Too Pretty For The Hills

by Ales Matko

  ''Then yesterday,'' Detective Mallek continued, ''you almost got snatched up in the forest, but by pure luck managed to escape. There are no Gypsies up there, obviously, no-one growing pot like you were told to put your mind at ease. We believe that it must have been the killer. You can imagine my reaction when I heard about what happened.''

  Dora wished now more than ever that she had never set foot in Graufirst. Her head was spinning as if she had been drugged again.

  ''And he must have been pretty upset too after letting you get away like that, so today he dropped all caution. I called a crisis meeting at our headquarters after your little stunt, and while we were there he went to the house where you were being held and ambushed and shot a number of my men, including the two you knew as the Dietrichs. Out of four people who survived, two of them are fighting for their lives right now. The local sheriff nearly bled to death after taking three bullets, and one of my guys is in a coma. Both were rushed to the hospital in Kleineohren. That’s a town about ninety miles to ...''

  ''I know where Kleineohren is!'' Dora exploded, nearly knocking herself over a second time.

  ''You do? Well hooptie-dah, good for you,'' Detective Mallek said, taking a cup of coffee held out to him by one of his agents and continuing his narrative without missing a beat. ''Of the four eyewitnesses, only two are in any condition to talk right now, a retired female cop who’s helping us and a local deputy. Only neither got a good look at the shooter so we still don’t have a clue who it is. Whoever he is, he’s either the Terminator reincarnated or else he’s the luckiest sonofabitch under the ...''

  His sentence trailed off and his face darkened, as if he were about to hurl his coffee at the wall.

  ''So this is where we stand right now, Miss Dora. You have any questions? Because if you don’t, I most definitely have some for you.''

  ''I’ve nothing to tell you!''

  ''Dora.'' It was Nicolaus, now standing beside her. ''The only reason we didn’t tell you sooner is because we didn’t want you to react…well, the way that you did in the end.''

  She looked him in his eyes, with palpable distrust, then looked back at Detective Mallek and finally down at the photos.

  ''If all this is true,'' she muttered, ''and you really are police, then you’ll surely let me go now, right? You can’t keep an innocent civilian here like this, against her will. I know my rights!'' She furiously shook Nicolaus’ hand off her arm. ''Don’t touch me! Oh, that’s right, injecting people with horse tranquilizers is also something the police do, isn’t it? All in day’s work, right? Hell no! Don’t think I believe any of this bullshit for one second!''

  ''It was a sedative, Dora,'' Nicolaus said, though he didn’t attempt to touch her again. ''You were acting out and ...''

  ''I have every goddamned reason to act out! Ever since I came to this shit hole of a town, you and the rest of these people have been playing games with me and you’re not stopping even now that I’ve exposed you! I have had it and want to leave!'' She broke down and started weeping. ''Please, just let me leave. I won’t tell anyone what goes on up here, I promise ...''

  ''Miss Dora, how exactly did you escape the Dietrichs’ house today?'' Detective Mallek asked, indifferent to her outburst. ''Did you see the shooter? I suggest you start cooperating.''

  ''Go to hell!'' she wailed.

  ''Think, please. You can help us immensely and yourself too if you ...''

  ''I told you to go to hell!”

  He stared at her for several seconds.

  ''Agent Kovacz,'' he said finally. ''You, Specht and Janz will drive Miss Dora off to the number three and stay put, keeping an eye on her. Keep the safety off and shoot anyone not waving a white flag. I’m not even kidding.''

  ''Yes, sir.''

  ''Oh, and one more thing.''

  Nicolaus stepped over to the detective, who whispered something in his ear.

  ''Yes sir, I’ll try.''

  ''Keep me posted. And hand me some sugar before you go, this coffee tastes like … Look, I’m sorry for what you had to go through, Miss Dora,'' Detective Mallek said, opening the drawer of the cube table and pulling some files out, ''but until we hear from our two eyewitnesses over in Kleineohren, one of whom will hopefully know the identity of this miserable son of a bitch, you’ll have to remain here, under our surveillance, either until we catch this wack-o or until you can leave without jeopardizing the operation.''

