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

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The Northern Cross (A Baltic Sea Crime Novel Book 2) Page 26

by Hendrik Falkenberg


  Ludwig Obermann, the carpenter with the broken leg, was eliminated as a suspect in the death of Lück. When di Santo had been killed, his mother had been visiting and confirmed that he had spent the entire evening at home. On the other hand, as Clarissa pointed out, Obermann’s mother also belonged to the Church of the Creator. It was agreed that Obermann could only be considered an accessory. Clarissa and Marcel would question him again.

  “Well, that’s it for today.” Federsen was ready to go.

  “Wait,” said Hannes. “We still need to discuss who we suspect from New Way.”

  “You and your damn ideas,” Federsen snapped.

  “Who do you have in mind?” Lauer asked.

  “The Schweigers stand out. I find it hard to imagine them as murderers, but they do have surprisingly strong opinions.”

  “And that of course makes them immediately suspicious,” Federsen said sarcastically.

  “They didn’t agree with the behavior of some of the members. They also had contact with Meister—Mr. Schweiger has already admitted that.”

  Lauer nodded and assigned Per and Federsen to interview them again. Isabelle and Hannes would see the Grafs, then take a second look at the rest of the members. First, however, Hannes accompanied Federsen into the interrogation room to see the man who had nearly broken his neck.

  The switchblade Bach had used to threaten the gas station attendant had been examined for possible traces of Benjamin Lück’s DNA, but the analysis hadn’t yielded anything. According to Maria’s report, however, a knife like it could have been used to slice off the actor’s tongue.

  David Bach stared at his hands. It was the first time Hannes had seen him without being attacked. He was tall, muscular, and had an angular face. His eyes seemed cold, and his thin lips formed a straight line. His ears protruded from his head, and his short blond hair lacked any discernible style.

  Federsen slammed a folder on the table and settled into a chair. He leafed through the folder for show.

  “You already know my colleague,” Federsen said. “You nearly sent him to an early grave.”

  “He doesn’t look so bad,” Bach said. Hannes was surprised by his high-pitched voice.

  “I still have severe bruising and a concussion to thank you for,” Hannes said as he sat down.

  “Sorry,” Bach said sarcastically.

  “You should be,” said Federsen. “Otherwise, we’d be questioning you about six instead of five murders. You’re facing two additional counts for assaulting an officer. Maybe there’s even enough for attempted homicide. Let’s add it all up: five murders, one attempted homicide, robbery, several burglaries, assault, stalking, damage to property, and intimidation. Did I forget anything?”

  “Bicycle theft,” Hannes said and smirked.

  It was a rusty old bike that Bach had taken. Despite an intensive search, no other bike thefts had come to light. Nor had any scooters or cars been stolen in the area, so it was looking increasingly unlikely that Bach was responsible for di Santo’s death. There was no way he could have covered the distance on foot in such a short time.

  “We’re hot on your buddy’s heels too,” Federsen said. “He’s in Finland.”

  The news surprised Bach. “What’s he doing there?”

  “Probably trying to evade us, but he won’t have much luck. I’d advise you to put it all out on the table. Never know if there might be extenuating circumstances. If your friend comes clean first, he’ll have the upper hand, and you’ll be sitting in shit.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone. I’ve already confessed to the other things, but I didn’t kill anyone. I’ve got no idea why you keep assuming that.”

  “Because you’ve got a strong motive and no alibi,” said Hannes. “You’ve threatened multiple people at New Way—”

  “I did not. Sure, they annoyed us. They looked down on us, made fun of us. We’re religious nuts to them. We wanted a little payback.”

  “Aha,” Federsen said. “So you admit you wanted revenge.”

  “Nothing big—just create a stir. Distribute leaflets, then that picture of the Devil. We didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “That’s debatable. After all, Mr. Beck could have lost his livelihood because of your complaint. Property damage is no small matter either, not to mention the assaults.”

