by Nele Neuhaus
“Yes,” Tobias said in surprise. “Why do you ask?”
“There’s a picture,” said Amelie. “Actually several of them. I’ve seen them, and I think Lauterbach is in three of them.”
Tobias gave her a look that was both interested and puzzled.
“So, I think there’s somebody who witnessed what really happened back then,” Amelie added after a brief pause. “Thies gave me pictures that…”
She fell silent. A car was coming up the narrow road at high speed, a silver station wagon. The gravel crunched under the wide tires when the Porsche Cayenne stopped right in front of them. A beautiful blonde climbed out. Amelie jumped up and shouldered her backpack.
“Wait!” Tobias stretched out his arm to her imploringly and stood up with a pained expression. “What kind of pictures? What’s going on with Thies? Nadia is my best friend. You can tell her too.”
“No, I’d rather not.” Amelie gave the woman a skeptical look. She was very slim and made an elegant impression with her tight jeans, the turtleneck sweater, and the beige down vest with the prominent logo of an expensive designer label. Her smooth blond hair was pulled back in a knot, and she had a concerned look on her elegantly proportioned face.
“Hello!” the woman called, coming closer. She scrutinized Amelie briefly, giving her a suspicious look, then turned her undivided attention to Tobias.
“Oh my God, sweetheart!” She put her hand softly on his cheek. At the sight of this intimate gesture Amelie felt a pang in her heart, and she took an immediate dislike to Nadia.
“I’ll see you later,” she said curtly and left them to each other.
* * *
For the second time today Pia had taken a seat at a kitchen table and politely turned down a cup of coffee. Then she had informed Hartmut Sartorius about Manfred Wagner’s confession and arrest.
“How’s your ex-wife doing?” she asked.
“Her condition is unchanged,” said Sartorius. “The doctors just give me the runaround and refuse to say anything definite.”
Pia studied the gaunt, exhausted face of Tobias’s father. The man hadn’t suffered any less than the Wagners—on the contrary. While the parents of the victim were shown sympathy and solidarity, the parents of the perpetrator had been ostracized and punished for the actions of their son. The silence turned uncomfortable. Pia didn’t really know why she’d come. What was she actually looking for here?
“So are people pretty much leaving you and your son alone?” she asked at last. Hartmut Sartorius emitted a curt, bitter laugh. He opened a drawer and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, which he handed to Pia.
“This was in the mailbox today. Tobias threw it out, but I retrieved it from the garbage can.”
You murdering bastards, Pia read. Get out of here before another accident happens.
“A threatening letter,” she said. “Anonymous?”
“Of course.” Sartorius shrugged and sat back down at the table. “Yesterday they attacked him in the barn and beat him up.” His voice faltered and he had to fight for control as tears shone in his eyes.
“Who?” Pia wanted to know.
“All of them.” Sartorius made a helpless gesture. “They were wearing masks and had baseball bats. When I … when I found Tobias in the barn … I thought at first he was … he was dead.”
He bit his lip and lowered his eyes.
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“It wouldn’t do any good. This is never going to stop.” The man shook his head with a mixture of resignation and despair. “Tobias is doing his best to get the farm back in shape and hopes we can find a buyer.”
“Mr. Sartorius.” Pia was still holding the letter. “I’ve read all the documents in your son’s case. And I noticed some inconsistencies. Actually it amazes me that Tobias’s lawyer didn’t file an appeal.”
“He wanted to, but the court refused to consider any appeal. The circumstantial evidence, the eyewitnesses—there was no room for any doubt.” Sartorius rubbed his hand over his face. Everything about him radiated discouragement.
“But now Laura’s remains have been found,” Pia insisted. “And I’ve been asking myself how your son could possibly have gotten the dead girl out of the house and into the trunk of his car, taken her to Eschborn to the restricted site of a former military airfield and thrown her into an old underground tank, and then driven back here, all in under forty-five minutes.”
