by Dora Heldt
“Christine, you’ve gone completely pale. I hope I haven’t frightened you. You don’t need to worry; I’ll do everything in my power to hunt down this crook.”
“Of course.” I tried to smile and pinched Gesa on the thigh. “I’ve just got a bit of a headache, probably from the painting, so I think I’ll make a move. You wanted to set off too, Gesa, didn’t you?”
“Yes, that’s right.” She stood up, rubbing her leg. “We can go together. See you tomorrow, everyone, and good luck with the crime fighting.”
“I’ll walk you back,” called Gisbert, about to jump up.
“No, stay!” My father handed me my purse. “There’s two of them, and the crook left today in any case. Let’s make a plan of how we’re going to proceed. Night, Christine, see you later. Bye, Gesa.”
Outside, I took a deep breath. Gesa nudged me with a grin.
“That hack is really into you.”
“Stop it, will you? He’s really getting on my nerves.”
“Oh well, at least he’s distracted by crook hunting for now.” Gesa laughed softly. “Poor Herr Thiess. And he’s really nice as well. And so good-looking.”
That was the route of my weakness too. I tried to sound neutral.
“I think that’s a prerequisite for con men like that. And besides, Thiess is too old for you.”
“Well, I don’t want to marry him.” Gesa stopped and rummaged around for her cigarettes. “But Thiess wasn’t on the hunt for rich old lone tourists. He was grilling me about Marleen. I think he’s interested in her.”
“What did he want to know?”
“How old she is and whether I know her boyfriend.”
“And?”
“And what? You know how old she is. Fifty. And I don’t know her boyfriend. Does she even have one? Do you know him?”
My heart was aching. “No. Do you know what Thiess was doing here?”
Gesa shrugged her shoulders. “Not really. I asked him why he was always taking photos, and he said it was his job. Perhaps he’s a photographer and the guesthouse will turn up in some calendar next year. That’d be great publicity.”
His job? But I thought he said he was a banker? I didn’t want to ask any more questions, so we carried on in silence until we reached Gesa’s house.
“Good night, Christine. See you tomorrow on the lounge chairs. Oh, and by the way, if he was a con man, he wouldn’t tell anyone where he was staying, would he?”
“I guess not. Why?”
Gesa opened her front door. “Because he had at least four phone calls to the guesthouse from a woman. She said his mobile was off and asked me to tell him to call her back. She had a really nice voice.”
“Aha.”
Gesa turned around in the doorway. “I think it was his wife. She said he should call Pookie, and no one has a surname like that. It’s just…if that’s the case, I don’t know what he wanted from Marleen. Anyway, I’m sure he’s not a con man. Okay, good night.”
“Good night, Gesa.”
I walked slowly back to the apartment. Not even turning on the light, I groped my way through the darkness out onto the terrace. Sitting down on the steps and staring up at the starlit sky, I wondered what kind of a mess I’d gotten myself into.
The Egg King
* * *
My father’s loud, warbling voice awakened me the next morning.
“And the sun always, always rises again…”
I pulled the pillow over my head, only for the ringing of the telephone to bore its way through a minute later. One ring, two rings, and then I heard Dorothea’s voice from the bathroom.
“Heinz, are you deaf? Telephone!”
“Dadadada…” The telephone was picked up. “Good morning, this is the Shark Bar singing here. Oh, hello, I thought it was Kalli. Hello my darling, how’s your knee?”
I threw the pillow on the floor and pricked up my ears.
“That’s good. You see, like I’ve always said, practice makes perfect. So does it still hurt?”
As my mother talked, my father sucked air through his teeth. Aha, she was giving him the details.
“Really?… Blue flecks on your thigh?… From the compress? Should we sue the hospital?”
Another moment of silence.
