by Ally Rose
‘Secrets can become great burdens. Tell me, and if need be, we can go to the police.’
Felix was adamant. ‘Too late, the police can’t help me now.’
‘You can trust me,’ Ingrid implored.
‘I trust you,’ Felix said, his eyes filling with tears. ‘Tante, I’m made of secrets… I’ve buried myself in them.’
‘There’s nothing you could do to stop me loving you,’ she said to reassure him.
Felix smiled. ‘I’ll remind you of that someday. Tante, trust me, there are others who would expose me, and my secrets would wreak repercussions on the whole family. I couldn’t allow that. I’d die to protect my family but hopefully now I won’t have to.’
‘Felix, you’re talking in riddles. If it helps, I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ll tell you my worst secret, something I’ve wanted to tell you but was afraid to. I lost Sofie’s love and as a result, you and Susanne ended up in Torgau.’
‘It was no one’s fault we ended up in Torgau. Blame the Stasi-run government but not yourself,’ said Felix. ‘But you’re talking about the argument you and Mutti had at Gertrude’s funeral, aren’t you?’
Ingrid was surprised. ‘You remember it?’
Felix nodded. ‘I was in the garden, I heard your raised voices. I didn’t know what you were arguing about, Mutti never told us, but I knew it was serious because we never came back to Motzen.’
Ingrid was in her mother Gertrude’s house with Sofie’s son. It was here in this kitchen that she’d lost her sister. He’s still so young, she thought, but she knew Felix had insight and understood things at such a deep level that she could tell him anything. The timing could never be right but she was desperate to admit her failings and tell her nephew the truth.
‘Your father messed up all your lives. Gertrude, Klaus and me, we watched the fall out – the bruises on Sofie’s arms, her face and on both of you children. We begged her to leave Jakob and bring you and Susanne here to live with us in Motzen. It made Gertrude ill to witness it all. We told her Jakob was no longer welcome here to push her into making a choice but Sofie thought it was her duty to try and help her husband.’
‘Mutti was stubborn like that. A bit like you, she couldn’t be told.’
He knows me well, Ingrid thought. ‘Yes, but my darling sister thought love would be enough. It wasn’t. When people are in denial they can’t help themselves and Jakob’s alcoholism had you all trapped in a cage.’
Felix looked at the empty beer bottles beside the kitchen sink. Ingrid must have brought them in from the living room. ‘Before you say anything else, I had two beers last night, the first I’ve had in ages: I am not my father.’
Ingrid nodded. ‘I know.’
‘I remember… Jakob used to get angry over nothing, take off his belt, give us a whack and send us to bed without any supper. When he started on Mutti, I’d get out of bed and scream at him “Don’t hit my Mutti” and get another whack for my troubles. He never said sorry or showed any remorse. Later on, he’d come into the bedroom and wake us up just to sing us to sleep again as if nothing was wrong. We had to pretend it wasn’t going on and it never happened, until the next explosion. I remember his smell, of stale cigarettes and alcohol. My father was an angry, controlling, bitter drunk.’
‘He made your lives a living hell.’
‘Well, I guess we thought it was normal to live like that. When Jakob tried to get over the Wall in Berlin, he got his just rewards. I believe at some point or other we all get payback for our sins,’ Felix said.
‘If you believe that, then I lost Sofie as a punishment,’ Ingrid began. ‘I was unkind to your mother. I blamed her for Gertrude’s death.’
Felix finally knew the reason why his mother had refused to kiss and make up with her sister: the wound went too deep.
‘That’s why I believe I’m partly to blame for you and Susanne being sent to Torgau, and for Susanne dying. What you suffered could have been avoided. If Sofie and I had been on speaking terms, we all might be here now, together as a family. Felix, can you ever forgive me?’ Ingrid asked him, tears running down her cheeks.
‘Tante, there’s nothing to forgive and Mutti would agree with me.’
Ingrid wiped her cheeks. ‘Now I’ve told you my secret, won’t you tell me yours?’
