Nemesis: Innocence Sold

by Ross, Stefanie

  After taking a sip of soda, Lars turned back to his computer, typed in some names, and jerked back from the keyboard when the computer emitted a shrill beeping tone. “They only messed up that one thing: our internal speakers don’t have a pleasant gong that indicates when the program’s done.”

  Curious, Sandra stepped closer; Hannes and Volker followed.

  Lars said, “In this file I’ve entered the investigating officers from the Lübeck District Office of Criminal Inspection for all the cases that seemed strange to Hannes and Berger. Previously, I fed the computer the hierarchy there, of course with the corresponding names. Did I mention this program has some really smart additional features? That’s also very practical when one needs to chart the organizations of our Kurdish fellow citizens who’ve decided to take on a career in drugs. Anyway, I just put in the last two names and received the result instantly. One click, and you’ll see.”

  On the monitor an extensive diagram appeared, in which Sandra, taking a second look, recognized the organization of the Lübeck District Office of Criminal Inspection. Each of the boxes contained a different number of small stars and a percentage. The higher the level in the hierarchy, the larger the number of small stars and the percentage, up to a commander, the superior of Röhrich, whose name was emphasized with red and who reached 100 percent.

  Lars tapped the box. “Well, according to the computer, he would be your man. As far as his authority’s concerned, he could have influenced all the cases. In the case of Röhrich, there are at least two cases in which the necessary connections or competencies are not present. It’s also possible to take a look at the details, of course. I’ll save this and print it out, and then you can have a heated discussion about it, but please no more violence in this office.”

  Despite the casual reference, Hannes clenched his teeth. It was clear the message had been directed at him, and Sandra wondered what she had missed during the interrogation. Apparently, quite a bit.

  The Lübecker’s face spoke volumes; all that was missing was a contemptuous snort. “You really think that your magic program is going to achieve in two hours what Mario and I have spent weeks working on?”

  “Stay objective. It doesn’t automatically spit out arrest orders; it just provides starting points I’d say one should pursue. Our experiences with it have been good so far.”

  Sandra gave Hannes no opportunity to reply. “If this Kriminaldirektor . . .” She leaned forward to make out the name. “Anton Killinger. Well, if he’s the direct superior of Röhrich, then it could be that Röhrich noticed something and for that reason . . . behaved so ambivalently. That would make sense. Enter Killinger into the other database and see what comes out.”

  Lars smiled and tapped his forehead. “Aye, ma’am. That is exactly what I was planning to do. Finally, a woman who understands me.”

  Though Volker couldn’t grasp the double meaning of Lars’s mocking salute, he smiled. “I hope it doesn’t disappoint you that I was going to suggest that, too. Can you start with the trucking company somehow? I have a feeling about that.”

  “No problem—their data’s already there. The computer will let us know immediately after entry if it has anything.”

  Lars had hardly pressed the “Return” key when the computer gave a shrill beep.

  “Well, now I’m excited,” Hannes said and pushed in front of Sandra. Before she could protest, he read the information aloud: “The maiden name of the wife of the owner of the trucking company is Killinger. All right, I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on.” He stepped aside, looking as though someone had hit him below the belt.

  Lars smiled. “I have the impression it would have been better for Daniel to have given you the lecture about the advantages of teamwork. Man, don’t get so mad. Only the result counts, and we do appreciate your achievement.”

  Sandra suddenly felt Daniel’s presence. When she turned around, she was shocked to see him standing there. She sensed he had wanted to say something else but now felt forced to comment on Hannes’s reaction.

  “Lars is right: ultimately, the result counts. Don’t forget that there were only two of you, and you also had to do your actual jobs. Now an entire team is working on evaluating the data you gathered. I need you as a part of the team and don’t need trench warfare or sensitivity. So please concentrate on the task at hand. Everything else is unimportant. Bring me up to date.”

  Despite this, Sandra said, “Is there anything new?”

  “Later.”

  Sandra took a deep breath and refrained from replying. Her humorous boyfriend appeared transformed into a cold Navy officer accustomed to command.

  She felt a brief touch on her shoulder when he passed, though she thought it was probably something she had only imagined, and then she saw the rage behind Daniel’s controlled expression. What could have happened?

  It wasn’t until he looked at her that she realized Hannes was finished with his summary, and it was her turn. “Sorry. What was the question?”

  “The interrogation?”

  Wow. He couldn’t have been more brief; nevertheless, she began with a point Hannes hadn’t addressed. “The name Killinger is not particularly common. If the commander and the owner of the trucking company are really in bed together, that could be the motive for the attack on Berger. We had already established that the Lüttgens-Blumenthal axis didn’t justify a car bomb.”

  “Good point. Hannes, ask Berger whether he requested the trucking company’s files.”

  “I don’t need to. He did. I could have figured that out, too. Sounds convincing. Should I do something about Röhrich or Killinger?”

  “No, Stephan and Sven will take care of that. We’ll continue here. Sandra?”