  “Yeah, it got a little out of hand. The complaint was Frank’s idea. I wouldn’t know how to engineer something like that. But honestly, I have nothing against this group. I’m not as religious as Frank. I feel welcome at the Church of the Creator, that’s all. But I was annoyed by the way those people treated us. That’s why I helped.”

  “Oh, so you just helped. Who else helped?”

  “It was just Frank and me. He said we should teach them a lesson. It was harmless.”

  “What you intended to do with the crowbar was far from harmless,” Hannes said. “You attacked me. And had I not been there, you probably would have attacked your ex-girlfriend.”

  “I just wanted to scare her. Frank thought she was the one behind it.”

  “Behind what?”

  “That she was the one who tipped you off about me. I didn’t want to get in any more trouble with the police. So we thought we could intimidate her.”

  “Let’s move on to the murder victims,” Federsen said. “Alexander Kramer once defended Rebecca Köhler from you, and his sister and Sylvia Böhm helped him. This past spring, you assaulted Benjamin Lück because he—”

  “I already told you that’s not true. I never assaulted him, and who’s Sylvia Böhm?”

  “Mrs. Böhm owned a horse farm,” Hannes said. “But you put an early end to that.”

  “She was the one who was murdered?” Bach looked at Hannes and smiled mockingly. “She was always hanging around with that porn star. I get it now.”

  “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Federsen asked.

  “I often saw her. Her husband is friends with Frank’s sister—I’ve met him a couple times. He’s even considering joining us.”

  There was a reassignment of duties shortly thereafter. Hannes and Federsen headed to the horse farm. Questioning Matthias Böhm became the highest priority, especially since Per had more news. He had called Thomas Beck to find out more about the relationship between Sylvia Böhm and Carlos di Santo. As far as the chaplain knew, the two hadn’t been friends. He did, however, recall a conversation in which she told him she had joined because of di Santo. She had accidentally rear-ended him two years ago, and the Argentinian had suffered severe whiplash. She had felt guilty and had contacted him afterward. At some point the topic of New Way came up, and he had convinced her to attend a meeting.

  Matthias Böhm denied any connection to the Church of the Creator at first. It was only when Hannes informed him that Frank Meister’s sister was being interrogated that he conceded.

  “It’s a private matter, but yes, I know Ursula. We used to work at the same company.”

  “Why have you been keeping this a secret?”

  “Because I didn’t want to give the wrong impression. I am—I mean, I was—married. Ursula and I are friends. We’ve been getting together a little more often now because I’ve needed someone to talk to.”

  “You get along so well that you’re toying with the idea of joining the Church of the Creator?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you get along with Ms. Meister’s brother as much as you do with her?” Hannes asked.

  “Frank? We rarely see each other. I don’t know him well, but he seems to be a decent guy.”

  “There’s evidence to the contrary,” Federsen said. “We’re looking for him because of his possible involvement in several murders. He might be your wife’s killer. Unfortunately, he’s run off to Finland.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Frank didn’t kill my wife. Why would he?”

  “You tell me. You know him.”

  “I know him well enough to realize your guess is nonsense.”

  Wh
en he learned that Meister had been a nuisance to New Way, he cleared his throat.

  “It’s understandable why he feels provoked by them. I used to listen to my wife make fun of the people at the church. She used to be a believer too, and I have no idea what this group did to her. She totally changed after joining.”

  “And why did she join?”

  “Because we were going through a rough patch. She probably wanted to feel connected to a community.”

  “How did she hear about New Way?” Hannes asked.

  “What does it matter?”

  “Does the name Carlos di Santo mean anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “He died two days ago. He was a founding member of New Way and used to handle their finances. Your wife accidentally rear-ended him about two years ago.”

  “I remember that. She was driving alone.”

  “He introduced your wife to New Way. Didn’t you know that?”

  “No. She felt unnecessarily guilty about that guy. She’d call him sometimes and meet with him.” He looked at his watch. “I have some buyers coming soon, and I’ve almost reached an agreement with the tax office. Then this whole nightmare will be over.”