Felix had murdered three people and was planning to kill a fourth. He could not condemn Ingrid for an argument with his mother, whatever happened afterwards. He would never dare be self-righteous and judge Ingrid for her actions. His Tante had shared her darkest secret with him but he could not burden her with his.
‘Secrets and lies are a lethal combination. No, sorry. Tante, I’m not ready to tell you my secrets.’
‘I’m here for you, whenever you feel like telling me,’ Ingrid said.
‘I know. You and Klaus gave me a home and a life and I love you both.’
‘We love you, too,’ Ingrid said, embracing her nephew. ‘Now, what are we going to tell Klaus about the rope burns on your neck?’
Felix quickly came up with a plausible idea. ‘I’ll say I was swinging on a rope over the lake and it got tangled round my neck. If you want to tell Onkel Klaus, I’ll understand, but I’d rather you didn’t. I just hope my neck looks better when I visit Martha.’
‘I’ll get some arnica, that’ll do the trick,’ Ingrid suggested.
‘Tante, just so you know. I lie sometimes to stay out of trouble and to hide the truth.’
‘So do I,’ Ingrid told him. ‘So do I.’
Chapter Sixteen: The Ring
WHEN GUNTHER’S MOTHER MARIANNE received the text sent by Felix about her son she did not know whether to believe it or what to do. Hearing her beloved boy confess to paedophilia in a text message came as a great shock and when Gunther didn’t return home she feared the worst. Two weeks later, having tried unsuccessfully many times to contact Gunther on his mobile, the police turned up at dawn. They had been sent a typed, anonymous letter with a Berlin postmark containing a suspected ring of paedophiles. Gunther’s name was on this list and he was wanted for questioning.
Marianne was extremely anxious about Gunther’s disappearance and had felt his absence deeply, because without him there was no one to love or even to care for her except those she paid. She had deleted Gunther’s texted confession and when the police asked her about her son’s alleged paedophilia she denied any knowledge and was adamant it was all a big mistake. When they left, Marianne had a heart attack and slumped to the floor. She died shortly afterwards, believing her son was a good boy down to her very last breath.
Harald’s wife Ina had also been in a state of panic since receiving Felix’s text about her husband. She had two young children to think about and they missed their father as much as she missed her husband. When the police turned up at dawn wanting to question Harald about alleged paedophilia she told them he’d gone missing, which only added to their suspicions.
If Harald was not the person she thought he was, Ina wondered if what the police were suggesting could be true. As a worried mother, it crossed her mind that Harald might have abused his own children and because of this, Ina decided to show the police the text message she’d received and kept from Harald – sent, of course, by Felix.
The police were immediately sympathetic and offered Ina and her children psychological help to cope with the trauma, as well as police protection should anyone find out the truth about her husband and turn up unexpectedly at her home to cause trouble. The news that day was full of the paedophile dawn raids so they also advised her not to allow her children access to any media reports.
Felix was in the cottage looking after Axel when he saw the breaking news about the dawn raids on the television. He left Axel to his puzzle on the kitchen table and turned up the volume. In the television studio the anchorman was saying that various male suspects had been arrested and taken in for questioning, and then switched to a live report from Berlin. On the steps of police HQ against a backdrop of the Brandenburg
gate, a female journalist was conducting an interview with a craggy-faced detective sporting a five o’clock shadow of facial stubble.
The journalist began enthusiastically. ‘I’m here at police headquarters in Mitte, Berlin, with Detective Oskar Kruger. Detective Kruger, what can you tell us about the success of this operation?’
Detective Kruger scratched his stubble. ‘We received an anonymous tip-off which has proved to be reliable and as a consequence made a number of arrests of potential sex offenders in an operation by our undercover team of police officers. It has been a great success.’
‘Am I correct in assuming these potential sex offenders were in a paedophile ring and worked in children’s’ institutions such as Torgau?’
Kruger nodded. ‘That’s correct. I’d like to make an appeal to any young person who was interned in places such as Torgau to come forward and give us vital information to help secure the imprisonment of those connected to this paedophile ring. I will personally guarantee anonymity to anyone giving evidence in court.’
