by Tanja Pleva
She had piercing blue eyes and long straight black hair which she had combed toward one side, to show her pretty ear and a large carat diamond earring. She was very attractive at first glance, at second glance though, Sam felt irritated by her lips that were unnaturally enhanced, by her tattooed eyebrows and too large eyes which probably had some eyelid lifting.
The aroma of freshly ground coffee hovered in the room, but also an acid smell of window cleaner, which a short while ago seemed to have been in contact with the glass table that showed no fingerprints. A coffeepot, a couple of cups and biscuits were already waiting there.
'Sit down, please. Would you like some coffee, tea or anything else?'
Sam asked for a coffee and Juri, who preferred to drink cocoa but did not want to bother the lady of the house, settled for a glass of water.
'How can I help you?'
Sandra placed herself opposite her visitors and looked at Sam. Her eyes strolled from his face over his broad shoulders to his hands, on which they rested for a moment.
'We have come to ask you a few questions about Jasmin Rewe's habits. She was your closest friend, wasn't she?'
'Yes, the three of us', she pointed at a silver-framed photograph behind the officers that was standing on a shelf of glass – and even there, there was not the slightest dust layer - 'did everything together: shopping, clubbing or on holidays, liposuction.'
Both men nodded and abstained from any comment.
'How would you describe her?'
'Jasmin was very extroverted. She liked to be the center of attention.'
'What about the marriage of the Rewes? ... Was it a happy one? Or were there frequent quarrels and problems?'
'You do not seem to be married, Mr. O'Connor.' She looked at Sam's ring finger and raised her eyebrows. 'Otherwise you would know that no marriage is free of quarrelling. What kind of a question is that?'
Sam kept his balance, though with some effort. 'There are reasons for why I'm not married. One reason is that women obviously change for the worse during the course of marriage …'
'… making plastic surgery their greatest hobby, playing Princess and the Pea and becoming pretty lazy', Juri finished, to earn a devastating look from Sandra.
'Was Jasmin Rewe then happily married, or wasn't she?' asked Sam again.
'Well, my husband and Dennis are close friends. They often travel together on holidays. And … Dennis is Piscean …'
There was a moment of silence.
'A what? … Piscean? Are you referring to the astrological sign of Pisces the Fish?' Juri glanced confused at Sam, who could not figure this out either.
'There are many satirists among Pisces. In Greek mythology, a satyr is …'
'… a demon of fertility, thank you very much. Do you want to tell us that Dennis Rewe was a sex-addict?'
Sandra cast an admiring glance at Sam and stroked over her hair. Even Juri was impressed by Sam's knowledge.
'He was always calling prostitutes into his room. But Jasmin had no idea.'
Sam allowed this final sentence to reverberate in his mind. Women were a different species. They often had most sensitive aerials for unfaithful partners. Maybe she had known and picked the wrong guy for revenge. He thought of Lina, who had flung her arms around the neck of the very first chap whom came along, just because his own neural circuits had flickered out for a moment. This had triggered a fatal avalanche of events and accidental acquaintances that had turned out fatal for Lina. Just as in the Rewe case?
'Did Jasmin maybe have a lover?' Sam asked suddenly.
An extroverted woman seeking support and confirmation must have had a lover.
Sandra winked and sipped at her cup. 'A lover?' She took an audible breath as if she had run out of oxygen. 'She never told me anything like that. But you know I would not put my hand into the fire for that.'
Sam and Juri exchanged a quick glance and understood that they had the same impression. A lie was rampant.
Sam ran both hands through his hair, according to his habit and examined Sandra's baby-doll face. She was probably around forty. His critical expression seemed to discomfort her. She looked down in front of herself to arrange the milk pot and sugar bowl, while he produced the scene photos and carefully placed them side by side on the table. Seeing the victims usually convinced the person being questioned to be more communicative.
'A rejected lover perhaps may have committed the deed. Are you sure your friend Jasmin didn't have an affair?'
