‘As I remember correctly, I saved you from several years behind bars.’
‘You know very well that my partner tried to pin everything on me.’
‘Yes or no?’
‘Police. What next – FBI? Pentagon?’
Lena said nothing.
‘I’ll try,’ Leon said eventually. ‘But I need time. One night at least. I’ll have to . . . never mind. You don’t care anyway.’
‘Thanks, Leon,’ Lena said, but he’d already hung up. She sighed. He was right. She’d demanded his help several times over the last couple of years without offering anything in return. She assumed Leon would be asking for some service in kind pretty soon or refuse to come to her aid again.
Lena turned her attention to the personnel file. It sounded as though not everyone in Schleswig had been a fan of Reimers either. One of his colleagues had made a complaint about the rude tone he used with female subordinates. They’d held a mediation session and Reimers had vowed to mend his ways. Lena texted Enno Eilts with the news that Reimers had indeed worked in Schleswig – with a bit of luck, Enno would find someone who knew more than the file offered.
There was nothing of interest in the rest of Reimers’ history. Lena closed the email and opened Johann’s report. She skimmed through the facts and focussed on the homes Isabel Müller had been placed in as a child. When she compared them with the list from Hein Bohlen’s employers, she found they’d never been at the same home. She decided to question the teacher again once they knew more about the circumstances of her brother’s death.
Lastly, she clicked on the link Leon had sent her. It led to over a thousand emails from Hein Bohlen’s inbox over the last twelve months. Lena groaned and started with the messages from the weeks preceding his death. The director had exchanged emails with children’s services at various local authorities, with tradesmen who’d done work at the home, with his accountant and a few others who had a connection with the home in one way or another. Lena scanned the subject lines of several hundred emails and found nothing relevant to her investigation. Then she opened the file with the deleted emails Leon had found. Aside from five uninteresting emails, there was a brief message from a certain Herbert Bergendorf dated five days before Hein Bohlen’s death. It read:
We need to speak urgently!
Lena searched the list of associates Sabine Bohlen had given them. The name wasn’t on it. Hein Bohlen hadn’t replied to the email. Lena logged on to the police database and searched for Herbert Bergendorf. She noted down one address in Hamburg and one on Amrum.
Checking the time, she was surprised to find it was nearly one in the morning. She closed the laptop down and went to bed.
‘Morning,’ said Johann when Lena came into the kitchen. ‘Coffee?’
‘Black and strong, please.’
‘Poor night’s sleep?’
‘The mattress is too soft,’ Lena muttered and took the mug Johann was handing her. ‘How about yourself? Been up long?’
‘Not too long,’ he said. ‘I’ve been checking a few things. Was my report OK?’
Lena took a long sip of her coffee. ‘All good. The court order for the tax office has come through, along with Reimers’ personnel file.’
Johann whistled appreciatively. ‘Wow! Who’d have thought? And what does it say?’
Lena filled him in briefly on what she’d learned from the file.
‘The properly interesting bits are off limits, of course. I guess there’s no chance of getting our hands on those.’
‘Wait and see,’ Lena said with a smile.
‘You’ve got an idea?’
‘Like I said, wait and see.’
Johann nodded. ‘OK.’
‘I’ll ring the tax office soon. Did you find out what programme the funeral director watched that night?’
‘The only whodunnit on that evening finished at quarter past eleven.’ Johann grinned. ‘And it was the detective with the red hair.’
‘So if the funeral director watched the programme to the end, then Reimers called him later.’
‘That’s right! And Meiners said he was on his way to bed. We were right: there are at least twenty minutes unaccounted for.’
‘We need the phone records ASAP,’ Lena said. ‘Do we know yet if Hein Bohlen actually went to the supermarket on his last day?’
‘I’m on to it. And I’ll send his clothes to Forensics in Flensburg. With a bit of luck, they’ll get back to us the day after tomorrow. I’ll make sure they know it’s urgent.’ Johann handed Lena the basket of bread rolls and pastries. She picked a croissant, dunked it into her coffee and took a bite.
