The Wages of Sin: A Kidnap, a Crucifixion, a Murderer on the Loose

by Inge Löhnig

  His old room had been turned into a guest room years ago, as had his mother’s. When he was in Hamburg, he always slept in it.

  Dühnfort could hear Julius clearing his throat. ‘There’s a small problem,’ he said. ‘Uncle Jost and Aunt Hilda have decided to come. I couldn’t possibly put them up in a hotel.’

  Does that mean I’m supposed to stay in a hotel? Dühnfort wondered. With his free hand, he got his car key out of his trouser pocket and opened the door. ‘You know Mum can’t stand them,’ he added. ‘They should stay out of her hair as much as possible.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t know yet – Mum says she’s not coming.’

  ‘Too bad.’ He had been looking forward to seeing her. ‘Why not?’

  ‘She has to fly to the States at short notice,’ Julius said. ‘A provincial museum over there supposedly wants to display some of her work.’

  ‘Supposedly?’

  ‘You know what I think of our mother’s artistic talents,’ Julius replied, ‘we don’t need to go into it now. So, I’ll make a reservation for you for two nights at the Hotel Casa Verde. Should I book a junior suite?’

  That was typical of Julius. He still saw Konstantin as a rival who he didn’t want in the house. Now he was taking advantage of the first excuse he could find to shove him into a hotel. ‘A sleeping bag and an air mattress will do me fine,’ Dühnfort replied in a fit of childish spite.

  ‘The house is full,’ Julius replied. ‘Unless you want to set up camp in the wine cellar, it’s probably better to book a hotel. I would love to put you up at my place . . .’ Empty words, Dühnfort thought. ‘. . . but Victoria is in her fourth month and still dealing with morning sickness. She has trouble with noise and smells. She needs absolute quiet, so it’s better if there are no guests in the house.’

  So, Julius was becoming a father and had decided to mention it only in passing. Dühnfort suddenly felt dejected. ‘I’ll sort out the room myself,’ he said and couldn’t bring himself to congratulate his brother. ‘So, we’ll see each other on Saturday.’ He pushed his mobile back into his shirt pocket, took the coffee off the roof and sat down behind the wheel. He drank the coffee and ate the dark chocolate. Julius had always met his father’s expectations. He studied law, became a defence lawyer and joined his father’s firm. In fact, he’d taken it over. Julius’s wife came from the inner circle of Hamburg society – where else. Dühnfort just didn’t understand why his brother was still trying to outdo him. He had been doing this for so long and with everything and he still considered him a rival. What kind of rival? Julius was alone on a battlefield that Dühnfort had left years ago.

  He was surprised to notice that he’d eaten the whole bar of chocolate. He crumpled up the empty coffee cup and tossed it in the bin near the car along with the chocolate wrapper.

  His phone began to ring again. Maybe Julius had realised that putting his own brother in a hotel didn’t accord with his fine English manners. But it was Georg Veith. ‘I have something for you,’ he said. ‘If it’s true, then you’ll get your search warrant.’

  * * *

  Just before three thirty, Dühnfort drove through the Grünwald suburb of Munich. Luxurious mansions peeked out from behind mature trees on vast properties. After a short search, he found the address that Veith had given him. Dühnfort phoned ahead to tell them he was coming, then parked in front of a modern wood-and-glass structure. Margarete Benningsen, the mother of the children that had been photographed by a stranger at the lake, let him in and led him to a spacious living room with modern designer furniture.

  She introduced Dühnfort to her children: two nine-year-old boys, twins; a son in year one; and a four-year-old daughter, who shyly hid behind her mother. Then she called the nanny, who took the children off to play. She flicked her long, chestnut-brown hair over her shoulder. ‘Now we can talk undisturbed.’ She turned to Dühnfort. ‘You said you wanted to discuss the incident at the lake in Mariaseeon.’

  Dühnfort nodded. ‘Last year, you asked a lifeguard for help there. What happened?’

