‘Not entirely,’ answered Nik. ‘I need some information on a man who might be involved in the Greta Grohnert kidnapping.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘As you are aware, I provide affluent people with men and women who can satisfy their particular, if not entirely savoury, needs. I do not, however, abduct people and neither do I have contact with people who do.’
‘Frau Jablonski,’ said Nik, the smile still on his lips, ‘you are a keeper of secrets; a woman who could force members of the city council and German government to resign.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I didn’t have an awful lot to do with your work during my time at the CID, but I certainly had the chance to see how powerful you are. And I also know that despite the garish façade, you’re far more intelligent than you like to let on . . . if you don’t mind me saying.’
She looked up to the ceiling, as if trying to decide whether she felt flattered or insulted. Her gaze lowered again and she sliced off a chunk of cake with her fork.
‘You and your colleagues didn’t make it easy for me,’ she said, chewing on the creamy sponge. ‘That raid four years ago cost me a lot of money and even more of my reputation. I lost important clients and had to make great efforts winning them back. Why should I help you?’
‘Because of fourteen-year-old Greta.’
‘Ha!’ She pointed her fork at Nik. ‘I see worse than that every day. You know, Herr Pohl, just being seen speaking to you will cause problems for me. Discretion is vital in my line of work. How do you think my clients will react when they see a former CID agent sitting at my table?’
‘Help me and I’ll be out of your hair immediately.’
‘Listen. I’m a businesswoman,’ said Jablonski. ‘If you were still at the CID, we might have been able to come to a useful arrangement. But what good are you to me as a private investigator?’ She took another forkful of cake.
‘I can get you a name from an investigation file.’
Jablonski stopped chewing for moment and set her fork down on the plate. She looked at Nik. ‘Go on.’ She reached for her cup and took a sip of coffee, not breaking eye contact.
‘You and your lawyer have tried for years to find out who gave us the crucial tip that got proceedings against you rolling. You were never successful.’
‘And now you want to give me this name?’
Nik shrugged.
She placed down her cup. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Herr Pohl, but I actually know one of your previous bosses . . .’
‘I wonder who that might be . . . ?’ Nik mumbled.
‘. . . And this particular boss assured me that even he didn’t have access to that information. How is a former employee supposed to have such access?’ She picked up her fork again.
‘Someone I know has access to all CID records.’
‘Such a someone doesn’t exist. Unless of course you know the chief of police.’
‘My someone is a rather savvy hacker who even has access to frozen files.’
Jablonski tapped her fork on the table before setting it down on her plate again. ‘How do I know you aren’t lying to me?’
‘I wouldn’t take that risk,’ replied Nik. ‘I know you’re not just intelligent. You’re powerful . . . and vindictive.’
She paused for a moment before finally nodding. ‘OK. The files on my snitch for information on your man.’
‘You can only get the name of the informant,’ Nik replied. ‘The files stay where they are.’
She pressed her lips together and held her breath while wrestling with the decision.
Nik went on. ‘You’ll get the file extract this evening, and I get the information on my man here and now.’
She finally made up her mind. ‘OK.’ She picked up her fork and polished off the rest of her cake. ‘Who’s the man?’
‘Vincent Masannek.’
‘Heard he wasn’t feeling too good.’ She giggled. An evil giggle that exposed her opinion on the man’s fate.
‘Could say that,’ replied Nik, raising his eyebrow and curling the corners of his lips. ‘What do you know about him? And do you have any idea who might have murdered him?’
Jablonski signalled a waitress and tipped her head towards the chocolate cake. ‘This could take a while,’ she said, taking a sip of coffee. ‘The first time I met Masannek, he was working as a bodyguard for a prominent drug dealer. That was back in 2005. Never liked him from the start. Just your typical brutish gunman who enjoyed his work too much. Where Masannek differed, however, was that he was clever, calculating and reflective. It was no wonder he progressed so quickly in the job. Officially, he moved into the security field to become a consultant. But that was obviously just a front while he kept on working in the underworld. Doing the dirty work. Only difference was, he had more men.’
