The sound of a motor could be heard in the distance. Reluctantly, Kalle again exposed himself to the wind and walked toward the black station wagon. He formulated another excuse for the problem with the last order to make it clear that it hadn’t been his fault.
The driver of the car didn’t get out; he rolled down the window and waved Kalle over. Kalle rolled his eyes; he thought his partner might as well know what he thought of this behavior. It’s important to operate from a position of strength, his father had told him again and again. It had taken him a long time to understand what he had meant by “operate,” and later he had realized his old man had been right about that. Although he had drunk most of the sense out of his head, he had uttered a useful sentiment. It was really too bad the old dodderer hadn’t lived long enough to see that today his son was driving a new E-Class Mercedes and maintaining a sixteen-year-old bedwarmer. Tatjana knew tricks that still would have turned on the old man.
“Good morning. What’s so urgent? I told you on the phone already that we were working on a replacement delivery.”
“By that you presumably meant this photographer. Don’t you think you need alternative sources of supply?”
“It’s not that simple. These special requests are kicking up too much dust. I know that you’re keeping the Lübeck cops off our backs. But your influence doesn’t seem to extend to Hamburg.” Because of the hat pulled down over his eyes, Kalle couldn’t make out his boss’s expression. But he didn’t seem to be enthused. “I haven’t heard what happened yet. The business with the explosion didn’t work out, but the girl should have had enough.”
“We’ll take care of the policewoman. Don’t worry about that. Who knows about you besides the photographer and the three idiots you hired yesterday?”
This didn’t sound good at all, but he was too important for his boss to just get rid of him. Nevertheless, it was a relief that he now had his boss’s license plate number and could use it to find out the man’s name. “No one. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything. In person. Then it will all work out fine.”
“I agree with you on that point. If one wants to make sure the ship stays on course, one shouldn’t hesitate to take the wheel.”
“I like that. My father . . .” The word stuck in Kalle’s throat when he suddenly saw shimmering black steel in front of him.
“I can’t accept three failures. The two boys and the policewoman.”
Kalle’s thoughts became hectic. He wanted to run, to throw himself to the side, but his body wouldn’t obey. Paralyzed by fear, he did not notice that a strand of spittle hung from his half-open mouth. He couldn’t produce a coherent sentence.
An intense white flash ended his panic. Uncomprehending, he stared at the sky above. No pain, but warm liquid ran over his face and trickled down the corner of his mouth. Maybe everything will still turn out all right, he thought while his vision blurred and blackness descended around him.
It was only after a delay that a voice, accompanied by a hammering melody, penetrated the sleepiness that held Sandra in a firm grip. She blinked and looked for her alarm clock, then realized it wasn’t there. The bedclothes were soft but smelled of an unfamiliar detergent. Then she remembered Daniel’s guest room when the nerve-racking voice and music returned. She had thought it a funny idea to connect calls from her police station with Wolfgang Petry’s “Hölle” refrain; it would have been better to have put that number on the blocked list. It wasn’t even eight o’clock, and it was much too early to have an objective, calm conversation with her boss. Wait. Stephan was her boss now. After a yawn, she accepted the call.
“Meinke.”
“And when exactly is the lady planning to appear today? I have two people out sick, and your shift started an hour ago. So get your charming little ass over here, sweetie pie.”
“I’ve asked you countless times to watch what you say to me. I have an appointment with Tannhäuser and have no idea how long that will take. After that I’ll come by to get my things. And before you issue your standard threat: you can write your evaluation, roll it up, set it on fire, and stick it up your ass. My new boss knows what he has in me, and your threat regarding the next evaluation—which once again would consist of lies—is worth nothing to anyone. It has not been a pleasure, Mr. Station Leader. Please do not call me again; I will not call you either. I promise.”
Satisfied, she listened to his loud gasps—the message had no doubt been received.
She yawned and hung up. It was very tempting to snuggle back into bed and go on sleeping. But curiosity made her get up. The wine on top of the whiskey had been too much; she felt as if she had been up for two straight nights. Maybe all the excitement was to blame, or better yet the horrible chloroform. The last thought appealed to her the most. She fished around for her jeans, which were on the floor next to the bed. But she could have saved herself the effort; the house was empty. Still yawning, she found a note on the kitchen table next to the Sig Sauer Daniel had lent her. “Be careful with the coffee machine. Extra strong really means extra strong. Take what you like. We’re swimming—badlantic. Pick me up, or wait for me, but don’t go too close to your apartment. See you. D.”
Not exactly a declaration of love, but what had she expected? Full of anticipation, she looked at the expensive coffee machine, a luxury she had often ogled but had never treated herself to. She could already imagine the grinder pulverizing the beans, but first she would take advantage of the peace and quiet and give the shower with the wall jets a proper test—and check the Web to see how much a Navy officer actually earned. The duplex half was practically new and damned big for one person, and the furnishings were first class. The television alone would have eaten two months of her former salary.
