by Nele Neuhaus
“Tell me what it’s about,” Hanna said. “I’m not afraid of hot-button topics. And I never say no to a good story.”
Thursday, June 24, 2010
The team meetings at K-11 took place in the usual room on the second floor; the ready room behind the watch room had been cleared out a few days before and returned to its original purpose.
Two weeks after the discovery of the girl’s body in the river, they were no closer to solving the case, despite a great deal of effort. The officers in the Mermaid Special Commission had followed up on countless tips and interviewed dozens of people, but nothing had panned out. No one knew the dead girl; no one missed her. An isotopic analysis had shown that the girl had grown up in the vicinity of Orsha, in Belarus, but had spent the last years of her short life in the Rhine-Main area. Even the male DNA that had been secured from under her fingernails and had given them a brief glimmer of hope had brought them no further, because it could not be found in any database.
All ships that had passed along the Main River within the relevant period had been located and inspected, although the police had been forced to restrict themselves to the vessels that had radar or had been registered at the locks. They had even checked the restaurant ships that were anchored in Frankfurt, as well as the tour boats. But there was nothing they could do about all the private sport boats that zipped about on the Main. The options for putting a body directly into the river from a bridge or even from the riverbank were so numerous that it would have required a colossal expenditure of personnel and technical efforts, with little hope of measurable results.
The media, craving results and some progress in the case, accused the police of acting blindly and wasting the taxpayers’ money.
“Unfortunately, even the cooperation with our colleagues in Minsk has not brought us any further,” Oliver von Bodenstein said as he took stock, feeling frustrated. “There is no missing person’s report in Belarus that matches the description of the deceased. A flyer campaign in the region of Orsha has also produced no results so far.”
Neither the girl’s clothes nor the fabric remnants from her stomach had produced any concrete leads in the investigation.
Bodenstein gazed at the silent team. The tension of being constantly in the public eye, along with two weeks of constant work with no weekends off, had taken their toll. He saw exhaustion and resignation in the faces of his colleagues, and he had the greatest sympathy for their state of mind, because he felt exactly the same way. He had seldom experienced a case in which there was so little to go on.
“I propose that you all go home and get some rest,” he said. “Stay in touch, though, in case something does come up.”
There was a knock on the door, and Dr. Nicola Engel came in. At the same moment, Ostermann’s laptop emitted a discreet trill.
“We received permission,” announced the commissioner. “Bodenstein, next week you’ll be going to Munich. Our Mermaid case will be featured on Germany’s Most Wanted. In any event, it’s worth a try.”
Bodenstein nodded. He had already discussed it with Pia. Unfortunately, summer vacation started tomorrow in the state of Hessen, and many people would be gone, but the TV show was one last chance for the police to get some helpful information from the public.
“Hey, people,” said Kai Ostermann. “I just got an e-mail from the lab in Wiesbaden. They’ve finally analyzed the water from the girl’s lungs.”
The fact that the girl had drowned in chlorinated water was one of the biggest riddles in this case. Bodenstein wasn’t the sort to rely heavily on lab results, but he’d insisted on an analysis of the water. He harbored the almost despairing hope for some kind of helpful lead.
“And?” he asked impatiently. “What did they find?”
Ostermann scanned the report.
“Sodium hypochlorite, sodium hydroxide,” he read aloud. “Those are the chemical components of chlorine tablets for swimming pools and Jacuzzis. Traces of aluminum sulfate were also found. Unfortunately, nothing that would give us a genuine lead. So I’m afraid we’re still looking for the needle in the haystack.”
“She didn’t drown in a public swimming pool. Somebody would have noticed,” said Kathrin Fachinger. “How about if we start an appeal in the press and ask people to call in if they have a pool on their property?”
“That’s crazy,” Pia countered. “In this region, there must be thousands of houses with swimming pools, and even more with Jacuzzis.”
“We’re not going to get a call from whoever owns the pool where the girl drowned,” said Kai.
“If we try to check out all the private swimming pools, we’ll have enough work to keep us busy for years,” added Cem Altunay, who had postponed his trip home to Turkey to see his wife and kids. “Do you want to make every pool owner submit to a water analysis?”
“Very funny,” Kathrin snapped in a huff. “I just wanted to point out that—”
“All right,” Bodenstein said, interrupting his young colleague. “This may not be a hot lead at the moment, but it could be a valuable piece of the puzzle once we have a specific suspect.”
“Are we just about done, then?” Pia glanced at her watch. “I’ve got a half day of vacation today.”
“Yes, that’s it for now,” said Bodenstein with a nod. “But please remain available just in case.”
Everyone nodded and the meeting broke up. Kai grabbed the investigation folder, tucked the laptop under his arm, and followed Cem and Kathrin down the hall.
“We have to get going, too,” said Dr. Engel.
Bodenstein turned around.
“Where to?” he asked, surprised.
“In my calendar, it says that today at two P.M. you’ve got the interview at State Criminal Police headquarters,” she replied. “Have you forgotten?”
“Damn it, yes.” Bodenstein shook his head. At six, he and Cosima had a meeting with the notary and the buyers of the house. They’d already moved the appointment to early evening because of the investigation. He hoped the stupid interview wouldn’t take any longer than an hour.
