by Marc Raabe
‘It made him insane. Completely insane. Even when I told him that everyone but you was dead. “How old is the boy?” he asked. “What has he seen?”
‘But for him, the worst part was the idea that the film was lying around somewhere and someone might recognise him on it. It drove him mad. When he realised that he was getting nothing out of me, he ransacked the entire house looking for it. But he found nothing. There wasn’t anything to find,’ Valerius laughs bitterly. His hand with the knife shakes. Liz bites her lips and tries frantically to adjust her hips to the blade.
‘At some point, he gave up. He probably just locked the door, gave Sarkov the key and left the house to rot. Maybe he even thought I would tell him eventually if he just waited long enough. And then he took me to Switzerland, or rather, Sarkov took me to Switzerland, and buried me alive. More than twenty-eight years under a goddamned Swiss chalet in a cellar hole cut into the rocks especially for me.’
Gabriel gasps. For a brief moment, like the beam of a torch in a dark tunnel, he has a sense of how horribly lost Valerius must have felt.
‘It took me twenty-eight years to free myself.’ He looks down at Liz. ‘And the little witch here managed it after just a few weeks. But you didn’t get very far, did you?’
Liz’s answer is a soft groan.
Now, Gabriel thinks. Just a bit further!
‘Stay there, where you are,’ Valerius roars, pushing the blade in further. Liz cries out in pain and starts hyperventilating. Her knees shake violently on either side of Valerius’s hand.
The blood in Gabriel’s guts freezes.
How much further? Six metres? Six and a half?
Even if Valerius has poor depth perception and seems not to have realised that Gabriel is now quite a bit closer, he is still at an advantage.
Six metres is too much!
‘What the hell,’ Gabriel asks, ‘are you planning? What do you want from me?’
Valerius sneers at him. ‘From you? I just want you to watch. Like your father. You understand? I want something from your little Lizzy here.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I want her to die. Over and over again.’
Gabriel’s heart skips a beat. ‘Over and over again?’
‘That was the plan on October 13th,’ Valerius says. ‘I wanted to give you some time. And I wanted you to guess what it was all about. That’s why I left the dress and the photo of the model in the house on Kadettenweg. I wanted you to remember and be afraid. Oh well. The plan is different now. It’s good this way too. In the end, it makes no difference.’
‘Over and over again? What is that supposed to mean?’ Gabriel asks hoarsely.
‘Are you holding out on me? Or have you really not guessed?’
Gabriel is silent.
‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. You know what that means, Gabriel? The beginning and the end are always the same. Always. And for us, it all started with a film. With a film in which a girl dies.’ Valerius’s gaze flickers. The burnt half of his face looks like a piece of raw meat. He gestures at the mirror with his prosthetic arm. ‘You see the red dot there? That’s been lit up this whole time? That’s a camera. It’s behind the mirror, just like back then. You can see through from the other side. The red dot shows that it’s been recording the whole time, every useless minute of our conversation.
‘Every useless step you take to get closer. The longer we speak, the longer and more agonising it is for you – your film.
‘Since this film is my gift to you, Gabriel. I don’t want to kill you. I won’t do you the favour. I want to give you something: a film of a girl dying. Your girl. And your child.
‘You’ll see yourself in it again later. You will wonder what you did wrong. Or whether it would’ve been better if you’d said different things. Or if you hadn’t come any closer. Or if it would’ve been better if you’d apologised to me or begged on your hands and knees or if you should’ve pounced on me immediately. Over and over again.’
Again . . . again . . . again . . . it echoes back from the ceiling. Time holds its breath.
Gabriel opens his mouth, stops, can’t find the right words. Even the most desperate hope dissolves, the inevitable solidifies before his eyes in the mirror, in the fucking red spot.
Valerius grins. ‘And what shall we talk about next?’
‘You’re a disgusting, evil, sick monster.’
‘God, how moral! I’m not evil. I’m just intelligent. And I only do what I have to do.’
‘Call it what you want.’