‘And what exactly was his work?’
‘Collecting money from the big boys who weren’t easily intimidated. He’d break the bones of anyone who tried to misbehave and end any territorial conflicts.’
‘So Masannek had a lot of enemies then?’
‘Likely. But he had a network of very loyal employees ready to do whatever was needed. So nobody ever dared start anything with him. The vast underworld needed his services over and over again, and since he remained as neutral as possible, he had a good standing in Munich. Nobody had to worry about him wanting to steal business. He was the king of a niche market.’
‘So what happened? Did he do something wrong in one of his jobs?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Jablonski.
‘Do you know who he last worked for?’
She shook her head.
‘But somebody was clearly angry with him,’ Nik remarked. ‘Otherwise he wouldn’t have been shot.’
‘Well, whoever it was must either be crazy or very confused. Masannek’s men will be looking for revenge now. Whoever murdered him won’t be alive for much longer.’
‘You want to pass on a top-secret file to Jablonski?’ asked Jon incredulously. He was speaking over the hands-free in Nik’s car.
‘Just the page with the name of the informant.’
‘You know you might be sentencing him to death if we do that, yeah?’
‘Murder isn’t Jablonski’s style,’ Nik said defensively. ‘He’ll just have to deal with a serious thrashing and then leave Munich for good.’
‘I thought you once worked for the CID . . . Isn’t protection of your informants of paramount importance?’
‘Not in his case.’
‘OK. D’you want to fill me in here?’ said Jon.
‘The man we’re talking about is Bertram Laake.’
‘Never heard of him.’
‘Laake is a filthy, unprincipled bastard, who for a long time was suspected of working with a paedophile ring. He would pick up young homeless people, get them hooked on heroin and then prostitute them to sick punters.’
‘And Jablonski worked with someone like that?’
‘She chucked him out as soon as the rumours started. And then the very next day he was standing on the CID’s doorstep offering his services as an informant.’
‘That’s top-secret information. Barely any agents had access to it. How do you know about it?’
‘My former buddy, Tilo Hübner, told me once over a beer,’ said Nik.
‘And why wasn’t he charged instantly?’
‘Because there wasn’t any evidence linking him to the paedophile ring. Only thing we had was a vague statement from a victim who was sitting in custody for robbery and battling with severe withdrawal symptoms.’
‘So you want to punish Laake by basically sending him to Jablonski’s slaughterhouse?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Definitely a unique way of seeking justice . . .’
‘Don’t go all fucking moral on me here, Jon,’ Nik retaliated. ‘You never saw the kids, did you? Twelve-year-olds with severe heroin addictions, traumatised by countless rapes. Two of them threw themselves into the Isar because they couldn’t take
it anymore.’ Nik hit the steering wheel with his palm. ‘Lives destroyed because a sack of shit like Laake runs a business hooking up sick paedo bastards with kids. The prosecutor never got enough to put an end to it so it’s only fair someone else gets the job done.’
‘It’s OK, Nik. I get it,’ said Jon. And of course he did. ‘You’ll have the file by this evening.’
‘Thank you,’ said Nik, still upset.
‘But listen, I need to talk to you about something else as well,’ said Jon, changing the subject. ‘I might have found a new lead in the Masannek case.’ Nik heard computer keys tapping. ‘I looked at all the incidents in Trudering and the surrounding area on the day of his murder. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting, but I did come across an entry about a towed car that belonged to Tina Vohl. She’d parked illegally in front of a school’s emergency vehicle access. About a hundred metres away from the crime scene.’
‘OK, and who’s Tina Vohl? And what does she have to do with the case?’
‘After closer inspection, it turns out that she works for the same security company as Masannek.’
‘And you think she might be the murderer?’
‘Unlikely,’ Jon replied. ‘I called the company today pretending to be a client who wanted to employ Tina. But the woman on the phone kindly explained that Tina has been in Brandenburg for the last two weeks and will only be available again at the end of the month.’