Sartorius raised his head and looked at her. A tiny spark of hope gleamed in his watery blue eyes, but it vanished just as quickly.
“It won’t do any good. There’s no new evidence. And even if there was, to the people here he’s a murderer and that’s what he’ll always be.”
“Maybe your son should leave Altenhain for a while,” Pia suggested. “At least until after the girl is buried, when feelings here have died down a bit.”
“Where is he supposed to go? We don’t have any money. Tobias won’t be able to find a job any time soon. Who’s going to hire an ex-con, even if he has a diploma?”
“He could move into his mother’s apartment temporarily,” Pia suggested, but Sartorius only shook his head.
“Tobias is thirty years old,” he said. “I know you mean well, but I can’t order him to do anything.”
* * *
“I just had a déjà-vu moment when I saw the two of you sitting on the bench.” Nadia shook her head. Tobias had sat back down and was cautiously feeling his nose. The memory of his fear of death from last night had settled like a dark shadow over the sunny day. When the men finally stopped beating him and disappeared, he had silently said good-bye to life. If one of them hadn’t come back to take the rag out of his mouth he would have suffocated. They had really been serious about it. Tobias shuddered at the thought of how close to death he had come. The injuries he had suffered were painful and looked dramatic, sure, but they weren’t life-threatening. His father had called Dr. Lauterbach last night and she came over at once to patch him up. She had taped closed the cut on his eyebrow and left some painkillers for him. She didn’t seem to hold it against him that he had dragged her husband into the whole mess in 1997.
“Don’t you think so?” Nadia’s voice interrupted his train of thought.
“What did you say?” he asked. She was so beautiful and looked so anxious. She was actually expected on the set in Hamburg, but apparently he was more important. After he called she must have left at once. That was the sign of a true friend.
“I was just saying how strange it is for that girl to look so much like Stefanie. Unbelievable!” said Nadia and took his hand. She caressed the balls of his thumbs, a tender touch that under other circumstances might have pleased him. But right now it didn’t.
“Yes, Amelie really is incredible,” he replied thoughtfully. “Incredibly brave and fearless.”
He thought about how she had recovered so quickly from the attack in the barnyard. Any other girl would have dissolved in tears and run home or to the police, but not Amelie. What was it she’d wanted to tell him? What had Thies said to her?
“Do you like her?” Nadia wanted to know. If he hadn’t been so deep in his thoughts, he might have some other, more diplomatic response.
“Yes,” he said. “I like her. She’s so … different.”
“Different from whom? Me?”
Then Tobias looked up. He met her scandalized gaze and wanted to smile, but the smile turned into a grimace.
“Different from the people here, I meant.” He squeezed her hand. “Amelie is only seventeen. She’s like a little sister.”
“All right, then be careful that you don’t turn little sister’s head with those blue eyes of yours.” Nadia pulled her hand away and crossed her legs. She looked at him with her head cocked. “I don’t think you have the slightest idea what sort of effect you have on women, do you?”
Her words reminded him of his younger days. How come he’d never noticed that Nadia’s critical remarks about other girls had always
hidden a spark of jealousy?
“Aw, come on now,” he said with a dismissive gesture. “Amelie works at the Black Horse and overheard something there. For one thing, she recognized Manfred Wagner in the photo the police made public. He was the one who shoved my mother off the bridge.”
“What?”
“Yes, he did. And she also thinks that Pietsch, Richter, and Dombrowski were the ones who beat me up last night. They showed up unusually late for their card game.”
Nadia stared at him incredulously. “You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Amelie is also firmly convinced that somebody saw something back then that might exonerate me. Just as you drove up she was about to tell me something about Thies, about Lauterbach, and about some pictures.”
“That would be … that would be really incredible!” Nadia jumped up and took a few steps toward her car. She turned around and gave Tobias an outraged look. “But why didn’t that person ever say anything?”
