Blood Ties

by Alexander Hartung

  Chapter 15

  The incessant beeping followed Nik into his dreams. It was a synthetic, unnatural noise, like a radio alarm clock calling him to get up for work. Then the dream ended and he opened his eyes to a blinding light. He turned his face to the side and the beeping stopped. Somebody was standing beside the bed. They were hanging a bag filled with clear liquid on to a metal stand and fumbling around with a thin plastic tube which led to a catheter in the back of Nik’s hand. The figure stepped out of Nik’s field of vision and he heard a door close.

  He was aware he was lying in a hospital bed. His head thumped dully and his legs felt as if they had been buried in concrete. His throat was dry and his lips were stuck together with gluey saliva. As his eyes became accustomed to the light, he noticed a man sitting at the end of his bed, his face consumed by worry, as though unsure Nik was going to survive the next few hours.

  ‘Didn’t expect to see you here,’ whispered Nik. His former boss smiled back at him gently. His white shirt was crumpled and he wasn’t wearing a jacket. An unusual sight for the CID agent who was normally so well groomed.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked. Nik heard the concern in his voice. Naumann had never spoken to him like that before. And just then, images started coming came back to him: the shooting on the patio, the fear on the faces of Hannes’ parents and their screams of terror and desperation.

  ‘The boy’s alive and safe,’ said Naumann, as if he’d read Nik’s mind.

  ‘How is that possible?’ asked Nik in a slow whisper. ‘The men caught me . . . and the police at the front door were knocked out.’

  ‘They took Hannes with them,’ explained Naumann, ‘but an officer found him the following evening at the edge of South Park. He was physically unharmed.’

  ‘And how is he now?’

  ‘Not good,’ replied Naumann sadly.

  Nik glanced around the room sluggishly. He was hooked up to a monitoring device and had been given pain medication. He felt exhausted and his shoulder and leg were covered in bandages.

  ‘How long have I been lying here?’

  ‘Two days.’

  Nik felt his head with his hand. The hair above his left ear had been shaved and he could feel stitches.

  ‘That will heal soon,’ said Naumann. ‘You lost a lot of blood and you suffered a craniocerebral trauma from the blow to your head. But the doctors have said you’re over the worst of it.’ Naumann took a step to the side, exposing a table covered in flowers and presents and a basket full of cards. A large balloon with the words ‘Get Well Soon’ was also bobbing above the table. ‘You impressed a lot of people, Pohl.’

  ‘Why? Because I got myself shot? Or because I didn’t manage to stop Hannes from being kidnapped?’

  ‘Because you risked your life to save the boy. Because, in spite of Greta’s death, you didn’t give up, and because you were right, yet again, with your assessment of the case.’

  ‘How do you know what my assessment was?’

  ‘I got an anonymous call from a man yesterday,’ said Naumann. ‘He sent me all your files.’ Naumann stood in front of the bed. ‘Impressive work.’

  ‘But was any of it useful?’

  Naumann shook his head dejectedly. ‘We have neither a trace to Greta’s murderer nor to Hannes’ kidnapper.’

  ‘Then you need to go for Olaf van Berk.’

  ‘We did. We searched his house under false pretences.’

  ‘Let me guess . . . you didn’t find a thing?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Van Berk’s at the top of the top,’ said Nik. ‘He’s not going to leave any traces.’

  ‘We’re keeping an eye on him. And we’ve formed two special commissions for Greta and Hannes.’

  ‘And that’s why you came here today? To tell me that?’

  ‘I actually just wanted to come and find out how you were . . . and bring over a card from your former colleagues. But your friend Balthasar was so exhausted I said I’d stay here for the evening so he could get some sleep. He’ll be so happy when he hears you’re awake.’

  ‘He’s a good man.’

  ‘And a good friend too, apparently.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ said Nik quietly.

  ‘You should sleep.’ Naumann pulled a large mobile phone out of his pocket. ‘I take my work everywhere. I’ll read my emails until Balthasar gets back.’ He took a gift basket off a chair and sat down, crossing his legs.