  Federsen nodded. “That’s it for today. But your nightmare may be far from over. We’re keeping an eye on you.”

  The team reconvened at the end of the day. There was no news from Finland, and Frank Meister hadn’t used his credit card again. Hannes and Federsen gave a summary of their conversation with Matthias Böhm, which was then followed by an update from Isabelle and Per. They had paid a visit to the Grafs. Since restoration on their house continued to drag on, they were still living in a hotel. They had acknowledged that they were critical of some of the group members, just like the Schweigers, but they had also claimed that they would never drum someone out of the group. Carlos di Santo was a special case because he had apparently embezzled money. The Grafs also kept their distance from members of the Church of the Creator.

  “We went over their alibis, murder for murder,” Isabelle said. “They were somewhat taken aback, but we told them it was routine.”

  “What kind of alibis did they have?” Steffen Lauer asked.

  “Nothing verifiable for the death of Alexander Kramer. But they had a meeting with their insurance agent at the time of Mrs. Böhm’s death, which we’ve already confirmed. As for Antje Kramer, it’s hard to pinpoint the time. We have no idea when the poisonous mushrooms were added to her stash. When Mr. Lück died, they were allegedly in their hotel room, and on the night of di Santo’s death, they attended the symphony with friends, then went out to eat and headed back to the hotel around midnight. Their friends and a waiter confirmed this.”

  “So we can rule them out,” Federsen said.

  Hannes said, “As informants or accessories, yes. Besides, I had my eye more on the Schweigers. How did they react?”

  “Outraged is probably the best way to put it,” Clarissa said. “They supposedly contacted Meister in an attempt at mediation. They have alibis for every murder with one exception: Mr. Schweiger can’t prove his whereabouts on the night di Santo died. He attended choir practice with his wife that evening, but then they split up. She went home to take over for the babysitter around ten. He says he had a headache and walked home alone. According to his wife, he arrived home around eleven. There are no other witnesses.”

  “Not very convincing,” said Lauer.

  Clarissa and Marcel had also conducted two interrogations. Although Ludwig Obermann wasn’t a prime suspect, there was the question of his involvement as an accomplice. But he had clearly distanced himself from Bach and Meister once Clarissa started peppering him with questions.

  “He claims he only wanted to defuse the situation in the summer and knows nothing about the other incidents. He didn’t use the word ‘fanatic,’ but it was clear he considers Meister one. He described Bach as a hothead looking for recognition. He admitted that he could picture the two carrying out the attacks on New Way. And that was before we even told him about Bach’s confession. He said he could have gotten involved, but had little desire.”

  “Was he credible?” asked Lauer.

  “Yes,” Marcel said. “He’s very religious, but not fanatical. A little simple-minded, but good-natured. Just because he’s a carpenter doesn’t mean he made the cross.”

  “What did you learn from Meister’s sister?”

  “She corroborated Mr. Böhm’s claim that they were just friends. Ursula Meister is as religious as her brother and would never get involved with a married man. Now that he’s a widower, that could change. She’s thirty-seven and—like her brother—was brought up very religious. She has a close relationship with him.”

  “But not so close she knows what he’s been up to in Finland,” Clarissa added. “His last vacation was in January, and she suggested he felt burned out. His trip might have been a snap decision.”

  Per shook his head. “If he’s burned out, why would he visit Finland? It’s dark nearly all day now and freezing cold. Wouldn’t you head somewhere warm and sunny?”

  “It’s a pretty lame explanation. She wants to protect him and stated several times he wasn’t capable of such acts. She said Bach is a liar and wants to pin the blame on her brother. She had always thought her brother shouldn’t have gotten involved with him.”

  “Perhaps the perfect scapegoat,” said Hannes. “Let’s say Bach’s telling the truth. He did a few stupid things, which Meister had put him up to. Maybe Meister’s been the one behind the real crimes, but has been able to direct our suspicions onto Bach. He’s fanatical and clever. He might have been using Bach from the start.”