  Dora felt utterly powerless. A burning sensation spread over her skin when Nicolaus crouched down and snapped the plastic straps, freeing her hands and legs. She shot up and staggered, looking around like an injured deer cornered by hunters. Between her and the door there were now three men.

  ''I realize all this may be a bit hard to swallow,'' Detective Mallek added. ''But when you finally start to come to your senses I expect your fullest cooperation. You got that?'' He picked up a brick-like telephone and put it to his ear, indicating that the conversation was over.

  The agents escorted Dora out into the cold night, clutching her arms tightly and pushing her into the back of a big SUV.

  ''Dora.'' Nicolaus sat on the seat in front of her and turned around, his unshaven face downcast. ''I just want you to know that despite everything you must think of me right now, I meant every word I’ve said to you today. Have I left some things out and distorted the truth? Sure I have - but I’ve done that with your best interests in mind.''

  ''Drop dead!''

  ''What good would it have done if I’d told you any of it, disobeying the orders of my superiors? I would only have scared you, and you might have done something crazy. So instead I decided to leave you in the dark and focus my efforts on protecting you. And I did, believe me. Since you arrived, in fact, I’ve slept only about three or four hours a day, and zero at night.''

  ''Can you can it with these moronic charades already, please? I don’t know why it’s so important for you all that I buy into your ridiculous little story! Like it’s not enough that you’re holding me here against my will and planning to do God knows what with me, but now I also have to believe these brazen lies of yours! Such an absurd scenario, too! A serial killer and a covert operation of this scale! Give me a break!''

  ''Except it’s not lies, it’s the truth! And you believing us is the only way to keep you safe, don’t you get it?''

  She glowered at him.

  ''Dora, this psychopath, whoever he is, won’t stop! Not until he either kills you or we make him stop!''

  Another grim-faced man opened the driver’s side door and got in, waited until another agent climbed in next to Dora, and started the car. They took off immediately, down a road through the dark brushwood.

  26

  The rain had stopped entirely, but thick fog was hovering among the trees, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.

  The big SUV pulled up to a two-storey wooden house further up the mountain that looked like it would collapse at any moment were it not for the support of a few old spruce trees. Dark, dirty windows, dusted with pollen, the roof covered in a thick canopy of branches with a layer of terracota polyvinyl sticking out. But even if it had been a palace, Dora wouldn’t have been any more eager to go in. Still, with the three men clutching her, she had little choice.

  The flickering light barely illuminated this shipwreck of a house, and the interior smelled of rotting, wet furniture and flooring.

  Dora quickly turned around as soon as she felt her custodian’s grip relax, intending to make a break for it, but the last member of the entourage closed the door in time and shook his head.

  Fifteen seconds later she again tried to escape, this time by exiting through a window, but this attempt was no more successful than the first.

  ''One more, and I’m cuffing you to the radiator.''

  She didn’t see any radiators, but realizing that sometimes discretion was the better part of valor, decided not to make an issue of it. She sat down on a dark-green sofa that looked like a halfway house for homeless fleas.

&n
bsp; Nicolaus, who hadn’t said a word since they left the hut, pulled the curtains and left the room. He was heard walking upstairs shortly after, his heavy boots thumping on the wet wood. When he returned he was carrying a big, clunky machine that looked like an old-timey cash register.

  ''You’ve left me no other choice,'' he muttered.

  Dora shot up, sure that he was going to do something horrible to her. And indeed, he opened up a compartment in the iron chasis and started pulling various plugs out, but then he sat down on the moth-eaten sofa and put a wired leather strap around his own neck and a little plastic clamp on a few fingers of one hand.

  ''This,'' he said, “is a polygraph, aka lie detector. Seeing as how there appears to be no other way you’ll ever believe me, I’ll be answering any questions you may have, and you’ll be monitoring me.''

  Dora remained standing.

