Hunke leafed through the files pensively. He then straightened himself up in his chair and pushed back his shoulders. ‘After the fire brigade had put out the fire and Monti’s body was found, we were called to Blodigstraße.’ He reached for a biscuit. ‘Most fires occur at the hands of humans. Technical faults and natural causes, like lightning or direct sunlight, are rare.’ He pointed to a photo of the burned-out flat. The ceiling and the walls were badly charred, the couch had been burned down to the springs, the shelving units above the kitchen counter had fallen off the wall and the sink was full of broken crockery. Beside the stove sat a dark clump of melted plastic and the floors were hidden by a mass of indefinable debris.
Hunke continued, ‘The most important questions for a fire investigator are the following: Who found the fire? When and how was the fire noticed? And in which part of the house were the flames first noticed?’
Nik flicked through the files. ‘The fire was first seen at 6.47 a.m. by the building caretaker. The first thing he noticed was a faint smell of smoke. After that, he went up the building stairwell, where he saw smoke wafting from underneath Monti’s flat door. According to his statement, he used his universal key to open the door but the fire had already spread extensively by that point so he ran down the stairs and called the fire brigade.’
‘Well, that pretty much answers all our questions.’ Hunke looked through the files again. ‘The only question the caretaker couldn’t answer was where the flames first appeared. In the end, the cause of the fire was put down to the washing machine in the kitchen.’
‘A technical fault?’
‘That couldn’t be clearly determined.’ Hunke pointed to a photo of the kitchen. ‘According to the statement given by the aunt, Monti had stored chemical cleaners on a shelf above the washing machine. Including diluting agent. Packaging remains from the thinner were found in the pile of washing that was standing in front of the machine. The flat had been very untidy and that led to a dense fire load. There were clothes and newspapers all over the place, all of which additionally fed the fire. If the thinner had fallen on to the washing in front of the machine, a small ignition would have been enough to set it alight.’ He skimmed through the files. ‘The aunt’s statement claims the victim was a heavy smoker and ashtrays were found throughout the flat. Evidence suggested Monti even sometimes left a lit cigarette lying on the table.’
‘And I read that in the end her death was determined as accidental?’
‘The police have the task of eliminating all possible causes of fire until just one is left,’ explained Hunke. ‘We knew in this case where the fire began and that the thinner encouraged it to spread. And from that came two possibilities.’ He stuck his index finger in the air. ‘The victim started the fire on purpose. She poured thinner over the clothes, turned on the wash and maybe laid a burning cigarette beside the machine. After that, she lay down in bed and waited to die.’
‘It’s possible,’ said Nik. ‘According to her aunt, Monti was severely depressed and it wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to kill themselves like that.’
‘A behavioural disorder as a motive for arson is not uncommon,’ added Hunke. ‘But I actually believed there were signs that suggested this fire was accidental.’ He pointed to a photo of Monti taken before the post-mortem. She was barely recognisable. Her face was badly burned, she had no hair, and her lips had been burned away, exposing her teeth, and creating an unfortunate, grotesque grin. Two holes sat where her nose had once been and her hands were contorted together into tight fists.
‘She died from carbon monoxide poisoning. But large amounts of alcohol were also found in her blood. She would have barely been able to walk in a straight line before going to bed and would have been sleeping off the inebriation when she died. We never found any lighters or other form of igniter, which suggests she would have had to plan the fire very subtly. Not an easy thing to do with a blood alcohol concentration of two. And furthermore, a suicide victim has no reason to cover up the cause of a fire. That’s normally what happens in insurance claims or murder cases.’
‘Was it possible somebody else started the fire?’