Sandra stared at the photos that illustrated all the hideousness of the deed and she pressed her slender diamond decorated hand on her mouth. 'Good Lord …' She floundered and rushed out.
When she came back, she was dabbing her painted eyelashes with a handkerchief. 'I am sorry but each of us also had her own life. Even though we did many things together that does not mean that we were symbiotically tied to each other. You cannot be absolutely sure what other people do and don't, can you?!'
Sam's glance rested on Sandra, until she got up again and claimed to have much business to do still.
As they were on the way out, Juri casually asked whether she had received a phone call by her friend from Barcelona. He remembered that Jasmin had carried a mobile phone in the lobby and was sure that she had spoken to somebody before entering the elevator. Unfortunately, the mobile phone was still kept by the Spanish police and not accessible either for him or Sam. Sandra denied this though and this time he even believed her.
Sandra observed the two officers leaving the entrance downstairs and walking up the garage drive towards their car, which was parked at the side of the road. As the dark-haired policeman turned around once again and looked up to her, she stepped aside, startled. Then she quickly reached for her Blackberry and pressed 'Nicki’.
'We will not stain her name, got that?! We have sworn not to tell anything. Whatever might befall. Imagine how Dennis would feel if we shouted from the rooftops what we know about this funny Web acquaintance of hers. And think of her two children!'
'You know the way Dennis is enjoying himself. It was you who told me that he is fucking whores', Nicki retorted. 'And moreover, you will not want to have a murderer walk freely around, will you?'
'Think about it. First of all, she will hardly have told him that she would accompany her husband to Barcelona. Second, she wanted to disrupt this contact. And she had never met him personally.'
Nicki Hörner hung up with pounding heartbeat. She hoped that these two policemen would not show up at her door as well.
9.
Nicki Hörner was living a bit more modestly, yet stylish, in a small flat belonging to an old building in the district of Winterhude. Other than her two friends, she displayed a natural beauty and had not fallen victim to any surgeries, which might mean again that she was the weakest link in the chain. Maybe she was the one who was not quite part of the gang, because she had less money, was not married, had no children and did not share the hobbies of the others or even was opposing them. Where there are three, one is always too much, Sam thought, hoping that he would get her talking. But he had been wrong, for Nicki Hörner kept tight as well, although she turned out to be a mediocre liar. When he asked her whether she knew about any affair of Ms. Rewe, she denied and blushed. Both friends were lying to high heaven to … to do what? To maintain Jasmin Rewe's reputation?
'Why are they lying like mad?' Juri started the car. 'They could nicely help in catching a murderer, yet instead, they prefer acting out the honor of the Three Musketeers. Silly cows.'
'Maybe because Ms. Rewe really had an affair, but they are sure that it wasn't our suspect. They don't want her husband and the children to know about it. - Tell me, aren't you a Piscean as well?'
'I think I am, why?'
'Because this would explain a lot.' Sam grinned at Juri, who immediately thought of a nasty reply.
'I wonder why you didn't notice the mobile phone.' Juri slapped his forehead. 'Oh, I forgot, you weren't wearing your glasses.'
Sam shook his head, laughing. Juri was not the man who liked to be at the receiving end.
'Nice. And what shall we do now?'
'Wait for a miracle', Sam briskly remarked, and earned his partner's incredulous look as his mobile phone silently began to vibrate.
Sam answered and listened for thirty seconds without even a word. When he hung up, he grinned roguishly at his partner. 'Well, it's time to start believing in miracles. Seems that yet another one has been lying here.'
The Rewes were living on a side street in Klein Borstel, a part of Hamburg that was unknown to Sam, but he liked it. High trees lined the streets, the front gardens were well maintained, nice old villas rose between modern houses. They resembled the areas in Rothenbaum and at the river Elbe, which he remembered from last time.
Juri parked their car in front of a pretty ochre and white villa and compared the house number to the one that they had jotted down. Three Mercedes limousines were standing in the driveway.