  “All right. The most important point first. Sven’s choice was perfect; he got the bastard to talk. Kamps denies that he has a need to get in bed with children, but he suggested his friend is different. We couldn’t nail him down on this, and he’s not going to say anything about it in court. But that doesn’t matter; his buddy has a juvenile sentence for molesting an eight-year-old girl, and that will convince the court.”

  Daniel’s impatient expression made Sandra confine herself to the important things. “The contact with the mysterious unknown man wasn’t organized via Kamps but the other man. The moor as a meeting place was also a suggestion from Mr. X. Kamps believes Mr. X has supplied his friend with children. Girls, none older than six. But of course everything was ‘purely innocent.’” She rolled her eyes. “I really didn’t understand why Kamps is closing his eyes to reality. It looks less like fear than something else. But I don’t know; maybe Sven has some idea what was going on there. He’s still having a brief talk with the prosecutor and will be here shortly. Back to Mr. X. He made the suggestion that Kerlinski be taken out and that any companion be taken out along with him. Though Kamps didn’t admit this, he was enthusiastic about the notion of beating up the private detective on the moor. The girl would then be an extra bonus for his buddy, and Kerlinski’s companion would have had bad luck. Those ex-mercenaries were supposed to make sure nothing happened to the boys, which of course went seriously wrong.”

  Kat raised a hand. “Just a second. Are you saying they wanted to hunt human beings just for fun?”

  “That was part of it but not all of it. They were looking to settle accounts with Kerlinski. Five years ago, he carried out an investigation at a superelite private school and exposed Kamps and his buddy as members of a small but active drug ring. They’d supplied their classmates with pills and weed and were immediately kicked out of the school when Kerlinski informed the school’s director about those nice boys. Kamps’s friend, in particular, was really mad—because his father insisted on him completing his education, and he had to actually work afterward and also lost the use of his car for half a year. He had never forgiven the detective for that and was enthusiastic when he was now supposed to get the chance to shoot him.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Kat said, gathering
her hair into a ponytail. “I mean, those are worse bastards than the ones we have to deal with on a daily basis. I don’t believe it. It sounds like something out of a really bad movie.”

  “It’s true, though, unfortunately,” Sandra said.

  With a sympathetic smile, Kat pushed a cup of coffee over to her. “Here. Unfortunately not with a shot in it; no doubt you need one after that interrogation. I don’t know if I would have had enough self-control not to beat some sense into that spoiled brat.”

  Daniel didn’t say a word; but his gaze had become slightly warmer.

  Surprised at how much she longed for his touch, Sandra continued after a sip of coffee. “This Mr. X must know about the matter at the school. Unfortunately, we’re not getting a word out of Kamps’s buddy. The thought of appearing in court as a child molester has caused him to persist in remaining silent. The prosecutor’s office is evaluating whether he could be offered a deal if he were prepared to give up his connection to Mr. X, but that looks fairly unlikely. So we’ll have to find him ourselves. At least we have a starting point with regard to the circles he moves in, and Sven has already called Kerlinski. He’s going to have all the school-related documents sent over to us, and he thinks his papers are considerably more extensive than what’s in the police files because some things were swept under the rug back then. And now guess what District Office of Criminal Inspection was responsible back then.”

  “Lübeck,” Kat and Lars said at the same time while the two embarrassed Lübeck policemen remained silent.

  “I’ll volunteer to evaluate the papers,” Lars said. “I’ve had enough of this. Children, childish acts of revenge . . . Where are we here? Behind the wall of Dante’s hell?”

  Daniel opened his laptop. He informed them of the result of Dirk and Kerlinski’s conversation with the newspaper publisher. “I’ll get to what’s behind Sandra’s observation in a moment.” With a wave, he beckoned everyone over. Daniel’s controlled, almost cold manner wasn’t one Sandra recognized, and it indicated there was a rage in him. “We’ve found something on Sandra’s computer and on the photographer’s.”

  Daniel switched to his e-mail program and clicked on a link inside an e-mail message. Although he acted quickly, Sandra noticed the message wasn’t from Jake, as she would have expected, but from her brother. Some seconds passed; then an unfamiliar welcome screen demanded a username and password. Daniel pressed the “Return” key, and the screen was divided into two. On the left, there was a narrow column offering various possible entries, on the right, numerous pictures resembling passport photos. As far as Sandra could see, all the pictures were of children.

  “I don’t believe it,” Lars said behind her.

  “It gets worse,” Daniel said. “But first, something else: with this, we have the reason why they were after Sandra. This extra function was well hidden within the area she knew, but not well enough.” Daniel tapped the passport photos. “A large part of these photos were taken by our photographer. He was responsible for administering the selection on offer, as it were. On the hard drive of his computer, we found some records for which there are as yet no links here. Back to this program: on the left, one can enter preferences. Watch—I’ll take blond, brown eyes, under six years old.”

  Daniel’s fingers flew across the keyboard; he had hardly confirmed his entries when only three pictures remained on the monitor. The format was considerably larger than before, making it easy to identify children, so Sandra easily recognized Tim and Eric. Only the third child was unknown to her, but owing to his hair and eye color, he could have been a somewhat younger brother of the other two. A possible explanation for Daniel’s behavior shot through her, and without thinking she grabbed his shoulder. “The third boy . . . Please don’t say . . .”

