Life Slowly Faded

by Kieran Double

  Muller, Walker and I went to interview Adrian Wolfermann. I could sense Walker’s animosity towards me the whole day, but apart from the occasional curt remark, he kept it to himself. Wolfermann had just finished seeing a client when we were ushered into his office. His face changed for a second, turning more into that of a dog than a wolf. Maybe it was the reformed part of him. Maybe that’s what I would have seen in his sister. If I was able to see then…

  “What did your sister do?” asked Walker. He always led, I gathered. That was normally my job. Muller would never lead. Too… unsubtle. It was like watching another guy dance with an ex. The bond between

  “Honestly, half the time she just stole stuff, but she was a stripper, as well,” answered Brian Wolfermann. He was a neat man, in a neat suit, clean shaven to boot. His hair was black, trimmed to perfection. His face was marred by a new scar, the stitches clearly only recently removed. “The last few months, though… she was trying to get her life together, for Susie she said. She got a job working in a corner shop. Pay was minimum wage, but she didn’t care. Better than the alternative. Michael didn’t help. He said she was being weak. That’s why they broke up.”

  “What is Michael Merkel like, Mr. Wolfermann?” I asked, deliberately trying to annoy Walker. He didn’t rise to it, just grimaced slightly. Maybe he had changed overnight.

  “Violent. Sylvia said he used to beat Susie. He wasn’t too bad as a child. We were friends, but he changed in our teenage years, became more like his father and mine. That’s why Sylvie liked him in the first place. I only…” he paused, clearly uncomfortable. “…it was only after I got out prison for stealing a car that I pulled myself together. I cut off all contact with my family.”

  “Until Mrs. Merkel reached out to you. When was that?” said Walker, his eyes daring me.

  “Three months ago. She just turned up here. Said she needed help. I looked after Susie when she couldn’t.” Wolfermann put his face in his hands, half-sobbing. “I didn’t do a very good job. Susie was out in the waiting room, playing on my iPad. The next minute, she was gone. I’ve got the CCTV footage if you want it. Michael just came in and grabbed her. Sylvie was furious when she found out.”

  He stood up, wiping his eyes clean. “What about Susie?”

  “She’s in foster care, with Captain Artie Schlaukopf of the Homicide Unit. Don’t worry,” I answered, trying to reassure myself as much as Wolfermann.

  Walker stood up. That was our queue. Muller and I stood up too. Walker said, “Thank you, Mr. Wolfermann. Be sure to contact us if you have any information. We’ll find Michael Merkel. It’s just a matter of time.”

  Walker left after that, Muller muttering some lame excuse. We needed to talk to Wolfermann alone. I closed the door again. “We’ll find Michael Merkel, Mr. Wolfermann. Whatever it takes. I’m… a Huntsman.”

  “You are? I thought…”

  “…that he couldn’t see,” supplied Muller. “But as of yesterday, he can. Happened just after your sister was murdered. He saw Susie change.”

  “What do you want? There isn’t much more I can add. When Sylvia came to me, she wanted to become a Reformed Wolfmann. I tried to help her, successfully, I think. She always was stubborn.”

  “I know,” I agreed.

  “You were with her when she died, weren’t you, Mr. Phillips?”

  “Not exactly, Mr. Wolfermann. I was taking Susie back to my car. Your sister said she was going to take care of Michael Merkel. We heard a scream. Susie ran towards it, I followed her. Did she know I was a Huntsman?”

  “Yeah, well, at least that your sister was one. You’re quite famous in the Verstecktvolk world,” said Wolfermann, almost chuckling. “The blind Huntsman. Well, no more.”

  “Why didn’t you go to my sister? Surely, that would have been better.”

  “Your sister… she has a bad opinion of us. I mean, I get it. But she is always so skeptical of Wolfvolk changing. It doesn’t see to compute.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” agreed Muller.

  “Originally, she went to Captain Schlaukopf. Somehow she knew he was a police officer, said a friend knew him. But he referred her to you. She said he was just too scared of her. Everyone’s always scared of us. It used to give us a thrill, but now, when I’m reformed… it makes it hard.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Muller said. Sympathy was positively dripping off him.