‘Were you evil,’ Valerius hisses, ‘when you held your knife up to your brother David’s throat to get out of the psychiatric clinic?’
Gabriel grimaces as if he’s been punched.
‘And when you pushed me into the flames? When you shot your father? Was that evil?’
‘How do you know about the time with David?’
‘Were you evil when you worked for Python? For Yuri, that shithead? Be honest, what did he really ask of you? Probably a bit more than just to check up on an alarm system here or there. And what about when you killed Jonas?’ Valerius’s eyes are glowing. His chest pumps up and down, his breathing is heavy.
Gabriel stares at the red light in the mirror. It’s only now that that he understands how carefully Valerius must have planned all of this from the first moment. ‘The alarm on Kadettenweg, that was you?’
‘Of course. I knew that you were on duty. And I knew you would drive out. I caught your little girlfriend at the very moment you were probably holding the dress between your fingers. Only, those morons had to come along and get in the way . . .’
‘Pit and Jonas.’
‘I should have been more systematic then. It would’ve been best if I’d killed them both right away, or maybe actually I only had to shoo them away, and then Liz wouldn’t have been able to call . . .’ The corners of his mouth twitch. ‘The irony of fate. Also, since you didn’t find the photo and you couldn’t remember anything any more . . . I couldn’t believe that. Or rather, I just couldn’t imagine. That must be something, I thought. I remember it well. You know, I found out a lot about you, I just couldn’t look inside your head. But, as I said, it makes no difference in the end. Things fell together of their own accord.’
Gabriel feels like the ground is falling out from under him. Time! he thinks desperately. I need to buy some time. He stares at the knife between Liz’s legs, sees her pleading expression.
‘The film keeps getting longer,’ Valerius says.
‘How do you know so much about me? How did you find me?’
The corners of Valerius’s mouth bend upwards again. ‘You want to buy time, don’t you? You must already suspect how I found you. But OK, I’ll tell you.
‘For decades, I’ve been forging my revenge from inside my tomb. When I freed myself around twelve months ago, you were gone. Swallowed up by the earth. So, I looked for Sarkov and watched my father. And then I saw you with Sarkov. Can you imagine how I felt? My heart beating faster and then slower, like after a long run, when you’re waiting for your breath to calm down.
‘A while later, I found out about Conradshöhe and got hold of your file. The fact that Sarkov became your legal guardian is typical of my old man. He always needed to have everything under control.’
Gabriel swallows bitterly and looks past Valerius to Liz. Tears are running out of the corners of her eyes. Her pale lips are open and he can hear her shallow breathing.
Valerius laughs triumphantly. ‘And now we are here and you are getting your film, your very own film.’
Six goddamned metres runs through Gabriel’s head. One moment, just look away for one moment . . .
‘Forget it,’ Valerius says, ‘if you so much as move in my direction, I’ll have stabbed her four or five times and slashed her open.’
‘I’ll kill you,’ Gabriel whispers hoarsely. ‘One way or another.’
‘Release me, if you can. Go ahead! But you’ll have t
o see all of this for the rest of your life. You will always see how you dived at me and came too late. Can you live with that? Having your parents on your conscience and now your girlfriend and child too?’
Gabriel clenches his fists. ‘What’s the difference?’ He grits his teeth. ‘If you’re going to kill her anyway, then I can kill you now.’
‘But isn’t it interesting that you’re not doing it? Valerius says, raising his eyebrows. On the contrary – you’ll wait, hoping for a miracle, trying to buy time. Every second counts for you, for her! And you know what? I’m happy to do you that favour. You and her. I like talking. I love to talk! For almost thirty years, I only spoke to myself. I was alone with my hatred. Now I can finally unload it on you. And how delicious that you are practically begging for it . . .’ A razor-sharp smile comes across his lips. ‘But now, to be honest, I have to put an end to this chatter.’
Panic rises in Gabriel and suffocates him. At the same time, his muscles are burning with rage.
Dive at him!
No, wait!
Make up your mind and do it already!
‘It’s time, Gabriel,’ Valerius whispers. ‘We’ve reached the climax, the climax of your very own horror film.’