  ‘That was an unpleasant experience.’ She leaned back on the sofa and crossed her designer-jean-clad legs. ‘I was swimming there with the kids. During the course of the afternoon, I noticed an older man who had settled down near us and was constantly rummaging around in his cooler bag but never took anything out of it. And then I realised that he always reached into his cooler when my children were changing. I got suspicious. When the man went swimming, I took the opportunity to look inside his bag. After that, my blood pressure rose to about two hundred, as you can probably imagine.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Dühnfort said. ‘But if you tell me what you found in the bag . . .’

  ‘He had set up a digital camera inside with a swivelling viewfinder. It was in a metal holder. The viewfinder was set up so that he only needed to glance into the bag to see what was in focus. On the outside of the bag there was a flap that he could just push to the side to uncover the lens and take pictures without anyone noticing. He probably had a whole series of photos of my children.’

  ‘Did you take the camera?’

  ‘No,’ she said with a frown. ‘And I’m still mad at myself for that. I wanted to phone the police, but I’d left my mobile in the car. So I went to the lifeguard post. It took a while to convince the young man on duty to follow me. When I returned to our spot, our neighbour was gone.’

  ‘He probably saw you and decided to leave. Did you report the incident?’

  ‘I filed a complaint the next day at the police station here. When I asked about it a week later, I was informed that they hadn’t been able to trace the man. Are you after him now?’

  ‘I’ll get him with your statement,’ Dühnfort said. ‘Assuming it’s the same man.’

  ‘Of course,’ Margarete Benningsen replied. ‘He was in his late sixties, early seventies, thin, in good shape for an old guy, around one metre seventy-five. His hair was completely white, but still very thick. He somehow reminded me of Laurence Olivier.’

  Wednesday, 14th May

  It was two minutes to seven in the morning when Dühnfort turned into Kallweit’s street. A small convoy followed him.

  After he’d left Margarete Benningsen on the previous day, he’d driven to the district court to apply for a search warrant for Kallweit’s house. It took quite a lot of effort to convince the public prosecutor Christoph Leyenfels. At first he questioned whether it was within Dühnfort’s jurisdiction and wondered if the case wouldn’t be better left with the unit that specialised in paedophilia. But Dühnfort saw a connection with Jakob’s kidnapping. Kallweit had lied about his alibi and he must have seen Jakob in the garden with his friend. Half naked. ‘Perpetrators often start out relatively harmless, content with their pictures and movies. But eventually they want to live out their fantasies. I don’t need to tell you that,’ Dühnfort said. In the end, Leyenfels agreed with him.

  Dühnfort stopped in front of Kallweit’s house. The police cars, Gina’s red Golf and Alois’s black Mini rolled up behind him. Doors were slammed and twelve uniformed police officers stood in front of Dühnfort. He assigned two to secure the front gate and driveway and sent two to the back of the house. The remaining eight men would help with the search. Dühnfort rang the bell. There was no response. He rang again. If Kallweit doesn’t open the door within two minutes, I’ll break it down, Dühnfort thought and kept his finger on the doorbell.

  A charcoal-grey Opel Frontera drove up. The car slowed down and stopped in front of the gate. Dühnfort walked over to it. Kallweit rolled down the window and pressed the button on a remote control. The front gate opened. ‘What’s all this about?’ Kallweit asked. He looked tired and bleary-eyed.

  ‘I have a search warrant. Would you be so kind as to let us in?’

  ‘What?’ Kallweit looked shocked but immediately pulled himself together. ‘Just a moment. I’ll put the car in the garage.’ The garage door opened as if by magic and the car disappeared inside. A moment later, Kall
weit came out, walked over to Dühnfort and asked to see the warrant.

  ‘We’re looking for photos of children, photos of Jakob Sonnberger in particular.’

  Kallweit sighed and suppressed a yawn. His eyes were red and encircled by dark shadows. He unlocked the front door and let Dühnfort and his team inside. In the hallway, Dühnfort directed the troops to search the house under Gina and Alois’s command. Then he followed Kallweit into the living room.

  ‘So, you’re looking for photos of Jakob Sonnberger.’ Kallweit sat on the edge of a brown leather chair and kept his legs pressed together. He seemed tense. Grey stubble sprouted from his cheeks and chin. His clothing looked wrinkled. ‘I’ve already explained to you that I photograph plants and not children. Why do you believe these slanderous rumours?’

