The Northern Cross (A Baltic Sea Crime Novel Book 2)

by Hendrik Falkenberg

  Hannes rubbed his sleepy eyes, but the cold November air gradually banished his fatigue. The ferry had barely begun to move, when the opposite shore soon appeared. Hannes’s heartbeat quickened. It was six in the morning, and the large-scale manhunt for David Bach was beginning. Uniformed officers reached the dock and checked every car waiting to head in the other direction. The twelve-mile perimeter had been established and roadblocks set up. Per steered the unmarked car off the ramp of the ferry and pulled over.

  “What now? I have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing.”

  “We’re supposed to look around and not get in the way,” Hannes said.

  However, it would take a while for the search teams to sweep in from the other side. The officers at their current location were only responsible for preventing Bach’s escape. A police boat patrolled the water, but it was unlikely Bach would plunge into the icy water and swim across the bay. But he could steal a boat and make a break for it.

  “Let’s go to the marina,” Hannes suggested.

  Per shrugged and started the engine. After a few yards, the street turned into a small road that led through some woods. A few sailboats languished in the water; the rest had already been hauled out for the winter. Uniformed officers were also stationed there, crawling under tarps and searching yachts. A retired majestic four-masted barque towered over the other end of the marina. It now served as a museum and wedding venue.

  “There’s a former campsite over there. Maybe we should check it out?” suggested Hannes.

  “I didn’t know it had shut down.”

  “They’re supposedly building condos, shops, and hotels there. But as far as I know, they haven’t finished demolishing everything. It’d make a perfect hideout.”

  Demolition had in fact already begun. A few abandoned RVs still stood around, and the detectives walked over to a decrepit trailer. The sky had turned from a deep black to a dark gray, and the sound of a distant helicopter could be heard.

  “The door’s cracked open,” Per whispered and fumbled for his firearm.

  “Keep cool,” Hannes said. “You might end up shooting some homeless guy.”

  The door creaked as Per slowly pulled it open. So much for the element of surprise. Hannes climbed inside after him. The old upholstery smelled musty, but even in the dim light he immediately realized nobody was staying there. The four other abandoned RVs also showed no signs of occupation.

  “That would have been too easy,” Per said. “It’s too bad. They probably would have given us a medal.”

  They returned to their car and asked their colleagues at the marina if there was any news.

  “Both helicopters have been in the air for half an hour. The search teams have covered the first mile, but it was mainly open terrain. The press has already gotten wind of the action. The first news vans will be rolling in soon.”

  The rain was beginning to fall harder, so Per and Hannes decided to drive through the streets of the nearby village. The first few inhabitants were stepping outside their homes and excitedly sharing what little they knew about the day’s surprising activities. As Per turned toward a sewage treatment plant, Marcel called Hannes.

  “Where are you?”

  “At the sewage treatment plant. What’s up?”

  “Not much. Our guys are making good progress, though. They’ve already searched the first couple of buildings and are showing residents photos. No one recognizes Frank Meister, but a lot of them think they’ve seen Bach. A man claimed to have seen him riding a bike two days ago.”

  “Where was that?”

  “Near the maritime school. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s hiding around there. At least we now know he’s been in the area awhile.”

  “I hope he still is. We’ve driven by everything already. Should we go somewhere else?”

  “No, stay on the peninsula. We’ll cover the remaining area. The closer the search party comes to you, the more likely the guy will get spooked. There’s no way he can’t hear the helicopters.”

  The search team was still far away, and their progress ground to a halt when they reached the villages. Per and Hannes spent the morning driving around the same streets. They had expected the day to be more exciting. Around noon, they stopped for fish and chips. Two plates of fried fish were soon placed in front of them. Per didn’t touch his sides of boiled potatoes and spinach, while Hannes quickly cleaned his plate.

  “You can always tell an athlete.” Per grinned and pushed the remains of his lunch over.