Juri looked inside the 500 SL, admiring the interior equipment, which was made of light brown leather and the armatures of cherry wood. 'Nice. The economic crisis seems to pass some people without touching them.'
Dr. Rewe himself opened the door for the two officers and asked them to take a seat in the living room.
Juri took a seat on a barstool, Sam sat down in another corner where he found a wine-red velvet armchair with golden armrests just opposite of Dr. Rewe, who was now much paler than last time Sam had seen him, looking even ill.
Dr. Rewe gazed from Sam to Juri and back to Sam.
'Have you actually progressed then in your investigations?'
'Indeed. We interviewed both friends of your wife and we learned interesting things.'
'I say! And that would be what, if I may kindly ask?' Dr. Rewe got up, went to the fridge and fetched a bottle of vodka from the icebox. 'Would you also like to have one?'
Sam politely refused, exchanged a glance with Juri and watched Dr Rewe pouring himself half a tumbler of vodka and swallowing half of that with a gulp.
'Excuse me but, actually, I feel like I´m going crazy. My situation is intolerable. I cannot restrain myself from feeling guilty because I took my wife to Barcelona.'
'But actually that had not been your intention at all, had it?'
Juri looked up and Dr. Rewe put down his glass. None had failed to notice Sam's lurking undertone.
'I thought it might be positive for our marriage.' Dr. Rewe refilled himself once again. 'Do you want to suggest anything concerning me?'
'We discovered that you prefer to call prostitutes into your room when you are on holiday.'
'What I am doing in my private life is hardly your business, gentlemen. This is outrageous!' The doctor pretended to be upset. 'Above all, what actually has this got to do with the murder of my wife? Be honest, sir, you have no plan at all, you did not advance any bit in your case and now you have in mind to frame me, the closest one available, because actually, you would like to close the case and go home to your wife and children.' Dr. Rewe laughed derisively.
'There are a few inconsistencies with regard to your person', Sam set out without responding to the accusations. 'Didn't you tell me you had been out for lunch with a colleague for two hours? Between three and five p.m. approximately?'
Dr. Rewe's laughter suddenly froze. He turned serious and rubbed his neck. 'Did I say so, actually?'
'I may read out your statement to you again.' Sam began to open the folder and to browse the sheets.
'No need to', the gynecologist gave in. 'Well, that seems to imply that I was not spending as much time with him. What now?'
Sam's eyes narrowed.
'You seem not to fully understand how serious this situation is. Where had you been after that?' he asked sharply.
'Out.'
'Out?' Sam looked at the man as if he did not have all his marbles.
Now Juri raised from his stool. Dr. Rewe had pursued his condescending attitude too far and Juri was familiar with Sam becoming furious. 'Get a jacket, please. We will take you to the police station, Dr. Rewe.'
The doctor raised his hands as a sign of surrender. 'All right …' He took his glass again and emptied it quickly. His eyes were now glassy, his voice slightly mumbling.
'I dated a woman then, actually. Are you now satisfied?'
Juri and Sam exchanged glances again.
'What's her name?' asked Juri.
'Saida', Dr. Rewe answered quietly.
'And her last name?'
'You aren't going to believe me now, I am sure. But I don't know, actually. I know nothing but her number. She's a professional. I call her any time I come to Barcelona', he explained with despair in his voice, facing the distrustful looks of both policemen.
'Just a minute ago you told me you had taken your wife along because you thought that might be positive for your rotten marriage! And now you tell me that you dated another woman while your wife was sitting alone in your hotel room? Come on, Dr. Rewe, give it a little more effort than that!' Sam was yelling now. He most hated when people tried to take the piss out of him. 'Tell us what really happened between four and six p. m.!'
Dr. Rewe clumsily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Now his babbling had worsened. 'Three … three weeks I'd been looking forward to this jour... to this trip, actually.' His eyes flickered. 'And then …'
'… your wife interfered and insisted on coming along?' said Sam as cold as stone.
