by Nele Neuhaus
Why hadn’t she noticed how skillfully Chief State Attorney Frey had manipulated and duped her? Why had she fallen for it? Gradually, it had dawned on her what she had done. Stupidly naïve, she had told him about Rothemund going to Amsterdam, and reported each step of their investigative work to him—all because he’d been so friendly to Lilly.
Lilly! Good God! Pia flinched, as if somebody had poured scalding water on her. The threatening e-mail that she’d gotten this morning must have come from Frey. He naturally assumed that Lilly was her daughter, because she’d never mentioned Christoph to him.
“K-9 team, medics,” Bodenstein’s voice penetrated her consciousness. “In one hour, we’ll meet in Höchst. Surround the building and seal it off. Kai, inform the traffic police and our colleagues in Frankfurt.”
“Pia?” Rüdiger Dreyer, the detective on duty from the swing shift, stuck his head in the door.
Pia looked up.
“Yes, what is it?”
“We just got an emergency call,” her colleague said, and came closer. His worried expression set off all the alarm bells in Pia’s head. “Something has happened at Birkenhof.”
“Oh God, no!” Pia whispered, putting her hands over her mouth. Not Lilly! If anything had happened to the girl, she was the only one to blame. It was deathly quiet in the big room. Everyone was looking at Pia. She took out her cell. Twenty-three calls missed, five texts, all from Hans Georg, mostly variations on CALL ME BACK RIGHT AWAY. IT’S URGENT. And she’d thought he wanted to tell her something about the hay harvest.
“Come on,” said Christian Kröger, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll drive you there.”
Yes, thanks, Pia wanted to say, but then she noticed her colleagues scrutinizing her. She couldn’t show any weakness, not in a situation like this, when every officer was needed. She was the chief detective inspector and had to act professionally. She couldn’t run around like a chicken with her head cut off. Under no circumstances should her private life take precedence over the apprehension of a dangerous criminal—especially someone that she herself had supplied with crucial information.
“Thanks, I can manage on my own,” she said in a firm voice, and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll see you later at Höchst.”
* * *
“You are definitely not driving over there by yourself.” Christian caught up with her in the parking lot and took the car keys out of her hand. “Don’t argue! I’m driving you.”
Pia nodded mutely. She was shaking all over with fear and worry. If she had to face a disciplinary hearing because she’d given the state attorney too much information, then that was a fair punishment for her stupidity. But she would never forgive herself if something had happened to Lilly and she was to blame.
Kröger unlocked her car and opened the passenger door for her. Pia turned to him.
“It’s all my fault,” she whispered.
“What’s your fault?” He nudged her gently into the car, then reached over and fastened her seat belt as if she were a child.
“I gave Frey too much information. Why in the world did I do that?”
“Because he was the state attorney on the case,” Kröger said. “If you hadn’t told him, he would have found out everything from the files.”
“No, that’s not true,” Pia said, shaking her head. “I told him that Kilian Rothemund was on his way to Amsterdam. Then Frey must have activated his connections in Holland.”
Kröger got in, started the engine, and backed out of the parking spot.
“Pia,” he said. “You did nothing wrong. You couldn’t have known what sort of game Frey was playing. If a state attorney asks me for information, I give it to him.”
“You’re just saying that now.” Pia sighed. “When Frey showed up to watch the search of Rothemund’s trailer, you didn’t tell him everything you knew. His excessive interest in the case should have warned me something was fishy.”
She stopped talking. Kröger drove up the Strawberry Mile, paying no attention to the speed limit, heading for the autobahn.
“Turn left and take the dirt road; it’s faster,” said Pia before they reached the bridge. He braked, signaled, and turned sharp left across the oncoming lane. A driver flashed his brights and honked.
“If Erik Lessing had to die because he’d found out from Bernd Prinzler about this pedophile Mafia,” said Kröger after a while, “then I have to ask myself what Engel knew at the time. And what she knows today. What if she has something to do with it?”
“I don’t dare think about that,” replied Pia in a gloomy voice. “At any rate, Bodenstein had no idea what the whole thing was about back then. And Frank didn’t know, either. If we don’t root out all the men behind it, then Kilian Rothemund will be in danger for the rest of his life, along with his kids.”