The small red recording light practically drills a hole in the mirror. Gabriel stares at it helplessly. For a moment, he’s eleven again, he has the gun in his hand and he has to decide if he’s going to pull the trigger.
Do it, damn it.
But you’ll kill her if you do it.
If you don’t do it, then you’ll kill her.
Gabriel’s heart races. The red point dances in front of his eyes, and then – very suddenly – it goes out.
Gabriel stares at the spot where the red light was just glowing.
Valerius’s eyes are fixed on Gabriel’s face and he tries to figure out why his expression has changed, but can’t.
‘The camera,’ Gabriel whispers.
Valerius furrows his brow. He scans the mirror and then is clearly shocked.
Frantically and clumsily he feels around the stone table beside Liz with his prosthetic arm and hand, the knife tip twitching back and forth in Liz’s vagina from the movement. Liz bites her lip and groans.
‘Stay where you are,’ Valerius threatens. He lifts up the prosthetic arm and Gabriel sees a remote the size of a matchbox between the artificial finger joints of Valerius’s prosthesis. He wildly presses the buttons again and again, but to no avail.
The red light doesn’t turn on.
Cursing, he tries to change hands to use the remote with his good hand. The rigid fingers of the prosthetic hand reach for the knife, miss and the knife falls to the stone altar with a clatter.
‘Now!’ Liz cries.
Gabriel lunges like an unleashed predator.
Liz thrusts her hips forward as far as her chained joints will allow, throwing her entire backside on top of the knife.
Valerius freezes, one finger on the remote control, his eyes directed at the point where the knife should be. Then he abruptly turns around, throws his prosthetic arm up and thrusts it into Gabriel’s quickly approaching chin.
Gabriel stumbles. His legs give way and he falls on Valerius, who’s straining to keep from being knocked over.
Liz desperately tugs at her chains and tries to bring the knife further back with her hips to take hold of it.
Gabriel is still in a daze from the blow to the chin as Valerius pushes him away with one hand so that he bangs against one of the stone pillars. With a cry of fury, Valerius charges at Gabriel, raising his prosthetic arm like a sledgehammer.
‘Look out!’ Liz cries.
Gabriel sees the blow coming. He is paralysed. His muscles simply don’t react. As the prosthesis plummets towards his head from above Gabriel instinctively moves to one side, so it cracks down on his shoulder instead – the same shoulder that was already injured. The pain almost finishes him off. It’s as if an iron spike as thick as a finger has been driven into his flesh and he falls to the floor.
Valerius’s heavy breathing rattles. ‘It won’t help. You’ll lose her,’ he hisses ferociously and moves towards Liz.
‘Gabriel! Get up!’ Panicked, Liz presses her body against the cold stone slab and on top of the knife. Valerius’s grin is an expression of hot rage. The burnt half of his face glows fiery red in the mirror. He steps in front of Liz, who is tugging at her chains, and slowly raises his arm as if to enjoy every second of her pain. He looks at Liz, but she is staring past him.
He immediately turns around, just in time to step out of the way as Gabriel charges at him and then falls.
When Gabriel rams into the stone slab, it knocks the wind out of him and he doubles over. Valerius takes advantage of the moment and wraps his prosthetic arm around the throat of his attacker.
Headlock! pops into Gabriel’s head. It seems ridiculous for it to end this way. The prosthesis presses on his windpipe like a car crusher. The lack of oxygen weakens him and he moves like a helpless eleven-year-old, flailing, twisting around and trembling. He hears the chains around Liz’s wrists and ankles clinking in the background – and hears her calling him over and over again. He’s dizzy. His field of vision is shrinking, getting smaller and blacker around the edges as if he were falling into a well.
He knows that he only has a few seconds before he loses consciousness. With a final, almost superhuman, effort, he throws himself forward against the stone sarcophagus and levers Valerius’s supporting leg out from under him.
Valerius staggers, topples over, falls face down onto Liz and pulls Gabriel down with him.