The journalist probed further. ‘Surely those who have been sexually abused might be reluctant to go over such sensitive and painful memories?’
Kruger nodded. ‘I understand, but can assure anyone who comes forward can be assured that we have a team of dedicated individuals working in conjunction with the police who will offer psychological support. Anyone coming forward would ultimately help themselves and other victims of abuse, in the past and in the future.’
Felix felt vindicated. By sending the police a list of names from Horst’s diary he’d saved some of the next generation of children from suffering at the hands of the Musketeers and the rest of paedophile ring. Moreover, Axel was now safe.
In the last few weeks, Felix had turned his attention to his next and last victim: Lotte Holler. He had found her details in Horst’s diary and wondered if the Musketeers had kept in touch with their go-between once they no longer worked together. He thought it unlikely – they would have had no use for her after her role in bringing to them their favourite kids became obsolete.
Lotte lived in the Berlin suburb of Kreuzberg, not far from the Oberbaum Brucke, where Felix’s father Jakob had lost his life. Felix had been stalking Lotte on daily visits to Berlin for the past few weeks and he didn’t have long before he left for England to see Martha. It was now or never.
Once Felix had planned his strategy he announced to Ingrid he was going to Berlin for a few days. ‘I’ve some unfinished business to settle.’
Ingrid was afraid. ‘I’ve heard on the news about the police after this paedophile ring. I have the feeling…?’
‘Tante. We promised. No questions.’
‘You can’t expect me to stay silent!’ she cried.
Felix was adamant. ‘I’ve no choice! I’ve a mission to complete.’
Ingrid shook her head. ‘Your quest might be the death of you.’
‘Mother’s can rest easier in their beds knowing their children are a little bit safer. You’re a mother now, you understand,’ Felix replied.
‘Stop it!’ Ingrid was crying now. ‘You’re not some kind of vigilante who has to take the law into his own hands, you don’t have to do anything. You’ve come so far, you’ve got a good life now. Forget about those Torgau bastards!’
‘Susi couldn’t forget and neither can I.’
‘Felix, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.’
‘Tante, you won’t lose me. I’m scared too, but it’s something I have to do. Like you say, it is my quest.’
‘Stop talking like you are Don Quixote or something. He was delusional and was taken for a crazy fool.’
‘Maybe Quixote was a Toreador in disguise,’ Felix said, thinking about the role he played and the music he used against the Musketeers. ‘I may be crazy, but I’m no fool. Tante, let me ask you some questions. If anyone abused Axel, what would you do? Would you be satisfied if the police locked up the sicko, or would you want some revenge of your own? And Onkel Klaus, what would he do?’
Ingrid concurred with a reluctant sigh of tacit approval.
‘Then, won’t you let me help you? I could be Quixote’s mule.’
Chapter Seventeen: The Go-Between
FELIX METICULOUSLY PACKED ALL the essentials for his task in a large rucksack. It was late November and thick snow had arrived in Berlin. Undaunted by harsh winters and sometimes months of snow, it didn’t stop people, wrapped up warmly, going about their daily lives. The streets were gritted daily and the traffic continued to flow.
Felix arrived by train at Ost Bahnof as he’d done for the past few weeks in his surveillance of Lotte Holler and took his usual route, walking along the long and wide avenue of Muhlenstrasse by the riverside where the city’s infamous four metre high Wall was now a tourist spot called the East Side Gallery. Artists had the privilege of writing and drawing political messages and images on this section of the wall. The two murals Felix found the most striking were Erich Honeker and Leonid Brezhnev’s mouth-to-mouth embrace and the Trabant bursting through the wall. Throughout the rest of the city the Wall had gradually been taken down, except for a few preserved areas that reminded modern Germany not to forget its past but to confront and acknowledge it.
Passing the imagery at the East Side Gallery Felix continued on, crossing the Oberbaum Bridge. The train rattled overhead, whilst the cars, cyclists and pedestrians passed through the bridge’s ornate arches. Felix looked down into the icy water and thought, ‘This river goes all the way to Muggelsee’. With luck, he’d be taking the go-between to Muggelsee later that night, to her final destination.