‘Brandenburg isn’t that far away.’
‘No, but there’s no way Tina drove from Brandenburg to Munich, shot Masannek and walked back to Brandenburg again.’
‘True.’ Nik ran through the events in his head.
‘Masannek must have used Tina’s car to drive to Trudering.’
‘Didn’t he have his own?’
‘Can’t find any record of it.’
‘Does the CID know about any of this?’
‘Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time before they put two and two together.’
‘Well, we need to take advantage of that then, don’t we, and take a look at the evidence before they do,’ said Nik. ‘Where’s the car now?’
‘In police storage.’
‘Then I know the perfect place for an evening stroll. And you’re coming with me.’
They waited until the train had passed before making a move. While Nik sprang across the tracks in two nimble steps, Jon was still heaving himself out of their hiding spot. ‘This is exactly why I prefer to sit in front of a screen,’ he muttered, stumbling after Nik.
‘Shhh. Be quiet,’ whispered Nik. It was a cloudy night, making it almost impossible to see him in his dark clothes and ski mask.
‘Remind me why I gave up my job as a successful app programmer . . .’ Jon continued. He finally caught up with Nik, who was waiting beside a bulky oak tree.
‘Just one more time to make sure you’ve got it,’ Nik said quietly. ‘The vehicle yard is manned twenty-four hours a day. That means today as well. Someone could come and collect their vehicle at any time. And what do you do then?’
‘I crawl along behind the cars, back to the trees. When I’m there I hide behind a tree trunk and wait until you give me a sign to say everything’s clear again.’ Jon was repeating the instructions Nik had hammered into him on the drive there.
‘Can any of your equipment be traced back to you?’ asked Nik.
‘What do you take me for?’
‘OK, good. Then we don’t need to worry if anything gets left behind.’
Nik took a small ladder off his back and leaned it against the fence that surrounded the vehicle yard.
‘Are there watchdogs?’ asked Jon.
‘No.’ Nik shook his head.
‘Cameras?’
‘Not where we’ll be.’
‘This place has no CCTV?’
‘Only on the barrier at the exit,’ Nik explained. ‘Normally if someone breaks in here, then it’s to steal a car and not to get a satnav reading.’
While Jon stood debating whether he should have brought some pepper spray with him, Nik had already climbed up the ladder and stopped at the top of the fence. He listened to see if he could hear anything. After a moment, he waved to Jon and jumped down on to the other side of the fence. Jon made his way up the ladder somewhat less elegantly, very nearly lost his balance at the top, and broke a thick branch off the tree behind him when he jumped backwards off the fence. All the while, he could feel the laptop in his bag digging into his back.
‘Be quiet!’ Nik said.
Jon huffily wiped the sweat from his forehead. ‘Could you not have just done this on your own?’
‘What, read a satnav’s history?’ asked Nik. ‘You clearly overestimate my computing capabilities.’
‘And you clearly overestimate my burglary capabilities,’ said Jon, straightening up his rucksack.
A car park with around fifty cars sprawled out in front of them. It was hard to see the make of the cars in the dark so Nik got down on his knees and started crawling from car to car until he found Tina Vohl’s navy BMW. He then stood up and signalled to Jon with a flash of his torch.
‘How do you plan on getting to the satnav?’ asked Nik as Jon arrived at the car.
‘It’s a BMW with a keyless function,’ answered Jon, as if that should answer Nik’s question.
‘Yes, and?’ The information had meant nothing to Nik.
‘All keyless cars can be hacked,’ explained Jon, reaching into his rucksack for his laptop. ‘Since I don’t have the key here to tap into, it’s a little more complicated.’ Jon placed a radio scanner on top of the BMW’s bonnet and started to run a program. After a few seconds he had found the frequency. He activated an opening signal and the car unlocked.
‘That was fast,’ Nik remarked approvingly.