  Walker was waiting for us outside, in an unmarked Crown Victoria. “What took you so long, Muller?”

  “Had some… unfinished business.”

  “Right,” said Walker curtly.

  I hopped over the side of the E-type, the roof down for once. The engine roared as I put the keys in the ignition. “Where to next, Detectives?”

  “Merkel’s place, Phillips. Should be… illuminating. You been there?” said Walker, unlocking the Crown Victoria.

  I shook my head. “No, and to be honest I’m not sure I want to go there.”

  “Why not?” asked Muller curiously.

  “There are rumors… about Merkel around the city’s seedier places.”

  “Going to give us something we can actually work with, Phillips? Or do we detectives always have to be one step behind?”

  I smiled at that. “Just wait till we get to the penthouse apartment, then we’ll see.”

  “Yes, we will,” agreed Walker.

  Ashley called when we reached the exterior of the Merkels’ apartment building. It was a modern confection of glass and steel. “What?” I answered, immediately regretting not ignoring the call in the first place. That’s what I normally did, but what I normally did got me in trouble.

  “Look, Marty, about… you-know-what… I’ll tell you everything in time. But at the moment, you need to know more about our world. I’ve talked with Wil. He’ll bring some books over, fill you in. There’s a lot you need to know.”

  “You’ve got that right,” I said tersely.

  “Can’t you leave it be?”

  “I might have the first lead to my wife’s murderer, and you tell me to leave it be. You’re supposed to be my sister, family.”

  “And I am, but I don’t know what happened to Annie, or who did it to her. It’s just suspicious. I think it might have been a Wolfmann. I have no idea who. But the brutality, the connection to us… it’s too coincidental. We were doing, a clearing out of the Wolfvolk back then. We’d found a pack, and killed them. And I told you we have history with the Merkels. Maybe Michael Merkel wanted revenge. They might be evil, but even the worst of the Wolfvolk are loyal to a fault, to their friends and to their family, their pack.”

  “Thanks,” I said, hanging up. So Merkel might be behind her murder. Finally, I had something tangible. Something I could kill. It wouldn’t make it better. I had no delusions about that. It would stop him from doing what he did to another woman, to another husband, another family. I would never find peace, but I could keep war from other people. Annie would never come back No matter what I did, nothing would make her come back. She was gone forever, but I was still alive, still kicking.

  “For a couple that appeared to have no regular jobs, they sure had money. Look at this place!” Walker exclaimed, wandering around the Merkels’ penthouse apartment. It took up the whole top floor. And Walker was right. Their money must have been funneled through somewhere legitimate. Seemed a good cover for whatever they were in to. The flesh market was eternal and everlasting. Forget farmers and warriors and bankers, no life could survive without those.

  “Yeah, but they probably know their business when it comes to crime” I supplied “And Michael Merkel owned a club.”

  “He did, did he? Now what exactly are we looking for?” continued Walker.

  “Anything that gives us an indication of where Merkel is likely to go, friends and so forth. But most of his contacts seem to have gone to ground. They’ve all gone with him. He must be the ringleader. Finding him shouldn’t be too hard, though.”

  “And how, Mr. Phillips, is that so? You sai
d it yourself, the man’s contacts have all disappeared with him. And something tells me, he’s good a staying hidden when he wants to. We’ve got nothing on him. He could be out of the country already.”

  “No, he won’t be, Walker,” I said stubbornly.

  “Why not?” Walker said scornfully “He’d be mad to stay. Murder one.”

  I took a deep breath. “First of all, we’ve got nothing on him for murder one. The dog probably did the killing, perhaps egged on and helped by Merkel. But that won’t be easy to prove. We’ve got him on kidnap, I’ll give you that, and unlawful possession of a gun, assault and child neglect. And secondly, more importantly, he hasn’t got what this thing was about.”

  Walker laughed. “You think he’s going to give everything up, just for his daughter. Doesn’t strike me as that kind of man.”

  “It’s not about Susie, it’s a matter of pride. That’s why he took her in the first place. To prove a point, that he was stronger than his wife. Now it’s about being better than us. He’s still in Washington, Walker.”