‘I saw my aunt yesterday. She told me a holidaymaker was raped here a few years back. Apparently, the older boys from the home came under suspicion. Can you ask for the file?’
‘Will do. We’re meeting the cook at ten, and I’ve asked the two casual staff to come in fifteen minutes later. What are we going to do with Frau Bohlen’s list?’
‘We’ll split it between us. Ring everyone first, then decide who we need to see in person. And I’ve got someone else to add to the list. We’ll see him first.’
When Johann looked at her expectantly, she added, ‘A chance hit.’
After getting redirected twice on the phone to the tax office, Lena finally managed to speak with the director, Nils Oppen.
‘I need some info about a property purchase on Amrum,’ she explained. ‘I gather you’ve received the court order?’
‘Yes, Inspector,’ the man on the phone said quickly, ‘and I’ve had the documents relating to the case sent to my office. What would you like to know?’
‘The house was largely paid for out of private funds. What statements were made by the buyer regarding those funds?’
Lena could hear pages being turned. After a long few moments, Nils Oppen cleared his throat and said, ‘Herr Bohlen stated that he’d won the money on the lottery.’
‘And you have proof?’
‘Yes, of course. I have a statement from the Niedersachsen lottery company attesting to a win of eight hundred thousand euros. The precise amount is—’
‘Can you scan and email the statement to me?’
‘That should be possible if you give me your official CID address. But I can’t promise it’ll be today. I’ll get the ball rolling as soon as I can.’
Lena groaned inwardly. She had neither the time nor the patience for the pace of a provincial tax office.
‘Did your office have the authenticity of the certificate attested?’ she asked pointedly.
Nils Oppen appeared to leaf through his files again. ‘Looks as though it was accepted as is, but that’s not unusual. The statement looks fine to me.’
‘I’m guessing that means you deal with similar statements on a regular basis?’ Lena sounded annoyed.
‘No, I don’t. This was a first.’
‘That’s what I thought. I think someone put one over on you.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Herr Oppen, I assure you that it’s in your best interests to clear this up as fast as possible. We’re dealing with a serious murder investigation here.’
‘Of course, Inspector—’
‘Great,’ Lena said, cutting him off. ‘Then I suggest you find out whether Herr Bohlen really did win the lottery as soon as you can. I’m sure you don’t need another court order, do you?’
‘You mean—?’
‘I mean you pick up the phone right now and sort the matter out. Can I count on you?’ Lena’s voice had become increasingly sharp.
‘Of course you can,’ the director of the tax office said after a moment’s hesitation.
‘Call me as soon as you have the result – you have my number. And I also want the contact details of the lottery company.’
‘Hanover. They’re in Hanover.’
‘I’ll expect to hear from you shortly.’
Moments after she’d finished the call, her phone rang. It was Leon.
‘It wasn�
��t easy. Last night’s gonna cost you,’ he said without greeting. ‘The files are in your inbox.’
He hung up before Lena could say anything.
She opened her laptop and studied the files Leon had sent. Just as she’d thought. Reimers had been involved in a corruption scandal. His name had been found on a list during a raid on well-known criminals. The list assigned large sums of cash against each name. Nothing could be proven in the course of the following investigations into Reimers, neither him accepting the bribe nor any services given in return. When no principal witness could be found, Reimers agreed to his demotion by one rank. There were, on the other hand, several breaches of conduct that could be proven – protocols that disappeared without trace, unjustified violence during preliminary arrests and manipulation of witness statements. The investigators also judged Reimers to be of unsound character and suspected a gambling addiction.
Lena couldn’t believe Reimers had been allowed to stay in the police force following such serious allegations. Clearly, he’d had friends in high places who had protected him and made his transfer to another region possible.
But that was many years ago. At this point, Lena couldn’t see a connection with her current case. She hoped the phone data would be more conclusive.