After the confrontation with Bodenstein ten days ago, Frank Behnke had shut down his provisional inquisition court in one of the neighboring offices and retreated empty-handed to the State Criminal Police. But two days later, an official summons had fluttered onto Bodenstein’s desk: Hearing to obtain testimony regarding the closing of the police investigation involving bodily injury to Mr. Friedhelm Döring on 7 September 2005, due to the suspicion that certain criminal offenses were not properly investigated and obstruction of justice on official duties occurred.
“Why do you want to go with me?” Bodenstein asked his boss as she followed him down the hall. “It has to be a total waste of your time.”
“I refuse to permit such an accusation to be made against one of my unit leaders,” she said. “Behnke is on a personal vendetta, and I intend to remind him of something, if necessary.”
* * *
“Hello there, Hanna.” Wolfgang got up from his desk and came over to her with a smile. “How lovely to see you.”
“Hello, Wolfgang.” She allowed him to kiss her on both cheeks. “Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.”
“Well, you’ve got me really curious,” he said, offering her a seat at the conference table. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No thanks.” Hanna hung her bag over the back of her chair and rubbed her palms on her bare upper arms. “Well, maybe a mulled wine.”
In the big office, a dim twilight prevailed, and the air conditioning produced a chill that made her shiver.
“It must be a shock for you to go outside. It’s ninety-five degrees out there.”
“By the time I leave the office, it’s eleven at night. Then it’s no longer so hot.” Wolfgang smiled and sat down across from her. “I haven’t heard from you in a long time.”
There was a gentle reproach in his voice, and Hanna felt instantly guilty.
“I know I haven’t
been much of a friend lately, but there’s a reason for it.” She lowered her voice. “By chance, I’ve run into a crazy story. A real doozy. But it’s so incredible that first I had to check out some of the details with a couple of people. I swear to you, it could be really big. And I’d prefer to lead off with this topic in the first show after the summer hiatus; then we could hype it big-time in the weeks leading up to it. Half of Germany will be sitting in front of the tube at nine-thirty sharp.”
“You’re all aglow with enthusiasm,” Wolfgang said. He cocked his head and smiled. “Is there more behind this than what you’re telling me?”
“Nonsense!” Hanna uttered a brief laugh, which even to her sounded a bit too phony. Wolfgang knew her well; she kept forgetting that. “But I’ve never had my hooks into such a gigantic story. And I’ve got an absolute exclusive.”
She had masterfully resolved the crisis that Norman had instigated with his thoughtless blabbing. Her public display of remorse had turned around what had threatened to destroy her image. The TV station and the shareholders had been satisfied; they’d found a capable new producer and decided to move on, putting aside what had happened. After three days, her car had emerged like new from the paint shop, and she wasn’t surprised when Meike informed her that for the rest of her vacation she’d be moving to Sachsenhausen to stay at the apartment of a girlfriend who was spending the summer in Chile or China. Everything that had seemed so incredibly important to her earlier was now of no consequence. Since that evening in her therapist’s kitchen, something had changed, and she could hardly grasp what it was.
“The topic is absolutely sensational. The person involved wants to remain anonymous, of course, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” She pulled a couple of sheets of paper out of her bag and held them out to Wolfgang. As he reached to take them, she pulled her hand back. “It’s top secret, Wolfgang. I trust that you won’t mention this to a soul.”
“Of course not,” he assured her, acting a bit offended. “I’ve never betrayed anything you’ve told me in confidence.”
She handed him the four single-spaced pages, and he began to read.
She had a hard time curbing her impatience.
Read faster, she thought. Say something, will you?
But he remained silent, his face expressionless. The only visible sign of emotion was a furrow at the bridge of his nose that got deeper the longer he read.
Hanna had to stop herself from slamming the palm of her hand on the table.
Finally, he looked up.
“Well?” she asked expectantly. “Didn’t I tell you? This story is pure dynamite! The human tragedy behind it is of apocalyptic proportions! And there are no suspicious circumstances involved; I’ve spoken personally with most of those affected. They gave me names, places, dates, facts. As you can imagine, at first I could hardly believe it. With a big PR campaign, this story is going to produce ratings like we haven’t seen in years.”
Wolfgang still said nothing. Eloquence wasn’t his strong point. Sometimes it took him minutes to formulate a request into awkward wording, and she often felt stupid because she talked so fast and said so much. She would interrupt him and race ten thoughts ahead before he’d answered the original question.
“Hanna, I don’t want to rain on your parade, but if you ask me, the topic is actually rather … banal. It’s been covered in the press ad nauseam,” he finally said after an enervating pause. “Do you really believe that anyone would still be interested?”
Her sense of eager anticipation collapsed like a house of cards when she saw the skepticism in his eyes. She was hugely disappointed, but she was also angry—at him, but, above all, at herself. Once more she’d been overhasty, too enthusiastic.
“Yes, I do. I also think that this particular topic can’t be discussed often enough in the public arena.” She reached out her hand and tried to make her voice sound calm. “I’m sorry that I’ve wasted your valuable time.”