  ''Who’s to say that’s really a lie detector?'' she mumbled.

  He tapped a label on the side. It looked authentic enough and there was written ‘AB-2#2,19 Polygraph’ in small print.

  ''Well okay, if I want to trust a label ...''

  ''Come, sit down. Let me walk you through this.''

  She rather hesitatingly obliged.

  ''See this tray? This is where the needles are going to draw lines on the paper. And every time I have an emotional response - like in the case of me being nervous, which in theory means lying - they’ll start jumping. Now to show you what this means in practice ...'' He flipped a switch on the side and the machine came to life with a rattling noise that made Dora bristle. ''Ask me a question so you’ll see what a deviation - or lying - looks like on paper.''

  She was looking skeptically at the needles and the strip of paper rolling out continuously onto the wooden floor.

  She thought for a moment.

  ''Is your name really Nicolaus?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''Are you really a tutor?''

  ''No.''

  ''Are you a man or a woman?''

  ''No, that’s too ridiculous. Ask me something I’d be inclined to lie about. I don’t know, maybe ...''

  ''Did we have sex earlier today?''

  The two other men, watching the procedure with palpable amusement, exchanged a look. Eyes riveted on the paper tray, Dora noticed some needles started to bunnyhop when Nicolaus said ‘no’. She waited until they’d returned to normal before continuing.

  ''You said that you love me. Did you mean it?''

  A brief hesitation, then ‘yes’. No great reaction noted by the mechanism this time.

  ''Do you mean that?''

  ''I do.''

  ''Then why are you doing this to me?'' she wailed despairingly. ''Why are you involving me in these sick games you and the other townspeople are playing?''

  ''There’s no games, Dora, honest to god. A serial killer’s on the loose. A man who’s raped and killed fourteen women, and we’re trying to track him down.''

  ''So you say you’re some sort of agents?''

  ''Some of us, yes. There’s also a bunch of undercover cops and a few extras.''

  ''Really?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''Really?''

  ''Yes.''

  She was checking the paper regularly, but the needles were recording more or less straight lines.

  ''What about the townspeople?''

  ''What about them?''

  ''I mean those Gypsies. Why did they try to harm me?''

  ''Mallek already explained that. They’re not Gypsies. They’re the residents that didn’t move away after this nightmare started. They’re too afraid to live normally. The only time they leave the cover of their homes is at night when they come together and roam the streets with torches, singing songs and trying to chase the evil away.''

  According to the machine, he wasn’t lying now either.

  ''But ... But that old woman, she attacked me - you saw it! And that little dirty kid!''

  ''Well, when the residents saw pretty little you, they knew you’d be an easy target and tried to warn you. That old woman you saw next door, for instance, is not crazy at all. I suspect she was only trying to take you under her wing. The whole situation has definitely taken a toll on people’s mental health, but they’re still kind. Only in the middle of them, a monster is lurking.''

  Again, apparently not a single lie was registered.

  ''There was something wrong with the phones ... Were you behind that as well?''

  ''We block all calls to the outside, except in the case of a couple phones in agents’ houses. It’s safer that way. We don’t want the residents calling any reporters. We’re having enough trouble containing this as it is.''

  ''I knew it! But my friend managed to get a call through to the Dietrich residence.''

  ''Their phone was temporarily unblocked at first when you joined them.''

  ''OK then, what happened to little Anne Dietrich? Her face changed!''

  ''She and a lot of the other kids are stand-ins. And she started to misbehave about the time you arrived and didn’t want to be a part of this anymore, so we had to replace her.''

  ''So she was actually a different person!''

  ''The closest one we could find that resembled ‘Anne’, on such short notice, yes. Another little girl.''

  By now Dora was completely oblivious to the pungent aroma of the long johns she was still wearing. She went quiet for a while as the polygraph paper continued rolling down to the floor and across the carpet.

  ''So there really is a killer on the loose?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''And you are the good guys.''

  ''Uh-huh.''

