Nemesis: Innocence Sold

by Ross, Stefanie

  “Can we leave now? Or are you two going to keep at it . . .” Sven raised an eyebrow.

  With a nasty grin, Dirk picked up where his partner had left off and started whistling a skewed version of the title theme from Love Story.

  “Et tu, Brute?” Daniel said, feigning offense as he executed a death-defying climb into the rear seat. “I should have taken one of the Daimlers this morning,” he said to himself, earning a mocking look from Dirk.

  “Don’t exaggerate. After all, I moved the child seat to the trunk just so you two could sit there, and even Fox survived sitting back there.”

  After taking a quick look in the rearview mirror, Dirk entered the flowing traffic, but Daniel noticed he was watching the traffic behind them considerably more than normal. Before he could ask about it, Sven held out his cell phone to Sandra. “Do me a favor and call Matthias. It’s driving me crazy. He’s not going to believe everything’s all right until he hears from you, and he calls every five minutes.”

  Daniel followed the call with amusement. After having reassured Matthias, she enjoyed letting her former colleague get himself worked up, and he sensed why.

  “I’m staying with my boyfriend for now. That’s easier for us, anyway.”

  Daniel answered Sandra’s apologetic look with a slight tilt of his head.

  “Why don’t you know him, and why have I never mentioned him?” Sandra said. “Well, what was it you said recently: Once in a while you hear something from Rawlins? I’d say that was more than a slight deviation from the whole truth—I bet you’ve met Mark a number of times at Dirk’s or Sven’s or Stephan’s place. There are certain things a person doesn’t speak openly about.” Sandra had to bite her lip to remain serious. “Did you just choke on something?” she asked with concern before she started snorting with laughter.

  Daniel’s sympathy for the bearded policeman, whom he liked and valued, won out. He took the phone from Sandra. “Matthias? Doc here. Until now, I didn’t know Sandra had such a mean streak. She’s living with me for the time being, and we’re working together. Does that put you at ease?”

  There was silence for a moment, then a sound like that of a package being torn open. “That’s a surprise,” Matthias finally said, chewing, and Daniel sensed the conflict Matthias found himself in.

  “Don’t worry. I’m serious about it.”

  “You had better be, my boy” came the answer, as though fired from a pistol, before he continued more calmly. “I mean . . .”

  “That’s all right. I understand what you mean, but you should really know me better than that.”

  “You mean you’re not one of those sunburned Navy soldiers with a girl in every port?”

  “No. Hamburg’s enough for me. Now put away your cookies, and eat some decent food for a change.”

  Daniel could still hear something that sounded like an unfriendly farewell, and then he saw Sandra’s distrustful look.

  “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing. He seemed to think all this is nothing but a nice distraction for me, but I was able to straighten him out about that.”

  Once again Daniel noticed Dirk’s skeptical look in the mirror, but although he had probably caught the meaning of the ambiguous words, he said nothing. When it counted, they manifested an iron solidarity, including—or rather particularly—against their women.

  Dirk slowed down in front of a green light, made a risky maneuver to change lanes, and turned toward the city center.

  Sven clung to the grab handle. “Shit. I wish I hadn’t sent you to that driver training course,” he said.

  Puzzled, Sandra leaned forward. “Why’d you do that? We need to go in the other direction to get to Lübeck. It’d be much faster if you got on the A1 in Bergedorf.” Then she answered the question herself. “Or is someone following us?”

  Sven nodded. “Two cars, more like. Dirk?”

  “Burgundy Opel, at least two occupants, and dark green 5 Series BMW with tinted windows. It seems as if we were supposed to notice the Opel while the BMW stayed on us. Backup?”

  After a brief silence, Sven shook his head. “Other than endless paperwork, nothing would come of that. There are enough of us. We’ll grab one of them and make him talk.”

  “As you like, partner. Autobahn parking lot or industrial area, Daniel?” asked Dirk.