Dr. Rewe felt stiffly for his own neck and exhaled aloud. 'That woman is really one of a different kind. Does things which my wife never wanted to.' He rolled his eyes. 'Oh, what did I say, she turned fully hysterical when I told her about my preferences once.'
'What preferences?'
Sam had a variety of images in mind, from whipping in polished leather to piercing needles through nipples, but when Dennis Rewe told about his special preference, something yet turned into a hard ball inside his abdomen.
Saida was a dominatrix, specializing in urethral dilatation.
Juri as well had stopped breathing while listening and silently compared that to medieval ways of torture. Now he jotted down the number of the Spanish woman while casting hasty glances at Sam.
'We will check this', said Sam, when he felt the mobile phone vibrating in his pocket again. He ignored it and tried to remember what else he had urgently wanted to ask Dr. Rewe, as Juri showed to be faster than him.
'Who knew about your date? I mean, you had to arrange for it somehow. What did you tell your wife?'
'That I had a few business meetings and would not be back before early evening.'
'And when exactly did you tell her that?'
'Oh dear. How shall I know now?'
Dr. Rewe tapped his forehead as if that might assist his memory. He rested himself, slightly swaying at the bar and finally sat down next to Juri on a stool.
'Well, before the trip, in the airplane, in the hotel room, by text message … try to remember', persisted Juri.
Sam's mobile phone went on vibrating until he decided to accept the call. He rose and went to the terrace. 'Excuse me.'
Suddenly he remembered his question again. 'Oh, by the way, has your key-card been found?'
Dr. Rewe shook his head and observed his own fingertips that were rubbing each other.
Much to Sam's surprise, there was Nicki Hörner on the line. And sobbingly she explained to him that her friend, Jasmin, had had a Web acquaintance. In her mailbox had been a message by Jasmin, which Nicki had listened to only now. She sounded excited and asked whether Nicki had mentioned her trip to Barcelona to somebody or whether she had noticed anybody during her birthday celebration in the café. Nicki was asked to call back very urgently.
She confirmed that at her friend's birthday she had noticed a man with a newspaper, who had been sitting two tables away and staring at a page for half an hour or more.
So Juri had observed quite correctly. Jasmin had indeed made a phone call, either shortly befo
re or shortly after she had stepped into the elevator. He would have to watch that video again.
Dr. Rewe had submitted his wife's laptop to the officers without complaining and now it was on Juri's desk waiting to reveal its little secrets.
A happy family smiled from the screen-saver, a family that would never be the same again, Sam mused, while Juri was flicking from folder to folder, opening files and photo albums, hoping to find anything that might tell more about this strange Web acquaintance. Finally he found it in the download folder: A chat was saved there, dated one month ago. He hardcopied the file and gave it to Sam, who absent-mindedly sat next to him at the table, trying to imagine how Dr. Rewe got a third of an inch wide catheter probe all the way up his urethra and an orgasm from that.
'You are thinking of the Spanish dominatrix and Dr. Rewe's perverted ideas of sex, I presume?' Juri said looking into Sam's painful face.
'Reading minds again?'
'Just faces. Yours was quite terse now, as if you were imagining some nice urological games.'
Sam shuddered and started to read:
Picasso: Hi
Sunshine: Hi
Picasso: How lovely that you are back.
Sunshine: I told you I would try.
Picasso: Last night I thought about what is going on
among us. I feel that we are on the same level, and this has … how shall I say, caused quite powerful feelings. Feelings that I have not had for a long time.
Sunshine: I know. I feel the same way.
Picasso: Do you realize that this could be the beginning of great love? But we will only know for sure if we dare to do the next step. A step out of
virtuality.
Sunshine: Hum. I don't know. And what if your expectations or mine are not fulfilled?
Picasso: We have both walked too long in the desert, without water. We are dried up. It is time to water the plants.
Sunshine: Don't let us hurry.
Picasso: You are hiding again. I am tired of waiting. I need somebody at my side again. I do not want myself to be my only support anymore.