  ''And I was brought here as some sort of bait?''

  ''Yes. I’m sorry.''

  ''All of this is true?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''All of it, what I just asked you.''

  ''It is, I told you.''

  ''Really?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''Are you sure?''

  ''Yes.''

  ''Absolutely sure?''

  ''Jesus Christ, Dora! If it’s the truth, it’s the truth, no matter how many times you ask! The only party not willing to recognize it as such is you.''

  The machine rattled on, gently shaking the wobbly table underneath it.

  ''Are you the killer?''

  ''Really? I mean - really, Dora? How does that make any sense?''

  The needle was jumping now due to his outrage. Nicolaus reached over and flipped a switch and the polygraph stopped its terrible ruckus.

  ''I’m an awful liar. You can ask anyone at the bureau.''

  ''It’s true, Miss,'' said one of the agents, leaning on a commode.

  Nicolaus removed the straps off and put them away. Then he tore up and discarded the polygraph paper.

  ''Satisfied?''

  ''But it’s all so bizarre,'' Dora groaned, her head in her hands.

  ''I won’t argue with you there. But that doesn’t make it any less true. Believe me, I wish it did.''

  For a while, no-one said anything.

  ''Now ... I’m not saying I believe you ...''

  One of the agents rolled his eyes and the other made his mouth flap like a horse. Nicolaus sighed.

  ''... but I want to know what happened - or supposedly happened - at the Dietrichs today.’’

  ''It’s good you ask because we too, would like to question you on that. The killer struck, plain and simple. He sneaked over under cover of night and entered the residence, killed a few of our people and left four alive, two of whom don’t have much of a chance, to be completely frank. After unleashing hell in the living room, he ran upstairs and shot the kids, probably looking for you. Then he left through one of the upper windows and jumped off the roof - this much we managed to put together. So tell me how you saw it? How did you escape?''

  Dora’s hands and knees were shaking.

  ''Let’s see ... I was drugged you know ... OK, I went out through the window in the kids’ room and jumped off the roof. And I was standing in the yar
d peeking into the living room from the lawn. I saw a bunch of people inside but left when someone said they were going to check up on me. And then the shooting started and I ran away. I think someone rang the bell just before it started, but I left before I could see who it was.’’ Dora paused for a moment, her expression confused. ''Didn’t you say the killer escaped through one of the windows upstairs too? Why would he do that?''

  ''Because an ex-cop - Erica Ziegler - and a local police deputy held the ground downstairs by then and there’d be no more element of surprise. Those two then went upstairs after the shooter, only to discover the upper floors empty. When they looked out through the open window in the kids’ room, they saw the silhouette of someone running away. They shot at him but missed.''

  ''So that’s what those shots were ...''

  ''Are you positive you didn’t see who rang the doorbell? That could have been our shooter!''

  ''Think hard, Miss,'' one of the agents said.

  ''Yes, I’m positive. I thought these people were going to do something horrible to me, so I wasn’t exactly eager to stay there.''

  ''Who was it that you saw in there?''

  Dora bit her lip.

  ''There was a muscular man with blond hair.''

  Nicolaus nodded.

  ''And a short, slim woman.’’

  ''Right.''

  ''And Erica Ziegler.''

  ''Go on.''

  ''Then there were ‘Mr. and Mrs. Dietrich’ and the sheriff. He appeared a bit innebriated.''

  ''What else is new?''

  ''And I remember there was a skinny man who wanted to smoke but Greta wouldn’t let him.''

  ''That’s probably the deputy, Katzer. Was that all?''

  ''No, there were a few men by the TV ... They ... Oh, God. It’s so hard to remember.''

  ''We need you to try, Dora.''

  She hesitated for a moment then shook her head.

  ''The people you’re describing are members of our task force, all accounted for,'' one of the agents said. ''Did you by any chance hear the voice of that visitor, anything that could help us identify him?''

  ''I was drugged. It’s all just a blur.''

  ''Maybe we should put her on the polygraph,’’ the other agent opined.