  He laid his hand on hers and gently loosened her grip. “Yes. Unfortunately. Apparently, they’ll do anything to keep their promises.” He pointed to the picture and clicked, and a name and address appeared. “His name’s Colin; he’s only four years old. Dragged into a van before his mother’s eyes. The investigation is ongoing, but everyone expects the result to be a burned-out, wrecked vehicle. The mother’s not fit to be questioned; she’s in a hospital after having suffered a nervous breakdown. What we have, we know from witnesses. To begin with, our colleagues’ routine program will run parallel to our investigation; Stephan’s convinced this will be more efficient. We’re already having problems coordinating our efforts. Adding even more colleagues to our own team now would only cost us time we don’t have. Speaking of time, we have another twenty-four hours. Experience suggests that after that the boy’s out of our reach, and the case will be out of our hands. A special task force will take over. You’ll be assigned.”

  “What does ‘you’ mean?” Sandra asked.

  “They will not want to or be able to do it without you. The same goes for our colleagues from Lübeck. The rest of us prefer to fly under the radar. We’ll continue as we have up to now, but it will become more difficult to coordinate our actions.”

  And their direct cooperation would be at an end. She opened her mouth to protest vehemently but remained silent. She knew the hierarchy within the police all too well. It was thanks to Stephan and Sven that they had been able to move as freely as they had up to this point.

  A slight smile appeared on Daniel’s face. “We’re not there yet, Sandy. We still have a few hours, and we’re going to use them.”

  “If your only concern is that you’re not going to be working with your boyfriend anymore, then . . . ,” Hannes said.

  The cynical remark caused Sandra to understand the true meaning of the expression see red for the first time in her life. She spun around so fast that Lars drew back, startled. “Haven’t you understood anything, you idiot? It’s none of your fucking business what’s going on between Daniel and me, but what should interest you is that we’re so much faster and better than any special task force that has to follow all the rules. This is about the boy.”

  Hannes didn’t retreat but looked at Sandra coldly. “You should watch your tone. You don’t speak to colleagues that way and certainly not to one several ranks above you.”

  His lack of insight and the reference to the internal hierarchy rather than concentrating on saving the child were the last straw. “Your rank doesn’t interest me. At all. Furthermore, you just attacked Daniel and me, and he towers over you, both in terms of expertise and rank. And furthermore this is exclusively about who can do what best and not what rank is on a person’s pay stub. I’d have thought more about how it would be insane to tear apart a team like this and would regret that we can no longer access the resources we’re now able to. Once again: what’s most important is the child. But understanding priorities seems to be more than you’re capable of. By the way, I don’t even know exactly what it is you are. Would-be superintendent? To me you’re more the biggest moron running around here. As far as I’m concerned you can join your colleagues immediately or vacation on your island, but don’t waste our time.”

  This time Hannes was silent and looked for support from his colleagues. Kat and Lars didn’t move but smiled at Sandra and thus made it unmistakably clear whose side they were on. Volker also looked up, gave Sandra a smile, and then continued to flip through some printouts.

  Daniel’s eyes, on the other hand, glittered. “Are you done?” he asked, very politely.

  “Only until the next crap comes out of his mouth,” Sandra said.

  “Well, as you already said: we have no time for such crap. What exactly is your problem, Hannes? I don’t suppose it’s that Sandra and I have a private life when work ends?”

  Hannes maintained his position and crossed his arms over his chest. “Economic department. Drug department. Americans. A half-criminal colleague from Lübeck. What is this? Certainly not an official special task force. And you’re surprised at my distrust?”

  Volker wrinkled his brow, but didn’t let himself be distracted from his printouts. Sandra was getting curio
us about what was occupying the policeman to such an extent that he didn’t defend himself against the unfair accusation.

  Daniel didn’t seem insulted in the least, either. “No, I’m not surprised at your reaction; I just wanted to hear it from you. Stephan? Would you take over?”

  “Sure,” said Stephan, who had joined them but not yet taken part in the conversation. “But to begin with, some good news: I’ve just received confirmation that Binder’s laptop accessed the same catalog Daniel just showed you. This gives Sven nice thumbscrews, which he will use immediately. Binder’s attorney is already on his way. In forty minutes, we’ll be one step closer to the great unknown man.”

  Kat raised a hand and wished to say something. “Who’s Binder? Why laptop? Usable in court or just for information?”

  “Arne Binder is Kamps’s friend. The second man from the moor.”

  Kat slapped her forehead. “Sorry. Too many names. Now I’m back on the same page. How did you get to this so quickly? The technicians need forever. Is the evidence admissible in court?”

  With great smugness, Stephan looked at his colleague. “Why wouldn’t it be? Are you turning into our friend from Lübeck? The search was conducted officially by us, and we had the great luck that a colleague from the BKA became involved and immediately evaluated the computer. It would have been a nightmare if it had stayed in the evidence room for six months. Wouldn’t you say?”

  Kat seemed just as puzzled as Hannes, who asked, “How does the BKA fit into the picture? If they become active, then the case is lost to us.”