a case like this, but if there’s anyone who knows anything about such things, it’s Jochen. Guesswork won’t hold up in court, however.’
‘Any idea how fast-acting such a poison might be and how it would be administered?’
‘Hard to say when we don’t know exactly what toxin we’re dealing with. It’s too much speculation in my book. I’m sorry – I know that’s no help at all to you, and you came here hoping for clues.’ She sighed. ‘Since Jochen couldn’t find any needle punctures or anything else suggesting the poison was absorbed through the skin, chances are the victim took the substance orally.’
‘How fast can a poison taken orally act?’
‘Well, that’s precisely what bothers me. A toxin needs to enter the bloodstream to take effect. And what’s more, a poison of that type can usually be traced for years.’
Lena looked at her friend in confusion. ‘I’m not sure I follow . . .’
‘Jochen said it must be an entirely new or unknown poison, which can cause death even when taken orally and which breaks down almost instantly.’
‘In other words, a super-poison for all potential murderers.’
‘I know how it sounds, but Jochen seems to think it’s a real possibility, which is why he called in our colleagues at the Institute for Tropical Medicine for support, though he said it’ll take a while.’
‘All sounds a bit mysterious, doesn’t it? Hand on heart, Luise, what do you reckon to this?’
Luise Stahnke avoided the question. ‘It’s a pity Jochen isn’t here or you could have asked him yourself. He’s off on some professional development course in Munich.’
‘I know. But that’s not the only reason I came to you. So?’
Luise groaned. ‘Honestly? It sounds like a load of old bull to me. Even if it’s not my area of expertise, the theory’s just too full of holes. I have no idea what’s going on.’
‘I feared as much. When can we expect results from the tropical institute?’
‘A week at least, if not more.’ Luise gave Lena a worried look. ‘If the poison theory proves false, it probably won’t turn out to be murder or manslaughter. Why did you take this assignment on? Isn’t Warnke—?’
‘I know,
Luise. It was a gut decision. I accepted on instinct. Sorry, I must ask one more time: how long does it take for someone to die once a poison enters the bloodstream?’
Luise groaned again. ‘God, you’re like a dog with a bone – you just won’t leave it alone, will you? All right, well . . . it could be anything from seconds to hours. I realise that’s not much help to you.’
‘What would you say is most likely?’
‘The questions you ask! I’m a scientist, not a clairvoyant. If this new, mysterious poison actually exists, it could be anything. How could I possibly give an estimate?’
‘And if you had to give one anyway, what would you—?’
‘Not long,’ Luise said, cutting her off. ‘Ten minutes to half an hour. But like I said, this is pure guesswork and I’d never repeat it in public.’
‘Thanks, anyway.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the results from Hamburg?’
‘I don’t have the time. My investigation has to start right now. Every passing day destroys more clues – you know the game.’
‘Amrum . . . Didn’t you grow up there?’
Now it was Lena’s turn to groan. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘You don’t talk much about the island and your teenage years. Or do I have memory gaps due to our excessive alcohol consumption?’
‘No, you don’t.’
‘Good!’ Luise looked at her friend expectantly.
‘Another time. I need to go if I want to catch the last ferry.’
The two friends hugged each other farewell and Lena promised to get in touch over the next few days.
2
‘Lena Lorenzen.’
‘Hello, DI Lorenzen. This is Detective Sergeant Johann Grasmann from Flensburg police.’
‘You’re up to speed?’
‘Of course! I’ve organised accommodation on Amrum and studied the ferry timetable. What time would you prefer to depart?’
‘We’ll take the last ferry.’
‘Roger that! I’ll meet you by the dock at Dagebüll. Is there anything else you require of me?’
Lena grinned and was tempted to bark, ‘Dismissed!’ Instead she said, ‘No thanks, all good. I look forward to working with you. See you later!’
The Body on the Beach Page 1