‘We investigated that possibility,’ replied Hunke. ‘The first step was an enquiry into the insurance policyholder. The owner of the building turned out to be financially comfortable, the claimed sum wasn’t particularly high, and the sum hadn’t been increased before the fire. The owner wasn’t involved in any dodgy business deals and he wasn’t being threatened, so we were able to rule out insurance fraud or an act of revenge.’ Hunke picked up a photo of a badly damaged door from the file. ‘There were no signs of breaking and entering, but it is worth mentioning that the locks were of poor quality. This, combined with the fact that there wasn’t a burglar alarm, meant it would have been easy for an experienced burglar to enter the flat.’ He returned the photo to the file. ‘We asked all the neighbours if they’d seen anyone suspicious that morning but nobody had. And when we spoke to people in her social circle, we found nothing to suggest somebody wanted her murdered. So that just left the accident theory.’ Hunke laid down the file and reached for his cup. ‘And how is this information going to be of help in the abduction case?’ He looked over at Nik.
‘I was hoping for third-party negligence,’ answered Nik. ‘Monti was in real financial difficulty at the time and I thought it was possible she might have been blackmailing the Grohnerts.’
‘Which would have then led them to have her murdered to prevent the secret from getting out?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘So where’s the link to the abduction?’
‘Well, we still don’t know who the father is. He might be the kidnapper.’
‘And why only now? Eleven years after Monti’s death and fourteen years after Greta was born?’ asked Hunke.
‘I don’t know. And truth be told, I’m starting to run out of ideas.’
Nik looked worriedly at his watch. It was twelve after seven and Balthasar still hadn’t arrived at their meeting point. The pathologist was the most punctual person Nik knew and was personally offended by any sign of tardiness. Their gardening friends were already on the premises taking care of the grass. Nik needed to speak to Vanessa Grohnert one more time and so he had thrown on his green work trousers and asked Jon to bribe the boss of the gardening company again.
Nik was taking his phone out of his pocket when he noticed a man in a dark suit walking purposefully towards him, his eyes fixed on Nik. He looked to be in his late forties, and was well built, with a smart haircut and tanned skin. He seemed like a typical businessman but there was something about the expression on his face that made Nik cautious – it was the look of a hunting dog that had spotted its prey, laced with an elusive smile, as though in anticipation of the upcoming encounter. As per his habitual response, Nik’s hand started to edge slowly down to his hip, only to realise he was unarmed.
‘Good morning,’ said the man.
‘Morning,’ replied Nik glumly.
‘May I ask what you’re doing here?’
Nik felt a snide remark pushing to escape the edges of his lips but he managed to hold it back. He couldn’t risk sabotaging the visit by causing problems with an overeager security guard. ‘I’m waiting on my colleague. We work for the gardening company that does the Grohnerts’ garden.’
‘Interesting,’ answered the man, his sly smile not budging. ‘You don’t look like a gardener.’
‘Just got into it recently.’
‘I see.’ The man paused. ‘Wanna know what I think?’
‘What’s that then?’
‘I think you’re some investigator, sticking his beak into Greta Grohnert’s kidnapping.’
‘OK. Or, maybe Clemens Grohnert hired me to keep an eye on his property.’
‘Then you wouldn’t be waiting around dressed like a gardener, would you?’
‘I guess we’ll never know, will we?’ said Nik, reciprocating the man’s smirk. ‘And if you wouldn�
�t mind, I’d kindly ask you to carry on with your walk and stop bothering me.’ Nik turned away from the man and looked up the street.
‘In case you’re waiting on your mate, Balthasar, he’s been picked up.’
Nik turned around abruptly to look at the man again. ‘What did you just say?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Herr Pohl . . . I wasn’t aware you suffer from a hearing impairment.’
‘You know what . . . ?’ said Nik, starting to take off his jacket. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be getting on with your walk.’
The man took three smooth steps back, opened his jacket and laid his hand on the gun in his holster. Nik stayed still, weighing up his options. Three steps. Had the man standing opposite him been a novice, he could have got to him quickly enough. But this man appeared too self-assured for that. It would be too risky. Plus, he didn’t know what had happened to Balthasar. ‘Where is he?’ asked Nik, raising his voice now.
‘If you’re worried about your buddy, you should answer my questions.’