“Are you sure? That’s for you to decide…and you’re not in pain anymore? So it’s just that it doesn’t look good? Oh well, you don’t wear short skirts anymore anyway.” He chuckled. “Okay then, that’s not so bad. Here? Yes, everything here’s fine…no, we’re all getting along great. I think Marleen’s a little overwhelmed by it all, and you can say what you want about it, but this really isn’t a woman’s job. I really don’t know what she would have done without us. I think she’s really pleased that Kalli and I have everything under control. Who?… Dorothea?”
He lowered his voice, so I sat up to be able to hear him better.
“Well, to be honest, trying to look out for these girls is a damn sight harder than I thought. We have this interior designer guy, who I don’t think we even need. I mean, if Marleen had given us enough notice, a few plans and so on, Kalli and I could have managed all that. Kalli always could draw so well. Anyway, this designer, he’s one of those long-haired artistic types, and you never know with them. And what happens? Dorothea was like a moth to the flame around him from the start, or he was to her, we’re not exactly sure how it all started.”
I could imagine what my mother was saying. I think I was pretty close.
“I’m not meddling in it, what do you think of me? No, I just let her get on with it, but she didn’t come back to the apartment for two nights in a row. And at the end of the day I’m the one responsible. But we sorted it all out yesterday evening.”
It seemed my mother must have protested.
“Oh nonsense, I’m not like that…I know perfectly well how old she is… No, no, we phoned Carsten Jensen from the restaurant, he’s the father of this Nils guy, the long-haired one. Kalli knows him and invited him along for a beer. You know, to join us in toasting the new baby, just casually.”
Poor Dorothea. I started to feel guilty about leaving her alone with the boys.
“A really nice guy, this Carsten… No, Dorothea and Nils had already left, of course we were discreet. But we asked Carsten what the boy’s like. He sounds fine, though, all normal, even though they had a lot of trouble with him back when he was young. Apparently he wet the bed until he was six and had loads of pimples when he was a teenager.”
Poor Nils. From now on my father would see to it that he always went to the toilet in good time.
“But all that’s fine now. And it sounds like he can support Dorothea too; Carsten knows exactly what he earns. He’s going to help us out a little bit with the work… What do you mean, who?… Carsten Jensen, of course. The opening is in three days, there isn’t long to go.”
Oh, wonderful, so now the group of wonder boys on the building site had another member. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my socks on. The conversation seemed to be coming to a close, and judging by my father’s short answers he was receiving instructions from my mother. I stood up to go to the bathroom, but stopped at the door just in time.
“Oh, and I haven’t told you yet, but we managed to save Christine from becoming the victim of a marriage con man. I thought there was something up right away… Yes, exactly, the guy I told you about, the one with the piercing look… What?… Oh, well, deceitful eyes is the same thing… How do I know? My new acquaintance, Gisbert, the one from the newspaper, heard the news firsthand. The crook puts the moves on old ladies by cozying up to the hotel staff to get information on them and then fleeces them like the Christmas goose. He tried to do it here too… No, he didn’t get to the old ladies, he only chatted up Christine, but that’s when I started to get suspicious. Sorry? Of course he noticed, and then he paid and fled… Yes, he paid, but who knows where the money came from? And it’s still fleecing at the end of the day… Don’t worry though, I’m on it, he won’t dare s
how his face in Nordeney again. He’s not going to return to the scene of the crime… Of course I’m sure, we phoned one of Gisbert’s friends in Bremen yesterday. We sent him to the address where this Thiess guy allegedly lives. And one thing’s for sure, there’s no Johann Thiess there at all!”
I tried to catch my breath. Even if Gisbert did happen to have a friend who lived in Bremen, what on earth would have convinced him to go out in the middle of the night and look at strangers’ doorbell nameplates? Absurd! It seemed my mother had the same thought.
“Why? Oh, I don’t know why, he must have owed Gisbert a favor, I guess. And besides, he only lived two streets away… How did we know the address? Well, he filled in a guest registration form, of course… No, Marleen has a copier.”
I could see my father from the door. He was standing with his back to me. He ducked his head.