  “Meister’s sister would see it differently,” said Clarissa. “In her opinion, Bach was a bad influence on her brother. But in attempting to portray her brother as innocent, she’s maybe overshot her target.”

  “How so?”

  “She talked about how well he got along with Mr. Böhm. When she told her brother about Mr. Böhm’s problems, he offered to help. The two of them would often hang out and talk. Matthias Böhm seems to have downplayed his relationship with Frank Meister.”

  CHAPTER 24

  With the last days of November came the first weekend of Advent. The sun shined warmly on Hannes. He yawned and turned over. Anna had tangled herself in the blanket. She faced him, her breathing deep.

  Hannes had his boating-license test at ten o’clock. He stretched, remaining cautious as he arched his back. The pain had died down, and the pressure in his head had subsided so much that he decided against a painkiller.

  After his shower, he walked out onto his little balcony. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the temperature was almost in the fifties. The air felt unseasonably crisp. He took a deep breath and felt sorry his colleagues had to spend the weekend interviewing more witnesses.

  He returned to the bedroom with a hot cup of coffee. Anna hadn’t moved. He leaned over and fanned some of the coffee’s steam toward her. He smiled as the aroma caused her nose to twitch. A moment later, her eyes opened. Anna stretched, then sat up and gratefully took the cup from Hannes.

  “The sun’s finally out again. What time is it?”

  “A little after eight thirty. Breakfast is already on the table. I have to go in half an hour, so I can get to the port on time.”

  “It’s a shame your test is today. Otherwise, we could take advantage of this great weather.”

  “I’m glad, because the sea will be calm today. Hopefully, the good weather will last through the afternoon for the second part of the test.”

  Anna looked at him longingly and stroked his arm. “I look forward to having a skipper for a boyfriend,” she said and smiled. “Maybe we could walk on the beach in the afternoon? We said we’d meet everyone else at the Christmas market at seven tonight.”

  “That’d be great,” Hannes said. “I’ll call you after the written test. If I screw it up, I won’t be going out on the water in the afternoon.”


  “You’ll do fine. You can thank that guy for kicking you off the lifeguard tower. At least it meant you could cram on Thursday. Now give me a kiss.”

  On his way to the port, Hannes went over the test once more in his head. He could be given one of fifteen possible tests, each one consisting of thirty questions. On top of that, there was a nine-part navigation problem. That was the section he feared most, even if Ole had gone over everything there was to know about navigation.

  Hannes fumbled in the glove compartment for his sunglasses, then his phone rang.

  “Per and I are on our way to the horse farm,” Clarissa said.

  “I’m sure Mr. Böhm will be happy to see you,” said Hannes.

  “That’s his problem. He owes us a few explanations. I’m sure there’s a reason why he downplayed his connection to Meister.”

  “Do we know anything more about that?”

  “No. And we haven’t heard anything from Meister’s credit card company either. He could be anywhere in Finland. He might have crossed into Norway or Sweden. We’ve alerted our colleagues there.”

  “At least he can’t enter Russia. He’d be picked up at the border immediately.”

  “Right. And he can’t take a ferry either—we’ve contacted all the ferry lines. But that really doesn’t help, because Scandinavia’s huge. Anyway, I’ll call you later.”

  Twenty-four questions into the test, everything was going fine. Question twenty-five, however, threw him for a loop. Hannes chewed on his pen. “What does a sector light signify?” The answers all sounded right. He circled “Alter course when entering white sector.” He quickly answered the remaining four questions and continued on to the navigation problem.

  He nervously read the question and turned to the sea chart. He had twenty minutes. “A pleasure craft is traveling from Helgoland to Cuxhaven. The speed over ground is 10 knots. At 11:00 a.m., the craft passes the light buoy Helgoland-O, which is located 1.2 nautical miles south of Helgoland.”

 

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