Nik felt the rage mounting in his chest. He ached to pounce on the man; to hit him until every last bone was broken. But his opponent was in the position of power. Balthasar should have been there ages ago. If something had come up, he would have sent Nik a message. Something must have happened to him.
‘Let’s go back to my initial question. What are you doing here?’
Nik took a deep breath. ‘I’m investigating the case of the kidnapped girl, Greta Grohnert.’
‘And why are you not leaving that up to the CID?’
‘Because the CID are on the wrong track. The compensation demand is a joke. Nobody kills a chauffeur and kidnaps a kid in an act of solidarity with tradespeople who lost their job.’
‘So what’s the real reason for the kidnapping?’
‘I don’t know. That’s why I want to talk to Vanessa Grohnert. And that’s why I’m undercover.’
‘OK. I believe you,’ said the man, his grin widening.
Nik clenched his right fist. Two steps forward, and he would be in punching distance.
The man put his hand to his ear. ‘Bring him over.’
A van started driving along the street towards them. A plain, dark blue Mercedes Sprinter with a Munich registration plate. It stopped beside Nik and the side door slid open. A man jumped out, pulled Balthasar out by the arm and let him fall down on the pavement. Nik’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of Balthasar’s blood-covered face. He kneeled down beside him and lifted his face gently by the chin. He was still conscious and groaning quietly. His left eye was swollen and the skin underneath the eyebrow was ripped open. His nose was broken and his shirt was covered in blood. Nik pressed his hands down gently but firmly over Balthasar’s arms, torso and legs.
‘Don’t worry. No permanent damage,’ said the man. ‘Apart from the nose, nothing’s broken and we left his delicate pathologist hands fully intact.’ He moved closer to Nik. ‘This time, that is. But if you two don’t leave this case alone, I’ll cut off all his fingers next time and let you watch.’
Nik kept holding his friend in his arms after the van and the man had disappeared. ‘You’re going to be fine,’ he said soothingly as Balthasar moaned quietly, barely conscious. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Only when the ambulance arrived did Nik finally let him go.
Chapter 4
When Jon saw Balthasar lying in bed, he shook his head, feeling responsible for what had happened. Balthasar’s left eye was swollen shut and the burst brow above it had been stitched. He had a large plaster across his nose and a tube led from the back of his hand into an empty plastic bag that was hanging from a metal stand. Although asleep, his eyelids kept flickering and he was mumbling quietly. There was the unfortunate chance he was reliving the torture all over again.
The lamp attached to the bedhead was on and in the shadowed corner of the room, a figure sat, utterly still, on a chair, his gaze fixed on the door.
‘How is he?’ asked Jon.
‘Physically, he’ll be back to his old self again in no time,’ answered Nik. ‘There wasn’t any permanent damage. A broken nose, bruising on the face and a concussion. The doctor was worried initially because he was complaining of stomach aches but whoever did this, thankfully didn’t hit him hard enough to damage any organs. They want to keep him here until tomorrow because of the concussion and they gave him a sleeping tablet for tonight.’ Nik grabbed his glass of water and took a sip. ‘But it’s his mental state I’m worried about. Victims of violence like that keep suffering. I’ve seen it far too often. The fear on their faces, the feeling they’re going insane because they don’t understand what happened to them. You never know how they’ll react. Some hide it well; others are plagued with nightmares for years.’ He shook his head. ‘I should’ve never taken him with me.’
‘What the hell’s all this about?’ Jon pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. ‘None of it makes any sense. The abduction. The fact that not one, but two, drivers are murdered. And then there’s the weird demands from the kidnapper.’
The men sat in silence for a moment, contemplating all that had happened. ‘Is there anything new on the ransom?’ asked Nik.
‘The CID reports aren’t saying much. Apparently the special commission is saying it’s going to open an account for the affected parties so they can win some time. They’re using everything at their disposal for the search and dragging things out as long as possible – going from house to house questioning residents, using social media, doing traffic checks. The techies have built a ring circuit around the Grohnerts’ phones and linked it up to every police car in Munich. Means they could be near the relevant transmission mast in a matter of minutes if someone gets in contact. The police are doing everything they can. But . . . there’s still no sign of Greta, and the kidnapper hasn’t been in contact again.’