Kröger slowed down to cross the farm road that led from Zeilsheim to the B519 toward Kelkheim. On the other side, he followed the paved road that ran parallel to the A66 autobahn. Dusk was already falling, and yet there were still many skaters and joggers on the road who couldn’t hear their car coming because of the noise from the autobahn, so they didn’t move out of the way. Kröger was impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and Pia could see the tension in his face. He was just as worried as she was. A few minutes later, they reached Birkenhof. In front of the gate stood Hans Georg’s green tractor and two patrol cars with blue lights flashing. A medic’s vehicle and an ambulance were parked under the walnut tree in the courtyard. Pia’s blood froze in her veins at the sight. Until now, she’d been worried about Lilly and hadn’t even thought that something might have happened to Christoph.
In the backlight of the setting sun, she saw something dark lying on the gravel drive between the paddocks and the riding area. Kröger saw it, too, and slammed on the brakes so hard that the gravel sprayed from the tires. Pia jumped out of the car before it even came to a stop.
“Oh my God!”
All strength drained from her body, and she felt sick. Tears filled her eyes.
“What is it?” Kröger asked behind her, and then he saw for himself. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her away, preventing her from looking any longer. The dead dog lay in a big pool of blood, and not five yards away lay a second dog’s body.
“Pia!”
A big gray-haired man in green overalls came hurrying toward her. It was Hans Georg, but she saw him through a haze. The sight of the two dogs that had been shot made her fear the worst. The anxiety inside her had turned to panic, overwhelming her.
“Where’s Christoph? What happened here?” she yelled shrilly. She tried to pull out of Kröger’s grasp, but he held her tight and led her onto the grass strip so she wouldn’t have to step over the dead dogs.
“I tried to call you a zillion times,” said the farmer, but Pia wasn’t listening.
“Where are Christoph and Lilly? Where are they?” she shrieked hysterically, pushing against Kröger’s chest. He let her go.
“In the house,” said Hans Georg, but he sounded stressed. “Wait, Pia!”
She ducked around him as he stepped into her path and tried to stop her. Like a condemned criminal on her way to the scaffold, filled with dread, she headed for the front door with a fixed expression. Fears she had long thought repressed surged up inside her, and her heart was pounding so hard that it hurt. She was wet with sweat yet freezing at the same time.
“Ms. Kirchhoff!” A uniformed officer came out of the house. She didn’t react as she stared at the puddle of blood on the steps, and the blood on the wall and door. Was she now going to encounter the nightmare of all police officers who find their loved ones dead?
“Come with me,” said her colleague. Christian Kröger was right behind her. Her house was full of total strangers. In the kitchen, she saw the reddish orange vests of the EMTs, open medical kits, tubes, cables, clothing smeared with blood. And in the middle of the floor lay Christoph in his underpants, with the electrodes of an EKG stuck to his
chest.
“Your wife is here now,” she heard someone say, and they made room for her. Christoph was alive! Pia felt faint with relief. She squeezed past the others and knelt down next to him, cautiously touching his shoulder. He had a laceration on his head, which had already been treated by a medic.
“What happened?” she whispered. “Where’s Lilly?”
Christoph opened his eyes, giving her a dazed look.
“Pia,” he murmured. “He took her. He … he was standing by the gate and … and he waved. Lilly … she said she knew him … from the zoo and … and from visiting Miriam’s grandmother. I … I didn’t think anything of it … so I opened the gate.…”
Pia’s heart skipped a couple of beats. Of course Lilly knew Chief State Attorney Frey. She took Christoph’s hand.
“Lilly ran up to him … and suddenly he had a gun in his hand. He shoved her into his car; then the dogs went after him … and he … shot them.” He broke off and briefly closed his eyes. He was breathing hard.
“I saw them.” Pia was fighting back tears. “What about you?”
“I … I took off after him. He tried to shoot at me, but … but the clip must have been empty. And then … then Hans Georg was there all of a sudden.…”
“Concussion,” the EMT interjected. “He took at least three blows to the head. We’re taking him to the hospital.”