With a cup of coffee that delivered what the expensive machine promised, she stepped onto the balcony and enjoyed the view of her green surroundings. She took a few minutes to think in peace about the very different men she had encountered within the space of a few hours. Tom was obviously the most attractive of them and could have been a fashion model alongside Stephan. The thought made her snicker. Mark and Jake were only cold and abrasive at first; they could be very different. In the case of Dirk, the exact opposite was true. If up to now she had thought of him as good-humored and friendly and somehow harmless, she had to adjust her opinion. Evidently he could compete with the other men when it came to hardness. Lars’s comment was still in the back of her mind, and she had seen how intimidated her captors had been. And Daniel was . . . She liked his long hair, which was in urgent need of a good cut, the boyish grin, and the way he made her laugh. He wasn’t as good-looking as Tom but still looked sweet and at first glance very young, and he had a tendency to be authoritarian—she would have to break him of this. But nevertheless she trusted him and missed him already. It would be interesting to see where things went with them.
She sighed and abandoned her place in the morning sun. Sitting around inactive for two hours, without a computer or cell phone—hers had said farewell with a plaintive beep due to a dead battery—was unthinkable. So she’d make her way to the swimming complex.
She indecisively looked at the sign in the entrance area that announced that the sports pool would be closed until nine thirty. It had been years since she had been to this complex, but Daniel and his comrades weren’t likely to be swimming in the wave pool or the kiddie pool. Finally she showed her police identification to the lady at the cash register, whose white outfit was offset by pink fingernails and a matching hair band, and pointed to the sign. “Good morning. I was going to pick up my boyfriend, but I’m here too early. Can I go in? I assure you I haven’t hidden a swimsuit in my jeans.”
“If you take your shoes off before you enter the tiled area, it’s all right. Does your boyfriend also work for the police? We’ve been wondering for a while who we’ve been reserving the sports pool for.”
Sandra smiled, and the woman shook her head, causing her ponytail to whip back and forth.
“I didn’t think I was going to get an answer. And the jackpot’s up to nearly a hundred euros.”
“What jackpot?”
“Everyone’s put in some money, and the one who finds out who the boys are gets the entire pot.”
“Well, then it would be unfair if I gave it away.” With a wink, Sandra took the plastic chip she would need to get through the turnstile.
“Fifty-fifty,” the woman said with a laugh in her voice. Sandra shook her head. “Damn, then I’ll keep trying through accounting. If I find out who’s paying the bill, I’ve won. MEK? SEK? GSG 9?” she said and twisted her ponytail.
“Lord, you certainly have an active imagination,” Sandra said, deciding to give Daniel a tip regarding the accounting. If it specified US Navy, curious reporters might show up soon.
With her socks and shoes in hand, Sandra went through the changing area and hoped that the glass door would save her a trip through the showers. This turned out to be the case. She passed the children’s area, which was decorated with a ship-and-Captain-Bluebear figure, and the wave pool, which were both still empty. It was only in a pool behind a pane of glass that she saw a number of seniors in hip-deep water following the instructions of a pool attendant. The passage to the sports pool was blocked by two ladies and their cleaning cart. The attention of these ladies, who both appeared to be over fifty, was not focused on the floor that was supposed to be mopped but on what was going on in front of them, and Sandra couldn’t blame them. In separate lanes, three men were plowing through the water at breathtaking speed. With a murmured apology, she squeezed past the cart with the cleaning products and didn’t stop until she had almost run into a wet man’s chest. Her gaze rose, and she was at first inspected from a height of a good six and a half feet.
“If you’re not Doc’s little friend, you can give me your gun and tell me what you’re doing here.”
She was getting used to this tone, but it still surprised her that her gun—well, Daniel’s gun—had been noticed by the man despite the fact that it was hidden under her T-shirt and blazer. But for the time being she refrained from answering because one of the swimmers held on to the edge of the pool instead of turning around. Mark. “Little?” she answered with a smile. “Next to you I guess everyone seems little, even your boss. Do you have a name, too? Or should I call you Big Guy?”
Grinning broadly, he held out a hand, though paw would have been a more appropriate designation. “Fox is fine. James Huntington, if you want to be official.”
Sandra shook his hand. “I don’t. Sandra. Sandra Meinke.”
“That’s what I thought, Sandy.” The man must have had something wrong with his ears, but on the other hand, the shortening of her name, if pronounced with an American accent, appealed to her. “Pay attention. You’ll see something interesting in a moment.”
Mark, Jake, and a red-haired man Sandra didn’t know had reduced their speed on their way back and finally let themselves drift near the diving tower. After a shrill whistle from Mark, Fox pointed to the five-meter tower. Sandra took a step forward but was immediately stopped. “Don’t be afraid. He still has to make up for something, and he has volunteered for this crap. A nice gesture from your boyfriend—I hate this shit.”
Shit? That didn’t begin to describe the situation Daniel was in. Blindfolded, with his hands bound behind his back, he balanced on the diving board sixteen feet above the water. Without warning, Tom pushed him off. To his credit, he immediately followed Daniel by executing an elegant dive, but Sandra nevertheless held her breath. Daniel had only halfway managed to enter the water feetfirst; the impact must have hurt like hell. And how was he supposed to rise to the surface?