‘Any leads on the guy who beat up Balthasar?’
‘I don’t have enough information,’ answered Jon. ‘I never found any criminals on the wanted list that match the description you gave. And you won’t be surprised to hear the van registration plate was nicked.’
‘Sounds like the guys were pros,’ said Nik. ‘A van with a fake registration, a gun in a holster and not a whiff of fear. They must’ve known about our investigation. They wouldn’t have taken Balthasar otherwise. Either they got the information from the Grohnerts or they’ve got the place under constant surveillance.’
‘Based on Clemens Grohnert’s background, it wouldn’t be too surprising if he had contacts like that.’
‘But why go to so much bother?’ asked Nik. ‘All he needed to do was send a message to the CID and they would’ve taken me straight out of the game.’
‘OK. So if not Grohnert, then who? The kidnapper’s accomplices?’
Nik shook his head. ‘Unnecessary and risky. As it stands, neither we nor the special commission have got a single trace. Why change that?’
‘Perhaps it was Julian Nooten looking for revenge. I can imagine a man of that calibre would get pretty upset about his liaison with a rent boy being used to blackmail him for information.’
‘He could’ve just beaten up Balthasar at home. Abducting him and speaking to me was unnecessary. And why would he want us to stop our investigation?’ Nik took a sip of water. ‘I’ve gone through everybody it could be and none of them make any sense.’ He stuck his index finger in the air. ‘First of all, there’s the construction mafia. There’s every chance my new friends could belong to those corrupt bastards. But Grohnert’s construction scandal has been public knowledge for a long time now; our investigations haven’t changed a thing.’ Nik added a second finger. ‘Greta’s birth family. But Vittoria is dead and her aunt doesn’t have a clue about the agreement with the Grohnerts. So that just leaves the birth father.’ He lifted a third finger. ‘If the father is involved in Greta’s abduction, why would he make such a risky move by getting in contact? Neither Balthasar nor I had a single trace to him. Plus, he could have easil
y just gone down the legal route: a DNA test would prove Clemens Grohnert isn’t the father. So that, together with the statement from Vittoria’s aunt, would provide sufficient reason to doubt the birth certificate’s authenticity.’
‘Maybe we’re much closer to the kidnapper than we think.’
Nik shook his head. ‘No. There’s definitely a fourth party. No idea which side they’re on or what their interest is in the whole thing, but we’re missing a large piece of the puzzle and I’ve got no idea where to look from here.’
‘I might have found a lead,’ said Jon reluctantly.
‘To the kidnapper?’ asked Nik. ‘Where from? The CID server?’
‘Probably best if I start at the beginning,’ said Jon. ‘I programmed an algorithm that looks for similar cases in both the police database and online press portals. The first step recognises strong similarities . . . such as abductions of youngsters where the description of the offender is similar to the one in Greta’s case. When I stuck to that step, I didn’t get any matches, so I started removing characteristics with each step in the algorithm in order to increase the scope for hits. For example, the offender might have been involved in another kind of crime, so if I only concentrate on kidnappings, any information relating to other crimes wouldn’t flash up. And rather than only focusing on Munich, I widened the search to the whole of Germany.’ Jon paused and scratched his head. ‘In the end, you get a whole load of hits that you need to go through one by one. But yesterday, I came across something really strange. A care worker from a children’s residential home got in touch with the police two weeks ago telling them one of the residents had run away. Now, that in itself isn’t particularly noteworthy since the boy, Simon, has run away lots of times before. He’s been picked up on the street and brought to school by the police on various occasions. The algorithm flashed up the case because Simon is the same age as Greta and also because of a statement given by the care worker in which she explains how she’d seen a tall, scrawny man waiting for Simon outside the home and talking to him on two occasions. Her description was vague but she said the man had limped with his right leg.’
Blood Ties Page 7