  ‘We have a witness,’ Dühnfort said.

  ‘Someone who claims to have seen me photographing the boy?’ Kallweit asked incredulously.

  ‘A woman who saw inside your cleverly converted cooler bag.’

  ‘What cooler bag?’ Kallweit asked, studying his trouser leg. ‘I don’t own a cooler bag.’

  ‘And nor have you ever been near the kindergarten?’

  ‘Everyone who goes into the village has to go past the kindergarten.’

  ‘You never saw Jakob?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Jakob’s teacher found you hiding in a cornfield next to the kindergarten last summer and taking pictures.’

  ‘That was a great find. A real sensation. Pensioner photographs common poppies in full bloom. Papaver rhoeas is the Latin name for them, by the way. I showed her the pictures.’ Kallweit’s face had turned red and a vein throbbed at his temple.

  ‘Did you show her all of them? Even the ones of Jakob sitting in the paddling pool?’

  Kallweit tried to stay calm. He took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t photograph any children, just poppies. If the kindergarten teacher thought I was photographing children, why didn’t she call the police? I can tell you why. She had no reason to. And now, after this kidnapping, you’re looking for a culprit and I’m being made the scapegoat. But it’s not as easy as that.’ Kallweit leaned back and shut his eyes for a moment. Dühnfort got the impression that he was fighting back tears.

  ‘I have to take my medication now.’ Kallweit opened his eyes again and glanced at his watch.

  The man has good self-control, Dühnfort thought. Two deep breaths and he’s a proper gentleman again.

  ‘If you would please excuse me.’ Kallweit stood up and went into the kitchen.

  Dühnfort followed him. The kitchen was small and sparklingly clean, just like the rest of the house and garden. Kallweit maintained meticulous order in his kingdom. The kitchen had a rustic look. An L-shaped fitted kitchen, a small wooden table and two chairs with red floral cushions. Two uniformed officers were searching through the cupboards. Dühnfort asked them to come back later.

  Kallweit filled the coffee machine. ‘I can’t take the medication on an empty stomach,’ he explained. ‘Would you like a coffee?’

  ‘Very much,’ Dühnfort replied and looked out of the window. Alois and two uniformed officers were searching the garage. Kallweit got cups and cutlery out of the cupboard, filled a bowl with muesli and wheat bran and stirred in a cup of organic yogurt. Then he filled a glass with water and placed it next to the coffee cups. Dühnfort looked at his healthy breakfast and thought about having a chocolate croissant.

  ‘I’ve always considered a healthy diet important,’ Kallweit said, noticing his expression. ‘That’s why I’m in good shape for my age. I’m probably in better shape than you.’ He smiled at Dühnfort and got a packet of pills and a bottle with a dropper out of the drawer. He pushed two tablets out of the blister pack and into his hand.

  ‘These are just blood-pressure tablets, and drops for general well-being. Unfortunately, high blood pressure runs in the family.’

  Aha, thought Dühnfort. So a healthy lifestyle can’t ward off every ailment. ‘On Thursday afternoon, when Jakob disappeared, you were with your physician, Dr Wiessner, is that correct?’

  Kallweit turned round and took the coffeepot from the machine. ‘I already told you that.’ He came to the table with the pot, poured a cup for himself and then one for Dühnfort, and sat down. Only then did he offer the detective chief inspector a seat.

  Dühnfort took the cup but continued leaning against the windowsill. ‘But you left before three o’clock. So you weren’t actually at the surgery when Jakob was kidnapped.’

  Kallweit looked at him. ‘Milk?’ he asked, holding up the jug. ‘Last time you took milk in your coffee, if I remember correctly. But then you didn’t drink it.’

  Dühnfort caught himself imagining throwing the coffee at Kallweit. ‘Thank you,’ he said and reached for the jug.

  ‘Who told you I left before three? It must have been Mrs Hirthe, the receptionist,’ Kallweit said. ‘She should have retired long ago. A few weeks ago she mixed up my blood sample. She is unreliable. She made a mistake about the time.’ Kallweit took a sip of coffee. ‘Is that all? You don’t have anything else? I am curious as to how you got this search warrant.’