Pia heard Kröger on the phone, talking in a low voice about Lilly and Frey.
“I want to go to the hospital with you,” she said to Christoph, stroking his cheek. He grabbed her hand.
“No,” he implored her desperately. “You have to find Lilly. Please, Pia, promise me you’ll find her. Nothing must happen to her.”
He was as worried as she was about the little girl. In order to protect Lilly, he had gone after an armed man who had shot her dogs, showing that he would shoot without hesitation. If the clip hadn’t been empty, then Frey might have shot Christoph, too.
Pia leaned over him and kissed his cheek.
“I not only promise that I’ll find her,” she said gruffly. “I swear I will.”
* * *
“I’m going with you to Höchst,” she announced as the ambulance drove off. “I’m just going to change real quick.”
She was still wearing her summer dress and the sling-back heels that she’d put on that morning to attend the birthday reception. It seemed like ages ago.
“I’ll take the other two dogs back to my place; they can sit beside me on the tractor,” said Hans Georg. “And I’ll see to the horses.”
“Thank you.” Pia nodded to him, then ran up the stairs. In the bedroom, she tore off her dress, slipped into a T-shirt and jeans, and took her service weapon out of the safe in the wardrobe. With trembling fingers, she strapped on her shoulder holster and stuck in the P30. Socks, running shoes, a gray hoodie—she was already feeling more like herself.
Five minutes later, she got in the car with Christian.
“Are you okay?” he asked as they drove through Unterliederbach.
“Yes,” replied Pia curtly. Her fear had been transformed to cold rage. Just as they stopped on Kasinostrasse at a barricade, her cell rang. A crowd of onlookers had shown up, eager for a break from the monotony of their daily lives. The police could never make people understand how dangerous a situation could be, so the cordon had to block off as wide an area as possible.
“We’re here,” said Pia to Bodenstein. “Where are you?”
She showed her ID to the officer manning the cordon, and he moved the barricade a little to the side to let them drive in.
“On the street, right in front of the Palais,” her boss replied. “The SAU stormed the building and we were able to apprehend a few of the Sonnenkinder people just as they were trying to escape with some children.”
“What about Lilly?” Pia asked. Kröger had already told Bodenstein that Lilly was in Frey’s hands.
“We’re still searching for the entrance to the catacombs. Frey must be here. His car is parked out front.”
Pia and Kröger ran across the Bolongarostrasse, which was deserted in the glow of the streetlights. No cars, no bicyclists, and no pedestrians were allowed inside the blocked-off zone. In the distance, a tram rattled by; otherwise, it was very quiet. Bodenstein, Kathrin, and Cem were waiting in the courtyard of the Palais Ettringhausen, which was right next to the Bolongaro Palace. With them were the squad leaders of the SAU and the SWAT team, and the courtyard was teeming with police. Solemn, shocked expressions were evident everywhere. Nobody was cracking jokes. In the glare of a searchlight, they saw a dark blue VW bus with the Sonnenkinder logo on the side.
“Is Corinna Wiesner here?” Pia asked.
“No,” Bodenstein said, shaking his head. She could see what a toll the tension of the past few hours had taken on him. He had dark rings under his eyes, and a bluish shadow covered his cheeks and chin. “They must be down in the cellar. We apprehended two women who were about to drive off with six kids inside the vehicle.”
“How many people are still down there?” Pia asked.
“According to the two women, only the Wiesners and Frey,” Bodenstein replied. “And four more children.”
“And Lilly,” Pia added gloomily. “That shithead knocked out Christoph and shot my dogs. If I get hold of him, I’m—”
“You’re staying up here, Pia,” Bodenstein said, interrupting her. “The SAU has taken over the operation.”
“No,” Pia objected vehemently. “I’m going down there to bring Lilly out. And I swear to you, I’m not taking any prisoners.”
Bodenstein grimaced.
“You will do nothing,” he said. “Not in this state of mind.”
Pia fell silent. There was no point in arguing with Bodenstein. She’d have to wait for the right opportunity.
“Is that the blueprint of the cellar?” She nodded toward a car, where she could see a building plan spread out on the hood; it showed all the rooms in the cellar.