Next, she googled Herbert Bergendorf, the email contact from Hein Bohlen’s digital recycling bin. The man was in his seventies and before his retirement he had been CEO of a large bank in Hamburg, and in this capacity had been active in countless organisations and charitable institutions. Her search yielded a huge number of results. Aside from his holiday home on Amrum, he owned a mansion in Hamburg’s most exclusive neighbourhood.
Lena looked at her watch. Half an hour before they’d have to leave for the children’s home. She leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling guilty that she hadn’t called Joe sooner. She grabbed her phone to call him.
‘Hi, Lena,’ he said when he picked up. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Glad to hear it. Seen your aunt yet?’
‘Yes, yesterday afternoon. She says hello.’
‘Hello back. Tell her I’d love to see her in Kiel again soon. Maybe we could plan something nice together, a day trip or something. What do you think?’
‘Sure, why not?’
‘How long will you have to stay on Amrum?’ he asked after a few moments of silence.
‘It’s complicated. Too soon to tell. A few more days at least.’
‘I guess you’re in a hurry?’ asked Joe.
‘Yep, the next interview’s at ten.’
‘Keep in touch?’
‘Sure.’
‘Look after yourself, Lena.’
‘Will do.’
‘Later then,’ Joe said, and Lena could hear the disappointment in his voice. ‘My phone’s always on. Call when you get a chance.’
‘All right, Joe. Catch you later.’
Lena hung up and stared at her phone for a while before forcing herself to get up.
11
On the drive over to the children’s home Johann told Lena what he’d found out in the meantime. His colleague in Oldenburg had reported that Isabel Müller’s brother had committed suicide eighteen months earlier. He’d been a regular patient at Karl Jaspers Hospital, a specialist psychiatric unit. The inquiry into his death had ruled out third-party involvement. No suicide letter had been found.
The Spanish consulate in Hamburg had been most cooperative and handed over Anna Bauer’s current address. Turned out she really did work as an entertainer at a large resort complex. Johann had tried to call her but not got through. He’d try again in the afternoon.
‘Bohlen’s visit to the supermarket is confirmed. I spoke with the manager. He knows Bohlen and even spoke with him that day.’
‘Did he notice anything?’
‘That’s what I asked. He said no at first, but then he said Bohlen seemed rather nervous.’
‘Interesting. Anything unusual about the shopping trip?’
‘Yes, I’d actually noticed from the receipt already. The shop would have done for a family of four, but a normal shop for the home should have been much bigger. The manager confirmed that the home usually spends around six hundred euros per shop. What Hein Bohlen bought on that day was minimal by comparison. Either he wasn’t in the right frame of mind or he didn’t have the time, or both.’
‘More evidence suggesting that Bohlen wasn’t fully himself. We need to find out who else he saw that day. I’m hoping the phone records will give us a clue.’
Just as they reached the children’s home, Lena’s phone rang. It was the man from the tax office.
‘I had the statement checked,’ he reported dutifully. ‘It appears that the document was indeed falsified.’
‘Easy as that,’ Lena muttered.
‘Well, no – a simple case of human error. But the case officer has been retired for years and, as I just found out, passed away not long ago.’
‘So what happens now?’
‘We’ll request new documentation from the home’s beneficiaries, although the whole affair may fall under the statute of limitations. Nothing like this has ever happened during my career up until now.’
‘Would you please send the documents to CID Kiel, marked for the attention of Lena Lorenzen?’
‘Of course, Inspector.’
Lena said goodbye and hung up. ‘Great. Now we know for certain that Bohlen’s money was dodgy, but that doesn’t get us any further.’
‘An important clue, though,’ Johann said. ‘I’m sure we’ll tie up the loose ends over the course of the investigation. I’m guessing the cash withdrawals have something to do with it. Repayments? Bit late, though, isn’t it?’
Lena nodded and asked, ‘What’s the cook’s name?’