  “Your clothes would fit better if you’d clean your plate once in a while.” Hannes speared a potato. “I think we’ve been looking in the wrong place. If you’re looking to hide out for a long time, you’d choose something more secluded.”

  “But food’s hard to come by in remote areas.”

  “That’s why he had the bike. I suspect he broke into a cabin on the beach or a vacation home.”

  “Maybe. But I think he’s gone by now.”

  “Seems you’ve changed your tune from yesterday. Let’s pay and look around the beach.”

  Back in the car, Per asked, “Where do you want to start?”

  “The beaches get really big over to the east. We should look there.”

  “You want to take a walk on the beach? The search team will sweep by at some point.”

  “Oh right. I forgot. In that case, let’s just head home,” Hannes said sarcastically. “I’d like to feel I’m doing something useful instead of aimlessly roaming around.”

  “But Marcel wanted us to stay here.”

  “We’re not going that far.” He pointed to the map on the GPS. “We’re headed to this village. It’s tiny, but there are lots of vacation homes and a huge beach. There might even be some secluded cabins. They’d be an ideal hiding spot this time of year.”

  They rolled past a small pond before Hannes turned left and headed back toward the sea. In the distance, they could already see a helicopter; the search team must have scoured half the area. Thatched cottages soon appeared, and Hannes drove through the village.

  “Idyllic,” Per said. “But you didn’t want to look around town, did you?”

  “The beach is over there,” Hannes said. “I was here last summer, but I forget if there are any buildings. Let’s just take a quick look around.”

  Hannes parked the car. They trudged along a narrow sandy path through the dunes and met with uninterrupted views of the Baltic Sea. One of the giant Scandinavian ferries motored in the distance, and Per scanned the horizon. The beach was deserted, which wasn’t surprising. He pointed to the right.

  “Isn’t there one of those water-sports schools over there? I took a kite surfing class about five years ago. It was somewhere around here. But I only went once.”

  Hannes couldn’t really picture him kite surfing. “Well, the school’s got to be closed now. Let’s take a look. If we don’t see anything, we can turn around and drive back.”

  A relieved Per agreed. The stretch of coast ahead of them lay deserted and lifeless. There was almost no wind; tiny languid waves splashed against the sand. Suddenly, Hannes stopped and squinted through the rain.

  “What’s that?”

  About two hundred yards away stood a red-and-white steel skeleton. On a platform supported by four girders was a tiny house with windows on each side. As they approached, they could see the white lettering on the wall: German Lifeguard Association.

  “It’s just a lifeguard tower,” Per said. “Baywatch on the Baltic. I—”

  “Quiet,” Hannes said and pushed him toward the dunes.

  “What’s wrong?” Per asked.

  “There’s someone in the tower.”

  Hannes pulled out his binoculars and tried to make out the shadowy figure in the distance.

  “Damn rain. I can’t see anything. But there’s definitely a man inside.” He passed Per the binoculars.

  “Short blond hair. Seems tall.”

  “Let’s get closer.”

  “
Wouldn’t it be better to contact operation command?”

  “And what if it’s a false alarm? It could be someone out for a walk who wanted to enjoy the view,” Hannes said.

  “Then why would he break in?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t locked. We can use the dunes for cover. We’ll get a better look over there. If it really is Bach, we can call for backup.”

  Crouching, Hannes made his way over to the tower, and Per followed. The winter vegetation offered little cover, but Hannes hoped it was enough. He ducked behind a bush about a hundred yards away and looked through the binoculars.

  “I think it’s Bach. He seems nervous and is constantly looking in the direction of the helicopter. Let’s call for backup.”

  Per fiddled with his phone. “I don’t believe this. I don’t have any reception.”

  “Use the radio, but be quiet.”

  In a hushed voice, Per informed their colleagues of their suspicion. The SWAT team, which had been kept at the ready, was immediately dispatched.