  “Right,” agreed Walker gruffly. “Split up. Look for anything incriminating. Anything at all. As much as I hate to admit it, Wil, Phillips is right. We can’t guarantee we’ll get him for murder one, so we’ll damn well get him for everything else under the sun.”

  The penthouse was big and spacious; three bedrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a sitting room, a balcony, a walk-in wardrobe and a huge bathroom, with a Jacuzzi. I took the master bedroom. Where to start? Don’t bother with the usual places; Merkel would hide something important. Instead, I started examining the floor, hoping that I wasn’t wasting my time. After what seemed like an eternity, I found it under the bed. With my flashlight pointing downwards, I could just make out a little square patch in the floor boarding.

  I pressed down on the square. It popped out and I shoved my hand down the hole it had created. My hand felt something almost immediately. Rough, leather. I felt it, shaping it out in my mind. Then I grabbed it. Flicking off my flashlight, I opened the book. There were pictures, and what looked like accounting entries next to each one. On the top of each page, a name had been written, pseudonyms probably. The pictures left little to the imagination. No one needed to tell me what the Merkel’s were into. Prostitution.

  I flicked around the page a bit until my eyes settled on the title of one page. Trix. I grabbed the picture, then ripped out all pages headed with the name. There were three pages in total, covered both sides in entries. I shoved them in my pocket. Why I did it, I’m not sure even now, but I did. And I haven’t regretted it for a second. She meant nothing to me, or shouldn’t, and I knew she wouldn’t want my unsolicited help. ‘Fuck off,’ she’d say. ‘You’re not a fucking cop anymore, don’t act like it? Remember what you are, boy.’

  “Guys,” I called out finally. “I think I’ve got something.”

  “What is it?”

  “The Merkels’ business,” I said, holding up the book. “A treasure-trove of information. Clearly showing that Merkel is a pimp. There are even records of when he ‘punished’ his prostitutes.”

  I read a few of the entries on one of the pages. Didn’t bring in enough money. Tried to escape. Earned $1,000 today. Tried to change pimp. I could feel the bile building up in the back of my throat. There were many worse things than murder and this was one of them. “All the names seem to be pseudonyms. We’ll… have to ask Susie whether she knows any of their real names, maybe where to find them. And I have a suspicion that she has seen some of these ‘punishments’.”

  “We better get going then,” said Muller, speaking for the first time in the Merkel penthouse.

  “Yeah, we better.”

  7

  Partners

  The brother met a huntsman, who took him with him, and taught him so well all that belonged to hunting, that he became clever in the craft of the woods.

  (The Four Brothers)

  “Susie,” I said softly, producing the book. “I want you to have a look at something for me. Just some pictures.”

  “So you found the book. Where was it?”

  “In a secret compartment under the floorboards,” I answered.

  “Show me the pictures,” she demanded, changing into a Wolfmann for fraction of a second.

  I handed her the book. “I want you to tell me if you recognize any of the women. I know the pictures might be… disturbing. That’s alright. If you don’t want to look anymore, I’ll take the book away.”

  “I’m a child, Mr. Phillips, not a fucking retard. And you think it’s more than I’ve already seen?” Susie said, flicking through the book. “Yeah, I recognize them all. My Dad’s girls. Guess you want their real names. Well, I’m sorry. I don’t know any of their real names. There was never any reason to tell me. But I can give you a few addresses. Some of them have probably moved, but I should be able to put you in the right direction. I’m not sure any of them will testify though, not unless.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I am,” Susie continued rudely “You two get out of here, I want to talk to Mr. Phillips alone.”

  Muller looked at me. I nodded. They left.

  “Well, Susie, what do want to talk about?”

  She paused for a second. “You took Trix’s pages, Mr. Phillips. Why?”

  I paused too. Then answered softly “I… dunno why, to be honest. Trix is a friend of mine – and no, I’m not a customer. She gives me information when I want it. I pay her for it. I didn’t want to shame her, I suppose. And maybe because she’s more use to me if it doesn’t come out. I’m not sure you’d understand.”

