“At least now I can end this all myself,” she said and laughed. And to prove it, she placed the pointed end of the splinter against the veins in her wrist and pushed. That would do.
But then rage boiled over. Before she hurt herself, she wanted to attack the man who had put her in this hole. She would wait by the door and jump him the next time he opened it.
She sat feverishly on the floor and concentrated on the world outside the door. She constantly struggled to regain control of her thoughts, which drifted in the most absurd directions. After she had been sitting there for about an hour, her ears pricked: she could hear the familiar footsteps. They seemed a bit slower than usual, but she could also be mistaken.
Merle knelt by the small hatch.
She heard someone kneel outside. Merle held her breath. She was quite sure her kidnapper was a man. Her assumption proved right when the hatch was lifted and a hairy man’s arm was visible. As the accompanying hand shoved in a new tray, Merle lunged forward. The man shouted as she clutched the hand and tried to pull it forward. She could feel her nails digging into the strange flesh. Shortly thereafter she could hear violent swearing. The man tried to release himself with his other hand. She desperately defended herself and shouted as loud as she could through the opening. The man let go of her wrist and poked her in the eye. She screamed and covered her face with her hands.
A moment later, the flap came crashing down, and the bolt was pushed forward. There would be no food this evening.
At five forty-five, Hannes parked in a garage near the old casino. He had put his gym bag in the trunk because the boathouse was on the other side of town. Even though he wanted to get out of there before the official start of the event, he had stopped to buy a white button-down shirt so he would look somewhat presentable. He had also purchased a pack of much-needed underwear.
As he walked toward the old casino, he saw no signs of suspicious activity. In front of the stone staircase that led up to the columned entrance, a long red carpet had been laid out and was flanked on both sides by bushes in white planters. Two young men were demarcating the entrance with elegant white wooden fences, while the last Styrofoam boxes were being unloaded from a catering van. Bright flags with Lagussa’s blue logo fluttered in the wind.
Nobody took notice of Hannes as he ran up the steps and entered the imposing building. He scanned the area and noticed a brutish security guard in a black suit, who politely stepped in Hannes’s way.
“Excuse me, but the doors don’t open until seven. I unfortunately cannot let you in. Do you have a ticket?” He scrutinized Hannes, whose tattered jeans didn’t exactly go with the clean white shirt.
“Uh, yeah, I do, but my colleague has it,” Hannes said.
“Then you have to wait. As I said, the doors don’t open for another hour.”
“I’m not here for the gala. I would just like to have a word with Ms. Stahl.”
“Who?”
“Well, she organized the event. Ms. Stahl from Lagussa.”
“I apologize,” said the security guard. “I have strict instructions not to let anyone in before the event without a security pass.”
Hannes was about to pull out his police badge when Anna came around the corner. “Hannes, I had no idea you were coming. What are you doing here? The event doesn’t start until seven.”
“I wanted to talk to you briefly. I unfortunately cannot attend, but my boss has already promised to guard the buffet.”
Anna showed the guard her security pass. “It’s fine, I’ll take responsibility for him.”
The man stepped aside, and Hannes followed Anna down the hallway. She seemed frazzled and kept looking at her watch.
“Tonight we have a lot of prominent guests, politicians and people from show business, so we have strict security measures.”
“Do you have some time right now?” Hannes asked.
“Not really. I have to speak with the sound engineer. The sound check was awful. But that won’t take long. If you walk through the ballroom, you’ll see a large glass door on your right. It leads to the terrace and a small garden. We set up a bar there. Get yourself a drink. I’ll be with you in a few minutes, okay?”
“Of course! I won’t keep you for long, promise.”
“Cool, I have to run!”
Anna hurried away, and Hannes smiled as he gazed at her figure-hugging black cocktail dress.
Hannes entered the main hall where the waitstaff was busy making last-minute preparations. Several long rows of tables were covered in dazzling white linens, while the crystal glasses and silver cutlery produced a glittering sea of stars in the light of the chandeliers. The chairs were also covered in white cloth, and there were probably enough for several hundred people.