Jon shrugged and opened the door on the driver’s side. He located a socket underneath the bonnet lever, removed its plastic cap and connected it to a thick cable.
Nik took a thin black blanket from his rucksack and laid it over the windscreen. That way, no one would be able to see the light from the dashboard or the laptop. He then bent down to speak to Jon.
‘What’s that?’ asked Nik.
‘A diagnosis interface with an adapter for all models from the last twenty years,’ explained Jon, starting up the software. ‘Gives me access to all the car’s functions.’ A couple of clicks later, and he was in the satnav’s memory, scrolling through recent entries.
‘Masannek was in Trudering a lot,’ said Nik as he looked at the data.
‘Yeah, but why?’ asked Jon. ‘Our victim doesn’t live there, nor does anyone else who has anything to do with the case.’
‘Going by this, Masannek went about his visits very strategically. First, he went to the Riem Cemetery, then the industrial area and finally, he went to Neutrudering and Gronsdorf. The only thing not mentioned on the satnav is this vehicle depository.’
‘So he was looking for something.’
‘Now all those scribbles on the map make sense,’ whispered Nik. ‘The streets that have been crossed out are the areas of Trudering-Riem where Masannek had been but hadn’t found anything.’
‘So what was he looking for?’
‘Someone, or someone’s hiding place.’
‘None of this is any help to us,’ said Jon.
‘Yes, it is. It means I can continue Masannek’s search tomorrow morning,’ Nik explained.
‘Nik, it was that search that got Masannek shot. And he was in no way an amateur,’ warned Jon. ‘And there’s not been a single trace of the murderer, which means they’re still running around out there.’
‘I’ll be careful,’ said Nik. ‘I know what to expect.’
It was early afternoon and the lunchtime traffic had calmed. Nik drove through the areas of Trudering-Riem that still hadn’t been crossed out on Masannek’s map. He had spent a long time focusing on the street where Masannek had been murdered but nothing seemed suspicious. There were some terraced houses, a block
of flats, a bar, a doctor’s surgery and, of course, the supermarket where his body had been found. In the end, Nik stepped back into his car, drove for another two hundred metres and parked. Driving slowly around a neighbourhood attracted too much attention, so he decided to walk instead, taking in the houses and the residents.
He bought a chocolate croissant from a bakery that was just about to close, put on a headset and called Jon.
‘Anything new?’ Nik asked without saying hello.
‘Nothing since our little trip to the depository,’ said Jon. ‘And with you?’
‘I’ve been driving around Trudering for hours and haven’t noticed a thing.’ Nik scrunched up the paper bag from his croissant in frustration. He was getting fed up. ‘Sussing out a criminal’s motives isn’t normally a problem for me, but my skills are failing me with Masannek. I know he was looking for something or someone he thought he would find in this area. And what or whoever it was must have been important to him, otherwise he would have just got someone else to take care of it.’ Nik threw the paper bag into a bin at a bus stop. ‘There’s nothing to suggest Masannek was with a colleague, which makes me think he was trying to be as discreet as possible. With the amount of power he enjoyed, he could have had someone on look-out on every street corner. The fact he personally beat up Balthasar I take as another sign he wanted to deal with this on his own. But whatever it is, it must have something to do with the Grohnerts – and therefore with Greta’s kidnapping. Why else would he have caught us in front of their property?’
‘Let’s go through all the possibilities,’ said Jon, ‘regardless of how ridiculous they might seem.’
‘OK. You go first.’ Nik was walking back to his car.
‘Masannek was trying to find Greta’s kidnapper or even Greta herself.’
‘And who’d hired him to do it?’
‘Greta’s biological father perhaps?’
‘Who we know nothing about.’
‘Could even be Masannek himself,’ suggested Jon.
‘According to Jablonski, Masannek was the top dog in his field in Munich’s underworld. And he was expensive. If we take Vittoria Monti’s aunt’s word to be true, then her niece wasn’t involved with powerful people like that.’
Blood Ties Page 12