  “Can you keep watch by yourself for a minute? I’ve really got to puke. I hope the fish wasn’t off.”

  Hannes grunted and lay down on his stomach behind the bush. Per darted in the direction of a tree, but he was oblivious to the root in his way. He stumbled and fell. Hannes chuckled, then turned his gaze back to the tower. The man hadn’t seemed to notice them; his attention was focused on the helicopter which hovered in the air off to the east. Suddenly, he opened the door and stepped out onto the platform. Hesitantly, he looked around. Hannes caught a glimpse of the man’s face through the binoculars. It was clearly David Bach, and he looked agitated. Hannes frantically looked for Per and cursed under his breath when he couldn’t see him.

  Bach began climbing down the ladder, and Hannes closed in on all fours. He quickly reached the edge of the vegetation; less than two hundred feet separated him from the tower. At that moment, Bach turned, faced one of the steel pilings, and unzipped his pants to pee.

  Barking could be heard in the distance; the search team moved closer. Bach turned his head to listen. After zipping up his pants, he raced up the ladder. Hannes watched in surprise. Did he really think he’d be safe in that box up there? Then it dawned on him, and a quick look through the binoculars confirmed what he had suspected. Bach was frantically cramming things into a backpack. Hannes saw this as his last chance. With lightning speed, he jumped up and ran toward the tower. Adrenaline coursed through him as he reached for his gun. He hesitated at the foot of the ladder and struggled to control his breathing. Then the adrenaline took over again. He carefully grabbed a rung with his left hand while he tightly gripped his firearm with his right. He climbed the ladder as quietly as possible, but apparently not quiet enough.

  Before heaving himself up, Hannes peered over the platform only to come face-to-face with a wide-eyed David Bach. They stared at each other in silence. Then their reflexes simultaneously kicked in. Hannes pushed himself up and pointed his gun in Bach’s direction, but Bach had the advantage due to his elevated position. He leaped over to the edge of the platform and kicked Hannes in his chest, sending him backward. Hannes lost his footing on the ladder. As he fell, he heard what sounded like a shout coming from Per.

  The fall seemed to take a surprisingly long time. Hannes saw David Bach slide down the ladder. Then Hannes turned, looked down, and hit the ground. A moment later, he saw nothing but the gray sky before it was swallowed by darkness.

  The first thing Hannes saw when he came to was Henning Federsen’s blurry face. There was an unpleasant throbbing in the back of his head, and he couldn’t think straight. Federsen’s lips moved like in a silent movie, and Hannes blinked. When he looked again, he saw two heads crowd over him. One was Per’s and the other Marcel’s. Then, suddenly, his hearing returned.

  “He’s coming to,” Marcel said.

  “He did a sweet backflip. Luckily he didn’t land on his head,” Per said.

  “Good thing the sand cushioned his fall.” This voice was unfamiliar.

  Hannes carefully turned his head. A young female paramedic knelt beside him, and his memory suddenly came flooding back. He frantically tried to get up.

  “Bach. He’s . . . he’s gone. Kicked me off the tower. Got to be around here.”

  “Easy, Hannes.” Marcel eased him back to the ground. “Per arrived in the nick of time and arrested him. Bach’s cuffed and sitting in the patrol car.”

  Relieved, Hannes closed his eyes and gave in to the exhaustion and dizziness. He tried to sit up again with help from the paramedic. Having tested his pupils, balance, reflexes, and ability to speak, she gave her diagnosis.

  “Concussion. Mild to moderate. Again, you were lucky. But you need to be examined at the hospital as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” Hannes said, but shouted in pain when the paramedic poked his torso. “What are you doing?”

  “You have bruises, maybe even a broken rib. There’s no way you’re not going to the hospital.”

  Hannes let himself be led to the ambulance.

  “Why did you climb up there? We had everything under control,” Per said.

  “We didn’t. He realized we were coming.”