  “Autobahn. That will save us time.”

  Dirk grinned at Daniel in the mirror. “My thoughts exactly. There’s one a few miles beyond the east junction. A lot of nice trees for cover—that should work.”

  “The main thing is that nobody gets in our way,” said Daniel. “By the way, what’d you get from the three guys Tom and I put to sleep yesterday?”

  “Not much, unfortunately. Supposedly, the three of them were out walking when they were attacked by a group of teens. They spoke of at least six. Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to prove that they had committed a criminal act, despite the fact that all three have impressive police records. Generally aggravated assault and such things. One is going to prison due to illegal weapon possession and violation of probation. Neither our colleagues nor the custodial judge liked the switchblade.”

  “So the great unknown hired them,” Sandra said.

  Sven nodded. “And employed a middleman or two. If I consider the number of guys that are after you—someone is damned serious and has plenty of money and contacts.”

  Daniel tilted his head to the side and tried unsuccessfully to see their pursuers in the side mirror. “I’m wondering whether they’re interested in deterrence or information.”

  Sandra rolled her eyes. “All right, we’re taking on up to eight men, backup’s only for wimps. I’ve got all that, but what do you mean now?”

  “Whether they want to put you out of commission or just find out who you’re working with,” Dirk said. “My guess is you know more than you realize, or there’s something on your computer that would help us. As far as I’m concerned, nothing else would justify the expense and effort involved in following us now.”

  Sven nodded in agreement while he leaned back and adjusted the side mirror so he could keep an eye on the traffic behind them. Dirk raised an eyebrow. “You’re aware that I can’t see anything but asphalt now?”

  The partners exchanged grim grins; for them everything had been said. For Sandra, on the other hand, a number of questions lingered; she chewed on her lower lip and played with the buckle of her seat belt.

  Daniel sought a more comfortable position for his legs; finally he leaned back with his eyes half-closed. He had to admit that there were less comfortable vehicles than Dirk’s A6.

  “Wouldn’t it be safer for you if we weren’t seen together anymore?” Sandra asked.

  Even Dirk’s head twisted around in surprise before he concentrated again on the traffic.

  With a nod, Daniel indicated that he would leave it up to Sven.

  “You must be crazy. If someone takes on one of us, he’s going to have to take on all of us. And if you were worried about us, I’d have to interpret that as doubt regarding our abilities, and that would mean trouble. But for you.”

  Daniel sensed Sandra’s questioning look and smiled. “You heard him—now relax. After all, you’re the only one of us dragging around two cannons. And? Which one do you like better?”

  “Your Sig fits my hand better, but I’ve practiced more with the Walther.”

  While they drove the remaining miles, a heated discussion took place between Dirk and Daniel, who both preferred the Sig, and Sven, a staunch fan of the Walther. It wasn’t until they had reached the east junction, where the A1 and the A24 met, that Dirk changed the subject. “Another three minutes.”

  Daniel surveyed the parking lot, where only a few vehicles were parked, near the toilets. The adjacent forested area was ideal for their purposes. Dirk stopped the Audi as far as possible from the other cars and directly in front of the trees, which led to thicker undergrowth after a few yards.

  “Doc?” asked Di
rk with the Sig in his hand. After checking it carefully, he put it back into the holster.

  Daniel looked over the terrain one more time; then his plan was ready. “You draw their attention. Like someone who doesn’t feel like using the toilets over there. If we’re lucky, two of them will stick with you. Sandra stretches her legs, walking in the opposite direction. I cover you; Sven secures the rear.” Inconspicuously, he watched Sandra, but he found in her expression only concentration—no anxiety, no fear.

  Dirk didn’t let the rearview mirror out of his sight. “The Opel stopped a good fifty yards behind us; the BMW’s over by the toilets. I hope they don’t just sit there and wait for us to drive on—in that case we’ll have a problem.”

  “We’ll worry about that if we need to. Go now,” said Daniel.