At the end of the hall was a large stage for the band. Several technicians were busy setting up two cameras and discussing the correct angles and settings. Hannes almost regretted not attending the event. He strolled through the rows of tables and stepped through a wide glass door onto the terrace, which was festively decorated with several high tops and a lavish bar.
Since the servers were still busy stocking the bar, Hannes decided against a drink and leaned against a table. The sun was low in the sky, plunging the little garden into soft light. He could hear gently rippling water. Hannes closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm sunshine. When he opened them again, Anna was in front of him.
“Quick nap?”
“It’s all so dreamlike. Everything looks great!”
“Thank you,” she said and smiled. “I’m quite happy. Mr. Ternheim has the highest standards, and I don’t think he’ll be disappointed.”
“Does the sound equipment work now?”
“I hope so. The engineer swore everything is under control. If not, I’ll strangle him.”
Hannes chuckled.
“How come you’re not staying for the gala? I’m sure you’d like it. We hired a great band. Once the speeches are over, it should be fun. The food is supposed to be excellent.”
“I’d really like to stay.” Hannes told her about practice for his upcoming race.
“Oh, well, that’s understandable,” she said but looked a little disappointed.
“I’ll watch it later on TV,” joked Hannes. “I saw some cameras being set up.”
“That’s right,” she said. “Since it’s a charity gala and celebrities are making donations, the media wants to cover it. A lot of reporters are coming too.”
“A successful PR stunt, then. Do some good and talk about it . . .”
Anna frowned. “Sure, you can see it that way. But it’s for a good cause, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be publicized. Anyway, what did you actually want to talk about?”
“I’ve been thinking about our conversation. In particular, I was wondering if Mr. Ternheim knew anything about the relationship between his sister and Ms. Wagner?”
“Shh, not so loud!” Frightened, she looked around and lowered her voice. “I don’t know. But if he did, he wouldn’t have been thrilled. Sometimes he makes crude homophobic remarks.”
“If he did know, could that have been a reason for their estrangement?”
“For sure! But she wouldn’t have told him about her relationship.”
“Does anything else stick out to you? Anything about the relationship between the siblings?”
“Why? You don’t suspect . . . ?” She was aghast.
“No, no, it’s just routine.”
Anna was now on guard. “I in no way wanted to cast suspicion on Mr. Ternheim. I think the rift between them was about her research into Lagussa’s past. He probably overreacted. You should know that Mr. Ternheim is somewhat paranoid. He’s always smelling a conspiracy and doesn’t trust anyone. I can give you an example, but it has to remain just between us. Mr. Ternheim received an anonymous tip that someone wants to crash this event tonight. And by ‘crash,’ I don’t mean show up uninvited. I mean there’s going to be an incident. Mr. Ternheim didn’t tell me anythi
ng specific. But he insisted that security be tightened and has been tremendously nervous all day. I mean, let’s be honest, who would use a charity gala to provoke a scandal? Sure, there are always wackos, but it’s very unlikely.”
Hannes had to grab the table to steady himself and struggled to keep a straight face. “Where did he get this information?”
“An anonymous call. The person warned of a scandal. The caller wouldn’t . . . Oh, here he comes.”
Mr. Ternheim walked over to the table, his back stiff, and looked sternly at Anna. “I’ve been looking for you all over! There’s some confusion with the guest list. Could you take care of it?”
“Of course, right away,” she said and shot Hannes an apologetic look. “Please, excuse me.”
“Uh . . . yes, of course, no problem. Thank you for . . . for the talk,” Hannes said.
After Anna hurried away, Mr. Ternheim said, “Are you looking to rub elbows with the rich and famous?”
“Not at all, my boss will be taking over for me. I’m just waiting here and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Maybe it’s good we have the police here tonight.” The director stared into the distance.
“Why’s that?”