  “I do, Mr. Phillips”

  “It’s Marty, for god’s sake, Susie.”

  “‘Course it is, Mr. Phillips.”

  “Oh, shut up, Ms. Merkel,” I said, punching her playfully.

  She laughed. Then stopped. “Seriously, though, I’m thinking of changing my name, to Wolvermann. Less shameful. It’s his name. Not mine. Captain Schlaukopf says it’s complicated, though. That I have wait.”

  “Sometimes you do just have to wait, Susie. The way of life, I suppose”

  “That’s some serious shit from you, Marty.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Marty, you know Daddy has his men? Yes. Well, I know them better than you. They’re all Wolfvolk, except a few, but they’re Lowenvolk and Reise, which is nearly as bad. You’ll probably have to kill some of the suckers, you and your sister. They won’t rest until I’m back with him. Back with the pack, where I belong.”

  I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm. “One more thing, promise me this. If you find my Daddy, kill him if you can. For the girls, and for Mommy, and for me. Put a bullet in his head. And don’t forget the Alsatian, it’s nearly part of him.”

  “Will that even work? Isn’t there some special way to kill a Wolfmann?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “There isn’t. You just need to shoot him a lot of times. A few to the head should do it. We’re not invincible. Just… stubborn. Hard to kill. Like my Mommy.”

  “I promise, Susie, that if I can, I will kill your father. You hear me? I’ll kill him for the girls, your mother and you. You have my word. Shake on it?” I said, wondering what I was getting myself into. I held out my hand.

  Susie shook it.

  I’d just promised to kill a man out of hand. Well, fuck it, who was going to mourn him? His men? His dead wife? His daughter? His daughter! Oh, this was going to be fun, wasn’t it? Marty Phillips, hitman, here’s my CV you fucking normie. What difference did it make? I had known I was going to kill the bastard the moment he was on the hook for Annie. The girl was just an excuse, but she made me feel better. I was doing this for Susie, for the eleven-year-old, very much alive, child. So sue me, I was using an eleven-year-old as an excuse for that oldest of vocations; revenge.

  Muller and Walker were waiting outside for me. It was Walker who spoke. “What was that about?”

  “Ah, not much,” I said, dissembling.
“She just wanted to say thank you. She said that her father and his men would not stop until he got her back. But she did…”

  “Marty?”

  “She made me promise to try to kill her father if I could.” I was, unfortunately, more surprised that I had told them than by the fact I had agreed to it in the first place. What was I, a saint? No, I had surprised myself through honesty. Honesty! As I wrote earlier, I do not regret that promise. High absolute morals are one thing, but you put a person on the spot and see what they do. That is when people show their true colors.

  “You agreed, Phillips? Seriously?” exclaimed Walker.

  “Yeah, seriously. I didn’t say I would kill him, just that I would try. And trust me, I’ll try anyway. To protect her. I don’t know why, but just… feel that I have to protect her. She’s been through too much already. Besides, the way this is going, Merkel is looking for a confrontation, and I’m damn well going to give him one.”

  Walker left it. “You wouldn’t know it, though. That kid’s freaky. You sure she’s really eleven. It’s like an adult stuck in an eleven-year-old’s body”

  I chuckled. “She’s just precocious, Walker.”

  “What?”

  “Wise before her age, Andy” supplied Muller.

  They gave me a little desk, next to Muller’s and Walker’s. We didn’t do much for the rest of the day, though we tried to pretend that we were. There wasn’t any lead to follow. Nothing. There hadn’t been any sightings of Merkel. The CSIs were going through the apartment. I shared my extensive notes with Muller and Walker. They wouldn’t be much help. I had been concentrating on finding Merkel, true. I had addresses of places he liked to frequent, bars and strip clubs, mostly. Merkel was smart, though, he wouldn’t show up there.

  “Well, we haven’t got anything. Your notes help, Phillips,” said Walker. His tone seemed to have softened slightly. Working on a case did that to you sometimes; other people didn’t matter unless they were helping you. Then you would gravel at their feet, if only they gave you the information you needed. “But Merkel will be careful. How long do you think we have to wait for him to make a move?”