He hesitated, made no move to hand her the pages; instead, he placed them on the desktop and arranged them into a neat stack.
“Ultimately, it’s your decision what topics you want to deal with on your show.” Wolfgang smiled. “But you wanted my advice, so I’m giving it to you.” He turned serious. “Don’t do it.”
“Excuse me?” She thought she hadn’t heard him correctly. What did he have in mind?
He lowered his eyes, but she had noticed the emphatic way he had voiced his objection. Furrows of tension appeared between his eyebrows. What was prompting such a strong reaction?
“As your friend, I advise you not to run this story,” he said in a lowered voice. “It’s an explosive issue. You have no idea what you’re getting into. I have a bad feeling about it. If what it says here is true, then people are involved who will not welcome publicity of this kind.”
“Are you worried about the station’s reputation?” Hanna asked. “Are you afraid of lawsuits? Or what is it?”
“No,” he replied. “I’m worried about you. You’re not judging the situation correctly.”
“We’ve been dealing with hot potatoes for years,” Hanna countered. “It’s the hallmark of my show.”
They gazed at each other for a long time in silence, until he gave up with a sigh.
“You’re going to do what you want to do; I know that.” He reached out his hand and put it on top of hers. “I’m only asking you to think it through one more time.”
She really liked Wolfgang. He was her oldest and dearest friend. She knew his strengths, but she also knew his weaknesses. Wolfgang was a number guy; he was rational, dependable, and cautious. But it was precisely these good qualities that kept getting in his way, because on the flip side he was also an indecisive vacillator, a cowardly bean counter who simply lacked the courage to take a risk.
“Okay.” Hanna nodded and gave him a forced smile. “I’ll do that. Thanks for your advice.”
* * *
The Main-Taunus shopping center was swarming with shoppers. It took Pia a long time to find a spot in the parking garage.
“So what are we shopping for?” Lilly asked, gamboling along beside her.
“I have to pick up my shoes at the shoe repair,” said Pia. “But first you and I have to find something to wear tonight.”
“What’s happening tonight?”
“I told you already.” Pia took Lilly’s hand so she wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. “Miriam’s grandmother is having a party, and we’re going to it.”
“Is Grandpa coming, too?”
“No, he’s in Düsseldorf today.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.”
“You mean you don’t like my company?” said Pia with a grin.
“Oh, of course I do,” Lilly declared. “But I like it best when we’re all together.”
Pia stroked the girl’s hair. Sometimes Lilly could drive her nuts with her constant chatter, but her disarming honesty was always so touching. She was actually going to miss the girl when she flew back to Australia in two weeks.
“Could we buy a DVD, too?” Lilly begged as they walked by the Media Mart. Pia cast a quick glance in the shop window at the crush of people and shook her head.
“First we have to get the important stuff done.”
All week long, she’d told herself to drive to the mall and look for a summer dress, but when she got home late in the evening, she never felt like dealing with the crowds. She’d found a nice dress on the Web, but of course it wouldn’t be available in her size until the first days of fall. By then, she’d no longer need a summer dress.
“Oh, look, ice cream!” Lilly pointed excitedly at the ice-cream stand and tugged on Pia’s hand. “I’d really like to have an ice-cream cone. It’s so hot.”
“They won’t let us into the department stores with ice cream.” Pia ushered her past. “Later.”
Before they reached the shop where Pia hoped to find a dress, Lilly had spied five things that she absolutely had to have.
Pia was getting fe
d up.
“I’m not going to take you shopping ever again if you keep trying to make detours,” she said firmly. “First we’re going to buy the clothes, and then we’ll look at other things.”
“You’re no fun,” said Lilly with a pout.
“Neither are you,” said Pia, unmoved.
Whether that was pedagogically correct or not, she had no idea, but it worked. The little girl shut up.
In the first store, Pia found nothing she liked. In the second, she narrowed it down to two dresses, but neither of them fit right, and they looked as baggy as overalls on her. This didn’t help Pia’s mood. She hated trying on clothes in the cramped changing rooms in this heat, and it didn’t help to see her sweaty reflection in the mercilessly harsh fluorescent light. Maybe somebody should give the department store owners a tip: Dim lights in the changing rooms would surely increase sales. In the third store, she finally found something suitable. She told Lilly to wait outside, but as soon as she was down to slip and bra and putting on the dress, Lilly stuck her head in.
“Is it going to take long? I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.
“I’m almost done. You’re going to have to hold it awhile.”
“How long?”
“Five minutes.”
“But I can’t hold it that long,” the girl whined.
Pia didn’t answer. Sweat was running down her face and back, and she couldn’t zip up the back of the dress.
“You’re too fat,” said Lilly.
That did it.
“Get out!” Pia yelled. “Wait outside like I told you. I’ll be right there.”
The little witch stuck out her tongue and then pulled open the curtain all the way to make her even madder. Two narrow-hipped young gazelles in size zero tops stared at Pia and giggled idiotically.
In her mind, Pia cursed Miriam’s grandmother for having a stupid charity party, and she cursed herself for agreeing to drive to Frankfurt. The sight of the dress calmed her down a bit. It fit well and she looked good. It wasn’t even that expensive.