Other than her, everyone seemed relaxed. There was no sign of Tom or Daniel. Worried, she stepped closer to the edge of the pool and tried to see down. She jumped back when a shadow unexpectedly detached itself from the light blue, and Daniel appeared in front of her, snorting and spitting out water. He was immediately followed by Tom, who grinned with satisfaction. “New record, Danny Boy. Congratulations!” he said in English.
“You’re dead if you call me Danny one more time, Tommy. Good morning, Sandy. Are you out this early already?” Daniel switched effortlessly back and forth between English and German, while Sandra was unable to produce a coherent sentence and was waiting for her racing heart to slow down.
Fox smiled and explained the way the exercise went and its main purpose, which was to practice fighting panic and remaining calm. Still, Sandra was unable to understand how one was supposed to bring one’s hands in front of one’s body, free oneself from the bonds, and then also cover a significant distance underwater after a fall like that. In her eyes that was an insane achievement, but she understood from the faces of the men around her that speed was also a priority. Although she would have preferred to bombard him with further questions, she abstained. She would find out later how Daniel had managed to free his hands.
CHAPTER 12
Three hours later, Sandra was standing in the outer office of the chief of police and doubting her sanity. Had she just drunk an excellent cup of coffee in a thoroughly pleasant atmosphere? Had Tannhäuser actually listened attentively to her and then essentially given her and Daniel free rein during the investigation even if Sven was officially leading the investigation? Daniel as her partner? And the support of Dirk and Sven and the other SEALs? She figured she would wake up in a few minutes and find herself back at her old police station.
A light tap on her arm brought her out of her thoughts. Daniel looked amused; she heard a laugh in his voice. “Are you coming? Stephan’s starting to get impatient.”
“Sorry, I . . . How do you do that? You set that up yesterday when you were supposed to be talking to Jake about your vacation.”
“What’s so strange about that? Dirk and Sven have helped us as often as they could, and it’s only natural we should help them out, too. Of course, making it official with the ID card and everything is new, but it’s no big deal. I’ll get used to it. Sven and Dirk have enough other stuff on their desks, and no one’s as familiar with this case as you. As an involved party, Dirk has to be careful. It’s really a perfect fit.”
“But that still doesn’t tell me . . .”
Stephan sighed deeply and caused Sandra to pause. “If you don’t know why Doc’s doing this, I can’t help you. Can we get started? I still have an appointment with Raddatz.”
“The department head who’s responsible?”
“Exactly. Even if Sven and Dirk are going to be leading the investigation, and I am going to be responsible for human resources, I don’t want to circumvent him completely. Certainly, he’s already given us a crash course, but I want to know why no one followed up on your information and what he has on the assigned colleagues in Lübeck.”
“In accordance with the motto Trust no one?”
Instead of smiling as she had expected, Stephan remained serious. “Exactly for that reason. But please keep in mind that that does not apply to your superior. No solo action. You keep me, Dirk, and Sven posted, and before you arrest one of them for proceeding in an unconventional manner, talk to me first. Understood?”
The subtle reference to Mark caused Sandra to grimace before she quickly nodded.
On her way to the drug unit offices, Sandra thought about Stephan’s words. Unofficially, then, no distinction was made between Dirk and Sven, and it appeared not to be the first time that the two had been supported in their solo actions by Stephan’s people or had worked together with the SEALs. Her list of questions for Daniel was getting longer and longer; now she just needed an appropriate opportunity to ask him.
Instead of going directly into his office, Stephan pointed to the large office next door and smiled. “We’ll take care of the official round of introductions later; we need to see Kaspar now. He ought to be sitting with Kat and Lars.”
Kat, Lars, and a man in his forties who was bald and had the beginnings of a potbelly were sitting around a desk strewn wi
th papers. They had been engaged in deep conversation but sat up straight when Stephan came in.
“You know Kat and Lars. That only leaves Kaspar Schmelling, my assistant. He makes sure things run smoothly around here; without him we’d be screwed.”
Like Lars, Kaspar had stood up, and extended his hand to her. “Welcome to the team, Sandra. I’ve already heard about your unusual start. You’re really shaking the place up. Once you’ve solved your first case with your partner, we’ll sit down in peace and quiet and take care of the formalities. There’s some training you should go through and so on. And no doubt you know that from now on you can’t lock up your gun at the station but have to keep it at home and comply with certain conditions.” He held out an envelope. “Your new ID, and I still need an overview of the sites you’ve served and your training. It would be best if you . . .”
His eyes raised to the ceiling, Stephan held up a hand. “Stop, Kaspar. You’re completely right, but let her have a little time first. We’ll take care of all that stuff later. After the conference with Raddatz, the two have an appointment in Lübeck, and before that they have to make a stop at Sandra’s old station. Kat, Lars, you know Doc. If he needs additional support beyond Dirk and Sven, you’re it, and that also goes for our colleagues from the rest of the department. I’ll send around an e-mail to that effect later. I imagine it’s not necessary to mention that any instructions from him are to be followed as if they came from me. Apart from you three, the official word is that Daniel’s been assigned to us in a special case within the framework of legal and administrative assistance. You know who Daniel works for, but otherwise his employer is of no interest. Any questions?”
Nemesis: Innocence Sold Page 13