At the same moment, Gabriel feels the pressure suddenly release from around his throat, the grip of the prosthetic hand loosens and Valerius twitches uncontrollably. Gabriel pulls his head out of his clutches and collapses to the ground, gasping for air.
Above him, Valerius releases a long, drawn-out groan, as if he’d had a terrible dream.
Gabriel tries to push himself up with his arms. His brain feels like it’s filled with water and he’s seeing double. Valerius stands up with a deep throaty cry. He grabs Liz’s hand that he landed on and twists it around. Liz screams in pain. Long, thick red drops fall to the ground from Valerius’s stomach. It’s only now that Gabriel sees the object that Valerius wants to pry from Liz’s hand – it’s the knife, which Liz was somehow holding in her hand when Valerius fell on it, stomach first.
The chains clatter softly as Liz drops the knife beside her in pain. ‘The knife, Gabriel!’ she screams.
Gabriel shakily stands, sees that Valerius is reaching for the knife, sees how his fingers close around the handle and how his arm rises to plunge the knife into Liz.
With both hands, Gabriel wrenches Valerius’s arm back. Valerius screams with rage, flails around wildly, tries to free his arm and thrusts the knife in all directions. With a horrible sound, the blade scrapes the stone beside Liz and then cuts through the air. Gabriel reaches into Valerius’s hair to grab his head with one hand, while the other hand is still trying to hold the arm with the knife. Gabriel desperately tries to find his footing, but steps into a dark puddle and slips. In the fall, he feels a dull thud and hears a bone-dry crunch like a walnut being crushed as Valerius’s neck meets the edge of the stone sarcophagus.
All of the tension leaves Valerius’s body, which goes slack as he falls to the floor. The knife hits the old tiles with a clink. Valerius’s intestines spill out of his stomach and a pool of blood rapidly forms.
‘Oh god!’ Liz gasps. ‘Is . . . is he dead?’
Gabriel heaves himself up on the stone sarcophagus. His breath rattles. He looks at her and only now realises for the first time that her eyes are the same colour as his mother’s.
‘Yes, I think so.’
Liz sighs. She tries to take a deep breath, but chokes and coughs. The chains clink around her limbs. Then she begins to sob uncontrollably.
Gabriel can’t get a word out. He gently places his right hand on her stomach, as i
f he can feel whether everything is all right under the surface. He quickly loosens the metal bands around her wrists and ankles and then he bends over her and hugs her. He feels her breath against his skin, her trembling chest rising and sinking, her sobbing tearing at his eardrums and her scent surrounds him like a bewitching perfume, more beautiful than anything he has ever smelled.
I’ve found you, everything inside him rejoices. His chest and his soul want to burst. I’ve found you! That is all he can think. Like a mantra, over and over again.
Chapter 56
28 September, 8.29 a.m.
David can’t move in the narrow chamber and is fighting to keep his composure. He can see Liz and his brother hugging right in front of him. Gabriel in the arms of a woman!
And now he can see how much she must love Gabriel and he feels an uncomfortable twinge in his chest. The idea that his brother can actually love someone is deeply comforting – and at the same time alienating.
He hears himself breathing in the tight space. The camera in front of him is still on; it’s just not recording any longer.
No red light any more.
On the small colour display panel folded out of the camera, Gabriel and Liz are lying in each other’s arms, Liz in her extravagant white dress. The disturbing cut down the middle is hidden from view. It seems almost surreal, sentimental, like the last scene of a film. Only, Valerius’s body beside them with his stomach cut open and innards bulging out is all too real, ugly and much too close. The puddle of blood has stopped growing and now forms a large, sticky black film over the floor.
David looks at his hands. They’re shaking.
He takes a deep breath and listens as his heart rate slows to a normal speed. Then he tries to push the heavy mirror aside, first gently and then with all his strength. But the mirror doesn’t budge.
He reaches for the only solid object in the room: the camera. He pushes together the cumbersome legs of its tripod and swings it into the mirror like a golf club. The crash of the old silver glass pane is deafening. The large sharp shards rain down on the stone floor of the crypt.