  Dirk rolled his eyes and followed the order; Daniel had provoked this on purpose—he knew too well that Dirk was allergic to commands of any kind.

  Daniel followed Sandra directly and then took cover behind some trees. Cursing, he noted that Dirk’s fear had been partially realized. Although three men had gotten out of the Opel, they seemed primarily interested in Dirk and Sven and ignored Sandra. Two of them followed Dirk; one, leaning on his vehicle, kept his eye on Sven, who for his part had assumed the same position and didn’t let the Opel or the BMW out of his sight. With a low whistle, Daniel drew Sandra’s attention and grinned when she obviously had to look carefully before discovering him. Casually, she sauntered closer, not looking in his direction. “And?” she whispered.

  He noted her professional behavior with approval. It wouldn’t occur to any observer that they were not traveling without companions. “Go back to the car. If they take on Sven, he may have problems.”

  She nodded inconspicuously and returned to the Audi. In apparent boredom, she leaned against the driver’s side door; thus she and Sven had a view of the men and had the Audi for cover. Once again he praised her to himself; she had significantly better skills than a simple policewoman and damned good instincts. He didn’t understand why poor self-confidence showed through again and again. She had no reason for that, and it would be a pleasure for him to convince her of it. But this was the wrong time for thinking about such things; right now he needed to find out where Dirk was.

  He worked his way through the undergrowth and discovered the two perplexed men wandering among the trees.

  The older one, whose clearly visible wrinkles betrayed that he was already over forty and was considerably calmer and behaved with greater self-control than the other, finally stopped. “He couldn’t have vanished into thin air.”

  “Are you sure you know him?” The younger man might have been in his midtwenties and appeared to be in good shape; he looked like a weight lifter who did no cardio, because his forehead was already beaded with sweat. His light-blond hair contrasted sharply with his brown skin, which was probably the result of lying out in the sun.

  “Fairly—the resemblance is striking, in any case.” Irritated, the older man flicked a small twig out of his hair. “Well, it makes no sense to creep around here any longer. I’d like to find out whether my suspicion is justified but not like this—we’ll find out another way. Let’s go back to the car.”

  In contrast to Daniel, the men hadn’t noticed that Dirk had approached them from the rear. “Not so fast.”

  Shocked, the two men spun around. The hand of the younger man went to his belt. Dirk kicked the man in his solar plexus. The man’s breath left him with a hissing sound, and he fell to the ground. Instead of drawing his gun as expected, Dirk, unimpressed, turned to the second man, who had watched it all, frozen. “Shall we talk or continue like this? You pick.”

  “How long has it been? Four years? I thought I’d been mistaken. When did you exchange your laptop for this?” The man spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

  “Some things have changed since our last encounter, Michael. But please leave the questions to me. Since when has following police officers been part of your job description? Being charged with obstruction of justice will cost you your license, and it’s damned difficult for me to believe you’re working for someone who earns his money by abusing children. I hope your sons are well,” Dirk added with biting sarcasm.

  After a moment of shock, Michael furrowed his brow. “You always get straight to the point, don’t you? Thank you for asking: my sons are well, and my daughter, too, by the way—she’ll be two next month.” The man Dirk had knocked to the ground struggled up again. As he stared at Dirk in rage, the wrinkles in Michael’s forehead became deeper. “Don’t even get upset, Marius. It was completely idiotic of you to reach for your gun without knowing who you were dealing with, much less being threatened yourself. Wait for me by the car?”

  “Do you seriously think I’m going to leave you alone with this guy? Abuse of children? He’s crazy. Weinreich would never get involved with something like that,” the younger man said.

  At the mention of the name, Michael sighed. “First off, it’d be better for you to hold your tongue, and second, the plural would be correct. There are two of them; that shouldn’t have escaped you, either. I want to talk to him, but alone. Now leave before it occurs to Dirk to revoke your gun permit—I wouldn’t blame him.”