“Why are you getting so worked up? A registration form isn’t personal, there’s no reason why we can’t copy it. Why on earth not?… Oh, come on, you’re just as gullible as your daughter. If he was innocent he wouldn’t have fled like that… No, we haven’t done that yet. We’re going to write a short report for the police at lunchtime today. Maybe Dorothea will do a sketch, a photofit of him for us. Yes, that’s actually a really good idea now I think of it, so…”
“A sketch of who?” Dorothea emerged from the bathroom in her robe, her hair still wet, and planted herself in front of my father. He smiled at her.
“Speak of the devil; here comes the artist fresh from the shower. Okay then, take care of that leg, and make sure you keep exercising. I’ll keep you posted. We’ll speak again later. Bye then.”
He hung up and saw me standing by the door. “Oh, you’re up, too. Your mother sends her love. She’s doing well.”
“Who am I supposed to sketch?” Dorothea wasn’t letting it go.
“Oh, this Thiess guy. The police need a picture.”
“You’ve got a screw loose!” I said, and went past my father and Dorothea into the bathroom. “Herr Thiess will be back today or tomorrow—he just had to sort something out, that’s all. And besides, he paid for his room, and your con man always takes off without paying.”
My father raised his finger. “Only because he realized I was onto him. And we have proof that his address was wrong.”
Dorothea, who must have heard part of the telephone call too, looked at me thoughtfully.
“Okay, the address thing is a little strange, I give you that, but there could be another explanation. Heinz, seriously now, don’t you think Gisbert is actually a bit of a screwball himself?”
“Dorothea!” Heinz was outraged. “Gisbert is a really nice guy. He may be a little awkward and shy, but I’d trust my daughter with him in a second. That’s the kind of man you want for life, not rogues or con men, right, Christine?”
“Sure, Dad, that’s just what I need. For heaven’s sake!”
I shut the bathroom door. “Once she gets to know him better,” my father said to Dorothea, “she’ll see what I mean. You know, she’s had so much bad luck with men, she needs to learn to open up to someone again first.”
She laughed. “Did you read that in Cosmo? Heinz, if I may say so, you have no idea what women want.”
“Why?”
“Oh come, on, Gisbert von Meyer! The guy is a joke!”
“Women want men with a sense of humor.”
Unable to take it anymore, I turned the shower on.
Half an hour later I was in the kitchen of the guesthouse, drinking coffee with Marleen. I didn’t dare bring the subject up, but I didn’t need to. She started it. “So, when is Heinz planning to comb the island for the suspected con man?”
I realized she’d only been there for the start of the conversation.
“Oh, my father and Gisbert have already decided on a suspect. They’re planning to write a report for the police later. With an Identikit picture.”
Marleen was amazed. “Well, that was quick. Did they find him in the Shark Bar?”
“No. Here.” I was anxious to see her reaction.
“Why here? I don’t even have any new guests.” She really had no idea.
“Johann Thiess.”
Marleen laughed and poured more coffee.
“What nonsense. Thiess left already. And I didn’t see him with any lonely old women. And besides, he paid for his room.”
“But didn’t you think he was a bit strange too?” I cautiously tried to probe a little more.
“Well, not strange exactly, it’s just that he unsettled me a little because he seemed to be watching me. At least, that’s what I thought. And he was taking photos of everything when he first arrived. But perhaps he just had a new camera. And besides, you liked him, right? That says a lot for him.”
“Thanks, Marleen. Did he not tell you he’s coming back?”
She looked up, surprised. “No, he didn’t. Although he did pay his room right through to the day he was originally planning to leave.”
She noticed me flinch. Why hadn’t he told me that? Before Marleen could say anything, my father stormed into the kitchen.
“Marleen! You have to tell us when you change plans at the drop of a hat. The boys with the flooring are here.”
“What? Oh, no, it slipped my mind, I’m sorry. Right, the floor’s being sealed today, so all the other work will have to take a break.”
“Great.” My father put his hands on his hips. “That’s great organization. If you don’t do everything yourself, it just doesn’t get done. I need to speak to the others.” He grabbed a thermos full of coffee and four cups, then stormed off again.