  Hannes felt another dizzy spell come over him and clung to Per, who helped him lie down on a stretcher carried by two other paramedics. They gently carried Hannes over the beach. Per stayed by his side.

  “Has Bach admitted to anything?” asked Hannes.

  “Federsen’s interrogating him now. By the way, say what you will about our boss, but he seemed to be really worried about you.”

  Hannes shook his head. “Even if he was, it’ll pass. Besides, you’re the one who nabbed Bach, not me. How’d you do it?”

  “Didn’t take much. While you were practicing your high-dive routine, he was racing down the ladder. He was in such a panic that he wasn’t looking where he was going. All I had to do was point my gun at him, and he knew he had no chance.”

  Hannes was glad Bach was now in Federsen’s hands. Bach was probably sweating bullets. He closed his eyes and sank back into darkness. He had seen enough for one day.

  No serious injuries were discovered at the hospital. Hannes had suffered a concussion and a few bumps and bruises. He was prescribed painkillers and bed rest, which wouldn’t pose too much of a problem. They could wrap up the investigation now with the arrest of David Bach. But Per soon burst that bubble.

  “I spoke with Clarissa, and Bach vehemently denies having anything to do with the murders. He has no idea where Frank Meister’s hiding.”

  “Of course he denies it. We’ll have to back him into a corner.”

  “Probably. So far, he couldn’t give any credible alibis for the murders. But he did admit to the sculpture, the graffiti, the Devil in the mailbox, and the anonymous complaint, and incriminated his buddy Frank too. He denies slashing Beck’s tires, though.”

  “Have you checked the soles of his shoes?”

  “Yeah, of course. But they don’t match the ones found at the scene of Benjamin Lück’s murder or in the Grafs’ yard.”

  “Maybe he bought new shoes and ditched the others?”

  “He denies that.”

  “What about the other incidents? The phone calls, the robbery.”

  “He claims innocence.”

  “And Lück’s assault?”

  “He confessed to robbing the gas station. Nothing about assaulting Lück, though.”

  “Carlos di Santo was there during the assault and recognized him. We need to organize a lineup.”

  “Hopefully di Santo’s a credible witness.”

  “If he’s having a good day, it shouldn’t be a problem. Which reminds me, he wanted to meet with me tonight. Supposedly he has evidence. We should hear what he has to say.”

  “Didn’t the doctor tell you—”

  “It’s not like stopping by his place is a big deal. You can take me home afterward.”

  On the way to di Santo’s, they picked up Hannes�
��s prescription at the pharmacy, but the painkillers had yet to kick in as they sat in rush hour traffic.

  “What reason did Bach give for hiding?” Hannes asked. “He denies murdering anyone. If he’s telling the truth, why would he hide? He’d already been lying low when he attacked me with the crowbar. He only robbed the gas station after fleeing.”

  “He claims he was afraid because he already had a pretty long record. The minister from the church tipped him off that we were looking for him. He stayed with Meister for the first few days. That’s when he figured out his ex-girlfriend had sicced us on him,” Per explained.

  “So he’s not a total idiot.”

  “No, and evidently he has a short fuse. That’s why he was waiting for Rebecca outside New Way with the crowbar. He was afraid you recognized him as Rebecca’s ex and knew he needed to lie low. And when our colleagues called Frank Meister before visiting, he realized he needed to find another place to hide.”

  “So he remembered the factory where he worked.”

  “Exactly. He slept there at night and wandered the area during the day. He stole food because he was broke.”

  “Why didn’t he just stay at the factory?”

  “Fear of being caught. So he chose the lifeguard tower.”

  “And it was pure coincidence he’d chosen the night of Lück’s murder to relocate?”

  “He claims he saw us at the scene.”

  “So he was in the area?”

  “Yes, because he was afraid to stay in the factory during the day. While he was wandering around, he saw the dead body being taken away. At first, he slept outdoors and in barns until he discovered the tower. Pretty far-fetched.”