“Sorry?” Ternheim said. “Oh, it’s never bad to have law enforcement around, right? After all, there’ll be an illustrious group here. What were you discussing with Ms. Stahl?”
“Nothing. As I said, I agreed to meet with my boss here and randomly bumped into her. We’ve been investigating various aspects of your sister’s case separately and have to exchange information.”
“Yes, my sister . . . Actually, it’s her event tonight. Maybe I should have canceled everything. It’s strange we’re celebrating without her.”
“Mr. Ternheim, your sister was pretty tense lately. So much so that it struck many of your employees as unusual. Was she threatened or did anything seem strange to you?”
Mr. Ternheim gazed over the little garden. “I have to put this show on first and then sleep on it. Even though it’s the weekend, I’ll be in my office tomorrow. Come in the morning with Mr. Janssen, and maybe I can tell you more. Oh, speak of the devil. I’ll leave you two alone so you can brief each other. The first guests will be arriving soon.”
He gave Hannes a limp handshake. Hannes would have expected a viselike grip, but maybe the past few days had left their mark on him.
Fritz quickly said hello to Ternheim, then walked over to Hannes. He was wearing a long-sleeved light-blue shirt and a black pinstripe suit that looked a bit dated. He had casually thrown the jacket over his shoulder.
“Well? Have a nice chat?” he asked.
“There are certainly more pleasant conversation partners, but he did say he’d maybe have new information for us tomorrow.”
“Well, well! Look at you!” Fritz eyed Hannes with interest. “You really seem to have a knack for difficult characters. With me, he’s as tight-lipped as they come.”
“I guess. He said he needs a night to think it over.”
“Then let’s hope his thoughts lead somewhere, and it’s not just a diversionary tactic. Did Ms. Stahl have anything more to add?”
“No. However, she did hint that Mr. Ternheim is not particularly tolerant of homosexuals and doesn’t believe he knew of his sister’s lesbian relationship. And he’s apparently afraid something will happen this evening. Someone gave him an anonymous tip. Security has been tightened.”
“You can say that again. And I had completely forgotten about your buddy’s protest. Did he tell you what he and his group are up to?”
“No, he wouldn’t divulge anything.”
“I hope you remember who’s buttering your bread.”
“He honestly didn’t tell me anything!”
“All right, all right! I believe you. So, what have you found out about Lagussa today?”
Lounge music began playing in the ballroom, and a few guests walked out onto the terrace. Hannes thought he recognized a famous fashion model, but he wasn’t sure.
“It seems they’re letting people in now. Maybe we should stand off to the side?”
“I don’t care,” Fritz said. “Let’s head into the garden, the guests will hit up the bar first, anyway. Besides, I can hardly be seen with you!” He glanced at Hannes’s outfit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be leaving shortly. Why would I buy a suit for an hour?”
“A man should always have a suit in his closet,” said Fritz.
“All right, boss.”
Fritz groaned and sat down on a garden bench.
“How’s your back?” Hannes asked as he sat down beside him.
“The usual, not worth mentioning. So, what’s up with Lagussa?”
“Lagussa’s definitely really good at business. Last year, the company generated a profit of 324 million euros. It’s active worldwide, but its core market is Europe, which isn’t surprising. According to the OECD, about 20 percent of workers in industrialized countries suffer from mental illness, a majority of them from depression. Worldwide, over 120 million people are affected. So Lagussa is in a very lucrative market. And that’s just the total sales for psychotropic drugs. I found an old figure from 2008—back then, consumers spent a shocking 100 billion US dollars on such drugs.”
“Brave new world, huh? We shape the world according to our expectations only to realize at the end of the day that it’s not quite what we wanted. Then we down these pills in order to put up with all this shit, but keep doing the same thing. In the past decade, the number of prescribed antidepressants has doubled, and mental disorders are the most common reason for hospitalization and people going on disability.”
Hannes stared at him in amazement.
“What? You think I don’t read the paper?” said Fritz, somewhat miffed. “I may be out for the count, but I still pay attention to what’s happening around me. Anyway, continue!”