“Yeah, if I only knew.” Tobias leaned back and tentatively stretched out his legs. Every movement of his battered body hurt, in spite of the painkillers. “In any case, Amelie must have found out something. Stefanie once told me that she’d gotten it on with Lauterbach. You remember him, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Nadia nodded, staring at him.
“At first I thought she was just saying that to make herself seem important, but then I saw the two of them together behind the tent, at the fair. That’s the reason I made a beeline for home. I was…” He broke off, searching for the right words to describe the tumult of emotions that had been running wild inside him. It would have been impossible to slip a piece of paper between them, they were standing so close, and Lauterbach had his hand on her ass. The abrupt realization that Stefanie was messing around with other men had thrown him into a churning maelstrom.
“… furious,” Nadia finished his sentence.
“No,” Tobias countered. “I was not furious. I was … hurt and sad. I really did love Stefanie.”
“Just imagine if that piece of information got out.” Nadia gave a soft and slightly nasty laugh. “What do you think the headlines would say? Our cultural minister the child molester!”
“So you think they had a real relationship?”
Nadia stopped laughing. In her eyes he saw a peculiar expression that he couldn’t interpret. She shrugged.
“I would have believed it of him, at any rate. He was crazy about his Snow White. He even gave her the leading role although she had almost no talent. Whenever she came around the corner his tongue would be hanging out of his mouth.”
Suddenly they were in the midst of the topic they had avoided so assiduously until now. At the time Tobias hadn’t been surprised that Stefanie got the leading role in the Christmas pageant put on by the drama club. In terms of appearance she was perfect for the role of Snow White. He had vivid memories of the evening when that first occurred to him. Stefanie had climbed into his car, wearing a white summer dress and red lipstick, her dark hair blowing in the wind as they drove. White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony—she had said those words herself and then laughed. Where did they drive to that night? All of a sudden he knew, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. There it was again, the thought that had been nagging at him for days. Do you guys remember how my sister stole my old man’s key ring and we raced around inside the old airplane hangar? That’s what Jörg had said on Thursday night in the garage. Of course he remembered! That evening they had headed over there, and Stefanie had dared him to drive faster because they were alone in the car. Jörg’s father, Karl-Heinz Richter, had been at the telephone exchange, and in the seventies and eighties he had worked on the grounds of the old military airfield. As kids he, Jörg, and the others had been allowed to go with him and play at the deserted site. Later, when they were older, they had organized secret car races and parties. And now Laura’s skeleton had been found at that very location. Could it be a coincidence?
* * *
He stood before her as if he’d shot up out of the ground, just as she had turned around again to take a last look at Tobias and this blond bitch driving that luxury ride.
“Jeez, Thies!” Amelie gasped in shock, surreptitiously wiping the tears from her cheek. “Do you have to scare me like that, damn it?”
Sometimes it was really spooky the way Thies could just appear and vanish without making a sound. Only now did she notice that he looked sick. His eyes were sunk deep in their sockets and had a feverish gleam to them. He was trembling all over, with his arms wrapped tight around his upper body. The thought shot through her mind that he really looked like a crazy person. Then she felt ashamed for thinking such a thing.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you feel good?” she asked.
He didn’t react, just looked around nervously. His breathing was fast and irregular, as if he’d been running. Suddenly he uncrossed his arms and grabbed Amelie’s hand, much to her surprise. He had never done that before. She knew that he didn’t like being touched.
“I couldn’t protect Snow White,” he said in a hoarse, tense voice. “But I’ll take better care of you.”