Marleen turned back to me. “Well maybe I misheard, but never mind, the room’s free anyway. I’ll go and see what’s going on and apologize to the troops. Heavens, I didn’t even have the floor down on the list for today.”
I put my cup away and went slowly after her, not wanting to believe that my father could be right for once, especially not when it came to the wonderful Johann Thiess.
There was a camping table set up in the middle of the courtyard, around which my father, Onno, and Kalli were seated, along with a man I didn’t know. Given that he looked very similar to Nils, I assumed it was Carsten Jensen.
“Well, Marleen,” my father said as he held out his empty cup to Kalli, “now you’ve got willing experts sitting around with no work to do, and all because some troop of boys from the mainland are polishing the floor.”
Kalli poured the coffee. “They’re not polishing, Heinz, they’re sanding and sealing.”
“But they could do that at night. We’re just hanging around wasting time.”
“I said I was sorry.” Marleen raised her arms theatrically. “I forgot to tell you about it. But what’s all the fuss about? You’ve got a day off now!”
The “troop of boys” were forced to navigate their equipment around the camping table. Onno and Kalli watched them critically.
“We could have done all that for you.” Kalli was clearly offended.
“I booked the firm six weeks ago, before I even knew you were helping out. Now please put the table a little to the side so the workmen can get through. I have to go back inside.”
She looked at me, pleading for help, then disappeared. I stared pointedly at the four men, but they didn’t budge an inch.
Carsten Jensen looked up at me. “So you’re the daughter?”
My father and I nodded.
Nils’s father stood up, made a short bow, and sat back down.
“Carsten.”
“Christine,” answered my father.
Onno drank the rest of his coffee and got up. “Unlike you lot, I’m not retired yet. I’m driving back to the office. There’s plenty to do.”
My father looked at him. “But you’re already over sixty. How much longer are you planning to work?”
“Onno gets bored when he stops,” said Carsten. “He doesn’t need to work anymore. He’s just worried everyone will think he’s old.”
&n
bsp; Kalli crossed his arms over his chest and messed around with the chair. “But Onno’s still young; he’s only sixty-three, ten years younger than us.”
“Really?” Carsten looked from Onno to Heinz. “Then you guys have aged well. Or Onno badly, one of the two. I’m seventy-four.”
“Respect.” My father nodded admiringly. “I wouldn’t have thought it.”
This collective charm offensive was getting a little too much for me. “Okay then, if you don’t need me, I’m going off to help Marleen.”
“Sure, go.” Kalli waved coolly. “We’ll find something to occupy ourselves. And if not, then we’ll play cards. Do you have a deck with you?”
“Here.” Onno pulled some out of his work bag. “I’ve always got these with me, you can borrow them. And Carsten only looks younger because he still has a full head of hair. But he’s got high blood pressure, you know.”
“Really? How high is your blood pressure? Mine’s…”
I stopped listening and headed off. The breakfast room wasn’t going to clean itself.
Apart from the Berg family, only the unavoidable Terrible Twosome were still at breakfast. Mechthild Weidemann-Zapek looked a little groggy. The Moselle wine must have taken its toll. And Hannelore Klüppersberg had been a little careless with the face powder. One half of her face was powdered all over, whereas the other half was only done to the chin. She looked a little over-the-hill. Both of them were having bad hair days—Mechthild was even wearing a cap.
The Berg twins beamed at me. Emily waved me over to their table.
“The green woman’s wearing your dad’s hat. Is she allowed to?” she whispered.
Surprised, I turned round to have another look at Frau Weidemann-Zapek. Emily was right; that’s why the appliquéd moose had seemed familiar. Admittedly her green velvet outfit didn’t quite match the yellow, even if I’m sure my father would have begged to differ.
Lena leaned forward. “Does your father have lots of hats with animals on them?”
“Yes, he does. I think the one he has on today has a bear on it. But he has at least three with him; he doesn’t have that much hair anymore, and without it his head would get too hot in the sun.”