  Kallweit was back on his high horse. Dühnfort heard Gina storming down the stairs. She came into the kitchen. ‘The cellar door is locked. Where’s the key?’

  Kallweit stood up, got the key from near the front door and handed it to Gina.

  ‘Is this really necessary? There’s only a laundry room, a small workshop and a few shelves of unwanted books and magazines down there.’

  ‘We’re just doing our job. As a former civil servant, you must understand that.’ Gina grinned at him and disappeared.

  ‘Do what you must,’ he shouted after her, ‘but if you damage anything, I’m going to sue for compensation. And don’t so much as lay a finger on my tools.’ He sat back down and brushed the hair off his forehead.

  ‘Do you like living in Mariaseeon?’ Dühnfort asked.

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Since I was thirteen. My father was posted here.’ Kallweit paused and swallowed. Again, Dühnfort thought he saw him holding back tears. ‘He worked for the railway and we were given accommodation in the old train station. The Americans had bombed the station to smithereens in April 1945, and the monastery too. The munitions factory that they’d meant to bomb was actually five kilometres away. They still haven’t learned how to hit targets accurately, the Americans. Collateral damage? Pah! No one really cared about that back then.’

  ‘So, you like living here and you get on fine with everyone.’

  ‘Of course. What a question.’

  ‘But I don’t understand it. You’re liked well enough and yet people seem to have conspired against you. You are surrounded by liars who want to spread rumours about you. How do you explain that?’

  ‘They exaggerate enormously. Just because a few catty women have problems with their hormones and their grasp on reality, it doesn’t mean that I’m not a respected citizen in this community. This accusation is unfounded.’ Kallweit’s face had turned bright red. ‘You’ll see for yourself that I have nothing to hide.’ He picked up the pills and swallowed them dry. For a moment, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked straight at Dühnfort. ‘You can turn my house upside down, but you won’t find anything but photos of plants.’ As he said it, a slight smile came across his face. And for a second, Dühnfort was afraid that he might be right.

  ‘We won’t disturb you for any longer than necessary,’ he said. ‘You look really tired. Must have been a long night.’

  ‘Indeed. It’s really exhausting abusing young boys all night.’ Kallweit smiled again, but then his face suddenly changed. The smile disappeared and he no longer had full control of his facial expression. His mouth twisted and opened into a dark abyss and a hoarse sob burst out from deep in his chest. He put his hand in front of his mouth. Tears streamed down his face. Dühnfort was taken aback as he watche
d this sudden change.

  ‘My father died this morning at five thirty,’ Kallweit blurted out. ‘I was at his bedside the whole night. Please excuse me.’ He stood up and left the kitchen.

  * * *

  Kallweit was asleep. An officer was posted outside his bedroom door. Dühnfort stood with Alois in Kallweit’s office and looked through a pile of photographs. Pictures of roses in all colours and shapes. He slammed his hand down on the table. It was almost noon and they still hadn’t found anything. No prints, and no image files on Kallweit’s computer, which wasn’t even password protected. They hadn’t found any of Jakob’s clothes, not even a trace of the boy. But there were plenty of nature photos.

  ‘I told you, we’re wasting our time here,’ Alois said.

  Dühnfort looked through the window into the front garden. One of the uniformed officers opened the garage door with the remote. A young guy, surely new to the force. ‘Have you found anything in the garage?’

  ‘There was nothing there. We should put a stop to the search now. It’s not going to lead to anything.’ Alois shut down the computer.

  What was the officer doing down there? Dühnfort watched the boy closing the garage door electronically, then opening it and closing it again. He was playing. In the kitchen, there was a remote for the front gate. Dühnfort went into the living room. Television, DVD player, VCR and stereo all remote-controlled. Even the blinds could be operated that way.

  ‘Come on, let’s wrap it up,’ said Alois, who had followed him. ‘I’ll get Gina. She’s as good as done with the cellar. There’s nothing here. We’ve harassed a respectable citizen. What do you think Kallweit’s neighbours are going to be saying about him now?’

  Dühnfort had no intention of wrapping it up and it made no difference to him what the neighbours thought of Kallweit. He looked over at Alois. ‘Collateral damage,’ he said and went down to Gina in the cellar.