“Well, most of what’s out there on the Internet is about the drug scandal in the nineties. The most interesting thing, however, is that both Ternheims were responsible for the drug’s release. It was called Xonux and was supposed to be some miracle drug for anxiety disorders. However, it was quickly suspected to be responsible for heart attacks and strokes, some of which were fatal.”
“I know plenty about the scandal. It was in the papers for weeks. I still remember it. More interesting is what you possibly found out about the company’s involvement in the Nazi era.”
“Back then it was the North German Chemical and Pharmaceutical Works, or NGCP. What was on the Internet was circumstantial, and there was no evidence of cooperation with the Nazis.”
“So you’re saying you didn’t find anything?”
“No, I actually did because I then found a very competent source.”
Fritz was unimpressed when he learned who that source was. “Did you talk to Ben again about our investigation? I thought I made myself clear!”
“No, I didn’t tell him anything about our work. He already knows we’re dealing with Lagussa. All I said was that I was having trouble finding anything out about their history.”
Fritz grumbled but became more attentive the more Hannes told him about the contents of the forum and archive.
“The photos were really the most difficult. It’s unbelievable that Heinrich Ternheim and his father collaborated with the Nazis when you see that old man today.”
“Just look at all the guys brought to trial for war crimes,” said Fritz. “Most of them are pretty feeble, yet they committed crimes against humanity. You can’t just look at people—you have to imagine them at the time they carried out their deeds. That’s the only way you can remain objective.”
“Could it be that Anna found the same documents in Ms. Ternheim’s bag?”
“You mean that someone leaked these documents to Ms. Ternheim? It’s possible. But I don’t see her being particularly active on this forum.”
“The only way to find out would be if we had Anna take a look at the content of the website.�
��
“Ah,” said Fritz with a smile. “So you’re on a first-name basis with Ms. Executive Assistant . . . I must say, you seem to have great people skills. Or is there more to it?”
“It’s possible that this Mark von Wittenberg, the man who was recently in contact with Ms. Ternheim, is also a member of this forum,” Hannes said, ignoring the banter. “Maybe he forwarded the documents to her or tried to blackmail her with them? And maybe it was he who warned Mr. Ternheim about the protest tonight.”
“Why would he do that? If he’d wanted to blackmail Ms. Ternheim, why would he warn her brother about a demonstration?”
“Maybe he didn’t blackmail her. Maybe he tipped her off in order to get Lagussa to do something.”
“Maybe, maybe, maybe,” said Fritz. “That’s a few too many maybes for me. Christian Ternheim is probably the only one who can shed light on this, but he’s bought himself another night to think. Look and see if von Wittenberg was active on the forum, then we’ll know if we can change these maybes into certainties.”
“You may read the paper, but you don’t know your way around the modern world. You usually use a screen name on a forum. Anonymity on the net—heard of it before?”
“You see? That’s why I have you. We complement each other,” Fritz joked.
“Have you found anything out yet about Mr. von Wittenberg?” asked Hannes.
“Not yet. Our boss put a rookie on it, but so far, he hasn’t found a lead.”
The terrace had now filled. Fritz looked at his watch. “This shindig gets underway in fifteen minutes. It’s best you make yourself scarce, otherwise you’ll have to walk through the packed hall during the ceremony. You should spare yourself the looks you’ll get . . .”
Hannes nodded. Together they went up the stairs, and Fritz put his hand on Hannes’s shoulder.
“I’m going to treat myself to a beer at the bar, otherwise I won’t be able to take the speeches. Have fun out on the water! Incidentally, don’t think you’re off tomorrow just because it’s Saturday. Let’s meet at nine”—Fritz glanced at the bar—“say ten at the office. Steffen’s already threatening to assign us backup. We desperately need a break in the case!” He gave Hannes a gentle nudge in the direction of the glass door and snaked his way to the bar.
Time Heals No Wounds (A Baltic Sea Crime Novel) Page 23