  Daniel waited until the man had left in obvious anger; then he abandoned his cover. “Private detective?” he asked.

  “American?” Michael answered before he turned back to Dirk. “Who are you working for, Dirk? Hardly for the regular police.”

  “Pretty regular,” Dirk said and handed over his LKA identification.

  A quick glance was enough for Michael. “That’s a surprise—or perhaps not. You weren’t exactly a dried-out accountant back then, either, but I would never have thought you would use your kung fu against me or my men.”

  Dirk’s snort became a quiet laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment, and your Marius got off easy with only a few seconds of breathing difficulty. Furthermore, that’s not kung fu, it’s . . .” Smiling, Dirk waved it off. “It doesn’t matter. Are you coming? We have a lot to straighten out, and I’m sure my partner would like to be a part of that conversation.”

  “The blond guy with the unkempt hair? That’s Sven Klein, isn’t it? I’d heard rumors that the LKA had been reinforced with an accountant and that some interesting things had happened. But it had never occurred to me that it might be you.”

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” Dirk said, but Daniel could see that the private detective stuck to his opinion and was right. The unexpected development puzzled him, but perhaps they would move ahead more quickly this way. “Is the BMW with you?” he asked.

  Michael smiled. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d notice. Yes. And I’m going to talk to Marius again later. He’s my nephew and actually pretty good when it comes to research, but he watches far too many American shows.”

  Smiling, Daniel ignored this reference and the curious look. This Michael was somehow likable, and his open manner appealed to him. Surprised would have been a mild characterization of Sandra’s and Sven’s reactions when they emerged from the little patch of woods in apparent harmony.

  “One moment—I’ll just make sure we’re not disturbed,” said Michael. Daniel couldn’t hear the quiet conversation between him and his nephew, but the result pleased him: angrily, Marius stomped over to the BMW, which took off a few seconds later with him in the backseat.

  “Were we ever that young and impatient?” Michael asked. “All right, before we get into the details: Michael Kerlinski, owner and chief executive officer of the detective agency of the same name. We primarily investigate economic crimes but also take on other cases.” He looked at Dirk.

  Dirk willingly took over. “We worked together about four years ago. A parent company suspected the CEO of a subsidiary company was diverting funds. I told Michael what I needed, and he got it. The cooperation went well; we met once in a while after that but lost track of each other over the past few months. You’v
e already recognized Sven—he’s an inspector in the economic crime unit. Sandra Meinke, drug unit. And an American colleague who’s supporting us in connection with this case.”

  After quick mutual nods, Michael gave Daniel a further curious look and stroked his chin. “Were you serious about that? Children? I hope you know I’d never . . . American colleague? What do the FBI and the drug unit have to do with something like this? Not to mention the economic crime unit.”

  Daniel wasn’t planning on correcting the understandable mistake, although he shivered at the thought of the FBI as his employer.

  Despite Sven’s thoughtful expression, Dirk maintained his commitment to expressing himself openly, saying, “Sandra was already working with this before she moved to the drug unit. We need her help, and her boss had nothing against it. My son ended up in the bastards’ sights; that’s why Sven and I are involved. But you’ve asked enough questions. Thanks to your nephew, I’m going to find your client anyway. What’s your assignment? Have you gone crazy? You’re following police officers—we could shut you down.”

  “No. I can reassure you on that point. I’m in perfect mental health and was by no means intending to play Russian roulette with my livelihood. I wasn’t given a reason, but the assignment was to provide a detailed three-day profile of your colleague’s movements. If possible, including the identification of all persons who came into contact with her and establishing her current address. I had no idea she was a police officer; however, the police station was specified as a possible site where she could be found today. I’d never have given you the name of my client; that would shut me down. Confidentiality is a rule of the business, even in dealings with you. But Marius is right. Weinreich is one of our steady customers; what you’re talking about here doesn’t fit him.”