His eyes shifted restlessly, and he kept looking toward the edge of the woods as if he expected some sort of danger to emerge from that direction. Amelie shuddered. All at once the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
“You saw what happened, didn’t you?” she whispered. Thies turned abruptly and pulled her along with him, holding her hand tight. Amelie stumbled after him through a muddy ditch and thick undergrowth. When they reached the protection of the woods, Thies slowed down a bit, but he was still walking too fast for Amelie, who smoked too much and never exercised. He held her hand in an iron grip; when she stumbled and fell he would immediately pull her to her feet. They were climbing a hill. Dry branches crackled under their feet, magpies scolded from the tops of the fir trees. Without warning he stopped. Amelie looked around, panting and through the trees she spied the bright-red roof tiles of the Terlinden villa a little ways down the slope. Sweat ran down her face and she coughed. Why had Thies taken her around the entire perimeter of the property? The road through the park would have been far less trouble. He let go of her hand and began fiddling with a rusty, narrow gate, which opened with a reluctant screech. Amelie followed him through the gate and saw that she was now right behind the orangerie. Thies wanted to grab her hand again, but she pulled away.
“Why are you running all over the place like a madman?” She tried to quell the uneasiness that suddenly filled her, but there was something definitely wrong with Thies. The almost lethargic calm that he usually displayed had vanished, and when he looked at her now, straight in the eye and without averting his gaze, his expression scared her.
“If you promise not to tell anybody,” he said softly, “I’ll show you my secret. Come on!”
He opened the door to the orangerie with the key that was under the doormat. She deliberated briefly whether to simply walk away. But Thies was her friend, he trusted her. So she decided to trust him too, and followed him into the room that she knew so well. He closed the door softly and looked around.
“Could you please tell me what’s going on?” Amelie asked. “Has something happened?”
Thies didn’t answer. At the back of the large room he moved a big potted palm aside and picked up the board on which it had stood, propping it against the wall. Amelie stepped forward with curiosity and looked in amazement at a trap door set into the floor. Thies opened the hatch and turned to her. “Come on,” he urged her.
Amelie stepped onto the steep, rusty iron stairs that led down into the darkness. Thies closed the trap door above them, and a second later a faint lightbulb went on. He squeezed past her and opened a massive iron door. A flood of warm dry air rushed toward them, and Amelie was flabbergasted when she entered a large cellar room. A bright carpet, walls painted a happy orange. A shelf full of books on one side, a comfortable-looking sofa on the other. The back half of the room was separated off wi
th a folding screen. Amelie’s heart was in her throat. Thies had never given any indication that he wanted anything from her, and even now she didn’t think he would pounce on her and try to rape her. Anyway, in an emergency it was only a few steps to the stairs and then out into the park.
“Come on,” Thies said again. He pushed the screen aside, and Amelie saw an old-fashioned bed with a high wooden headboard. On the wall photographs were hung neatly in rows and columns, as was Thies’s habit.
“Come over here. I’ve told Snow White so much about you.”
She moved closer, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. With a mixture of horror and fascination she looked into the face of a mummy.
* * *
“What is it?” Nadia squatted down in front of him, putting her hand gently on his thigh, but he pushed her away impatiently and stood up. He hobbled forward a few yards and then stopped. What he was thinking was monstrous!
“Laura’s body lay in an underground tank on the grounds of the old military airfield in Eschborn,” said Tobias in a hoarse voice. “You must remember how we used to have parties out there. Because Jörg’s father had the key to the gate.”
“What do you mean?” Nadia came after him and looked at him blankly.
“It wasn’t me who threw Laura in that tank,” Tobias replied vehemently, grinding his teeth. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.” He balled up his hands into fists. “I want to know what really happened! My parents were ruined, I sat in prison for ten years, and then Laura’s father pushes my mother off a bridge! I can’t stand it anymore!” he yelled, as Nadia stood mutely in front of him.
“Come stay with me, Tobi. Please.”
“No!” he snapped. “Don’t you get it? That’s exactly what they wanted to achieve, those assholes!”
“Yesterday all they did was beat you up. What if they come back and they’re serious this time?”
“Kill me, you mean?” Tobias looked at Nadia. Her lower lip was trembling slightly, her big green eyes were swimming in tears. Nadia didn’t deserve to be yelled at. She was the only one who had stood by him all this time. She would have even visited him in prison, but he hadn’t wanted her to. Suddenly his fury subsided and he felt only guilt.