Lotte Holler lived alone in a high-rise apartment building. She had a regular daily visit from a younger woman who came at lunchtimes when Lotte went home on her break. Felix worked out they were sisters from listening to Julia repeat her daily ritual as she rang on her sister’s bell.
‘Lotte, it’s your one and only sister, Julia. I’ll let myself in,’ she always said.
Lotte drove an old car, a red VW Polo Estate that she used for shopping although she mainly walked or took the U-Bahn and the car remained parked outside her apartment in the street. She worked within walking distance of her apartment as a plain clothed security officer at Karstadt, one of a chain of large department stores found throughout Germany.
Felix had visited the store on his stalking visits to Berlin over the past few weeks, smartly dressed and disguised with a dark wig under a trilby hat. He had eaten daily in the restaurant on the top floor, spending a few hours inside the store away from the icy winds outside, watching Lotte at work. There were security cameras all over the place and he’d been careful not to draw attention to himself. On one occasion Felix thought he’d been caught out.
‘Excuse me, sir?’ Lotte Holler said, in an accusatory tone. ‘Come with me.’
Felix’s pulse raced. He’d turned around to witness Lotte apprehending a young, male shoplifter, not much older than himself.
‘Dunno what you’re talking about,’ the shoplifter lied.
Lotte’s voice grew hard and intimidating as she spoke on her walkie talkie. ‘Hello, security, can I have some back up? I’m in the music department.’
‘Be right there,’ came the response.
‘Empty your pockets,’ she said to the shoplifter. ‘You’ve got two unpaid items, namely CDs, in there.’
The shoplifter refused and turned to Felix. ‘Did you see me take anything?’
Felix shook his head. He looked at Lotte, thankful that she didn’t recognise him, and swiftly moved along. The shoplifter made a dash for the exit and the security team was on him immediately, pinning him to the floor.
Felix put on his wet suit under his clothes in the male toilets in Karstadt. It was lightweight and didn’t restrict his movements. He had already verified Lotte was at work having seen her in the toy department and had stayed inside the store until it was about to close. He passed the store’s post office on the way out and remembered it was here that he’d posted
his typed letter to the police, detailing the paedophiles from Horst’s diary. The memory made him smile. His mission was almost complete.
Felix felt protected by the cold, snowy shadows of the night as he walked quickly to Lotte’s apartment building, ice crunching beneath his feet and rubbing his gloves to warm his hands. He took off his wig and thermal hat, exchanging his headwear for a balaclava, and waited for half an hour in a darkened doorway for his victim to arrive.
Felix checked over his shoulder that the coast was clear, primed his gun and crossed the road. Before Lotte knew it, a masked stranger was pointing a gun at her head and she was being dragged into a doorway. He applied duct tape roughly to her mouth and tied her hands behind her back.
‘Don’t say a word,’ Felix ordered. ‘Give me your car keys.’
Lotte fumbled in her handbag. Felix checked the street to see it was clear and quickly dragged her the short distance to her car. She offered little resistance and he lifted her into the boot of the car, threw his rucksack and Lotte’s handbag into the front passenger seat and drove out of Berlin, crossing the Oberbaum Bridge and heading for Kopenick. The journey took around 40 minutes and Lotte, after a few kicks and muted shouts remained eerily quiet throughout. She had decided to save her energy until the car stopped at some unknown destination.
At Muggelsee, on the west jetty on the lake this time, Felix parked and took a few minutes to gather his thoughts. There was light covering of snow on the ground and he needed to urinate. With the headlights on, he could see the snow change colour as he emptied his bladder. He felt a little strange, abducting a woman: it didn’t seem right or natural but he reminded himself that this was the heartless bitch who had time and again taken him and Susi to the Musketeers. He primed his gun and tentatively opened the boot of the car.
She had only just managed to free her hands and pull off her duct tape and her screams were loud enough to be heard on the opposite banks of the lake. Lotte kicked out at him and caught his hand with her foot, kicking his gun to the ground behind him. By the time she had wriggled out of the car, Felix had quickly retrieved the gun and was pointing it at her head.