“Yes. But you’re not going down there,” Bodenstein repeated.
“Understood.” Pia studied the plan, which a colleague illuminated with his pocket flashlight. She was twitching with impatience. Somewhere down there was Lilly, in the hands of a maniac, and they were just standing here babbling.
“We’ve got officers covering all the exits. Not even a mouse could get out unseen,” the team leader of the SAU explained.
“The whole place belongs to Finkbeiner Holding,” Bodenstein told Pia. “This is their headquarters. The tenants also include tax consultants and a legal firm. On the ground floor, there are two doctors’ offices and a municipal agency dealing with young people. The perfect camouflage.”
Two ambulances quietly rolled into the courtyard to take the children who were still in the VW bus to the hospital.
“That’s why these upper-crust pedophiles can come and go even in broad daylight without anyone noticing,” said Cem. The radio in Bodenstein’s hand crackled and hissed. The hundred men from the SWAT team had already cleared the area all the way down to the Nidda River.
Pia took that moment while Bodenstein wasn’t looking to dash across the courtyard and slip into the Palais through the main entrance. Two colleagues from the SAU wanted to stop her, but after she told them to go to hell, they reluctantly showed her the way to an unobtrusive wooden door underneath the curving flight of stairs. It opened into a room where cleaning supplies and equipment, toilet paper, and other items were stored, but another door inside led down to the catacombs.
“I knew you wouldn’t listen to me,” said Bodenstein behind her. He sounded out of breath. “That was an order, not a request.”
“Then turn me in for disciplinary action. I don’t care.” Pia drew her weapon. Christian and Cem had also joined them and were now following her down the worn steps. The corridor at the bottom was so narrow that their shoulders almost touched the concrete walls on either side. Every few yards, a neon light provided dim illumination. Pia shuddered. What must t
he children have felt when they were brought here and led along this corridor? Had they screamed and struggled, or had they resigned themselves to their cruel fate? How could a child’s soul ever cope with this?
There was a sharp turn and then they ascended a couple of short flights of stairs, whereupon the corridor became wider and higher. It smelled musty and damp. Pia suppressed any thought of how many tons of earth were above her head.
“Let me go first,” Christian whispered behind her.
“No.” Pia marched on with determination. Every cell in her body was so full to the brim with adrenaline that she no longer felt a thing, neither fear nor anger. How often had men slunk along this passageway, driven by their disgusting obsession? How perverse and sick must a grown man be, especially someone who might even have children himself, to do violence to a child in order to quell his lust?
Suddenly, Pia heard voices, and she stopped so abruptly that Bodenstein ran into her.
“They’re up ahead,” Pia whispered.
“You stay here and let us do this,” Bodenstein ordered her in a low voice. “If you follow us, it will have serious consequences.”
Bla, bla, bla, thought Pia, and nodded. She let her boss, Cem, and Christian go past her, then waited thirty seconds before she followed them into a long, low room, and what she saw there took her breath away. Many years ago, she’d been on a raid of a Frankfurt S and M club that had looked similar, except that the members of the club were adults and satisfied their strange desires of their own free will. This place was specifically designed for the abuse of children. This was where Oksana, the Mermaid, had been tormented and tortured. At the sight of the rack, the chains, the handcuffs, the cages, and the other horrendous implements, Pia felt all the horror and fear that had eaten into the concrete walls like acid.
“Hands up!” Pia heard Bodenstein shout, making her flinch. “Get over by the wall! Go, go!”
Under different conditions, Pia would have stayed back, as her boss had ordered her to do. But right now, she had to keep going. Her worry about Lilly was greater than any sense of reason. She stepped through the doorway and entered another big room, in which there were barred cells to the left and right. Her gaze swept over a group of four children, not much older than eight or nine, who stood lethargically in front of one of the cells without moving. Christian and Cem had their weapons aimed at a man and a woman, and Pia recognized the dark-haired woman who that morning had attempted to pull Renate Finkbeiner away from her wounded husband. So that was Corinna Wiesner, the woman who had pretended to be Oksana’s mother. But where was Frey?