Johann opened his little notebook. ‘Rosa Behrens.’
Lena, who’d been about to climb out of the car, fell back into her seat. ‘Age?’
‘Thirty-four. Why?’
‘Unless I’m much mistaken, we went to school together. You could even say we were friends for a while as children.’
‘And now?’
‘Not these days. But if you get the feeling she’ll only open up to me, be ready to make another important phone call, yes?’
Johann nodded as they got out and walked to the house.
Sabine Bohlen accompanied them to the large dining room of the children’s home. A woman came out of the adjacent kitchen, untying her apron. She smiled when she saw Lena and held out her hand. ‘Even as a child you always used to play cops and robbers with the boys.’
Lena grinned. ‘I can’t believe you remember that.’
‘That and a whole lot besides. But that’s not why you’re here.’
Sabine Bohlen had followed their exchange with growing surprise. Now she stepped forward. ‘I’ll be in my office if you need me.’
‘Thank you, Frau Bohlen. Yes, we’d like to speak with you again once we’ve finished here.’
Sabine left the room without reacting to Lena’s comment.
Rosa Behrens pulled out a chair. ‘Would you like to take a seat?’
Lena nodded and gestured for Johann to sit too.
‘So, what can I do for you?’ asked Rosa.
Lena looked at her childhood friend. She wouldn’t have recognised Rosa immediately. She’d been a short, chubby eight-year-old but there was no trace of that now. She was as tall as Lena, slim and very pretty. Her long black hair was pinned up these days, but her smile was the same and her eyes shone with the same greenish hazel as twenty-five years ago.
‘As you know, we’re here about your boss’s death. What we’re mainly interested in is whether you noticed anything unusual in the weeks and especially days before.’
‘I thought you might ask that. I would have said no if you’d put me on the spot, but I’ve thought it over since and I think I did notice something. Hein had been somewhat unfocussed lately. I can’t think of a better way of putting it.
In hindsight, I feel like he was walking around in a daze at times, as if he was on another planet, but not all the time. That’s why it didn’t stand out to me at first. It came in waves. Like, suddenly, as if he’d just thought of something, he was miles away. I know it sounds weird, but that’s the best way I can describe it.’ ‘It’s all right, Rosa. Just tell us how you saw it – that would be the most help.’
‘I mean, he’d always had a temper, but he had it under control. You know how my father—’ The cook glanced at Johann and then back at Lena. ‘How can I put it? He wasn’t an easy person. If you’ve lived with someone like that since you’re a kid, you kind of get a sense for people with anger issues.’
‘Do you have any idea why he might have behaved that way?’
‘We weren’t that close.’
Lena sensed that her former friend wasn’t telling everything. She glanced at Johann, who was writing notes in his book.
‘I’m pretty much always in the kitchen. I didn’t use to go for the groceries either. I’ve only been doing the shopping since . . .’ She seemed to be looking for the right words. ‘Well, since he’s no longer been around. Before, he always used to do it himself.’
Johann rose. ‘I left something in the car.’
‘No problem,’ Lena said. ‘We’ll carry on without you.’
Rosa continued once he’d left the room. ‘There was a time when we had more to do with each other. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but it’s probably better if I tell you everything.’
‘It’ll stay between us, if you’d rather.’
‘Yes, please. At the end of the day, I like it here. It’s better than working in hospitality, where the hours are shocking. Never mind. Hein Bohlen: the long and short of it is, he chased after me.’
‘What happened?’
Rosa Behrens rubbed her hands and took a deep breath. ‘Please keep it to yourself if possible. You know how it goes. Suddenly, the boss spends more time in the kitchen, talks to you, a bit overly familiar and considerate. I didn’t think anything of it at first – I mean, he was newly married. I didn’t take it seriously, not even when he touched me, you know, like accidentally brushing against me. I guess it was my mistake too. Not nipping it in the bud. I don’t know.’
The Body on the Beach Page 9