  ‘Let me know if anything happens,’ said Nik.

  ‘Let’s just concentrate on your health today, OK? And I’ll fill you in on everything when you’re out of here.’

  Nik wanted to say something but fatigue overcame him. He closed his eyes and slipped into a deep sleep.

  ‘I’d like to remind you that we agreed on half an hour,’ said Balthasar indignantly. He was standing beside the bed, pointing to Nik’s phone. ‘After that, we are hanging up and you are getting some sleep.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ groaned Nik.

  ‘Don’t be rude.’ Balthasar lifted his finger threateningly towards Nik. ‘You suffered a craniocerebral trauma so severe even your bullhead couldn’t handle it. So, we will be keeping any exertion to a minimum.’

  ‘Thinking isn’t stressful.’

  ‘Who is the doctor here? You or me?’ asked Balthasar. ‘And if you make that face at me one more time, I’ll tell your nurse what’s really in that bottle of apple juice. And I don’t mean the pretty blonde one you’ve been attempting to flirt with . . . very badly.’

  ‘How can you flirt badly?’

  ‘So . . . what are you doing after work?’ Balthasar mimicked in a deep voice before giving a disdainful snort. ‘It doesn’t get any cruder than that.’

  ‘I’m not sure if you’re the right person to be giving me advice, considering your sexual preferences.’

  ‘Listen to me, hetero man: the principle is exactly the same,’ said Balthasar. ‘If you continue acting like that, your mini Nik is not going to be having any fun.’

  Nik crossed his arms and looked away with a huff. He could hear Balthasar unlocking his phone and calling someone. Shortly after, Jon spoke over the phone’s loudspeaker.

  ‘How are you?’ Jon asked.

  ‘Well, if I don’t die from the injuries, it’ll be from the boredom,’ answered Nik. ‘Plus, I’m missing Balthasar’s culinary skills.’

  ‘Not much of a compliment really, considering the crap they serve in here,’ said the pathologist. ‘Anyway, bearing in mind Nik’s condition, we should get straight to the matter at hand.’

  ‘Right, well, Hannes is back with his parents, living at an unknown location,’ said Jon. ‘So unfortunately, I can’t tell you how the poor guy’s doing.’

  ‘And the two police officers?’

  ‘Still signed off sick,’ said Jon. ‘The stun grenades really took their toll on their eyes and ears, but they’ll be back to work soon.’

  ‘Then clarify for me what happened that night,’ said Nik. ‘I’m missing the key moments.’

  ‘Well, as well as the damage they did, the stun grenades also woke up the entire neighbourhood in about a one-kilometre circumference. That meant there were enough witnesses to thoroughly reconstruct the attack on the Leppers’ house,’ said Jon. ‘Four people in total were involved. You shot the man with the sledgehammer in the leg. The second guy, who you never had any contact with, was the getaway driver. He’d also thrown the stun grenades and while you were storming the house, he tied up the two disoriented police officers with cable ties. He also went to collect the guy you’d shot, and put him into the car. While all this was happening, two other men were making their way towards the back garden. At least one of them had a crowbar and the plan was to break in via the patio door.’

  ‘I hadn’t expected them to divide themselves up that way,’ said Nik. ‘I thought they’d come in the front door. That’s why I left the guy with the hammer lying at the door . . . Thought it might make the others a bit more cautious.’

  ‘
Well, the two in the garden must have heard the shots and then, when you stormed out the patio door with Hannes, they started shooting.’

  ‘At least nobody shot Hannes.’

  ‘No, they wanted him alive. That’s why they couldn’t just shoot wildly at you.’

  ‘Which was the downfall of one of them, right?’ Nik pointed to his forehead.

  ‘That was Vic Claes. A Belgian citizen with a record that doesn’t exactly paint him in a friendly light. According to ballistics, it’s him you’ve got to thank for the shot to the calf.’

  ‘Any link to van Berk at all?’

  ‘Would have been nice. But no. The second attacker shot you in the shoulder and hit you on the head with his gun,’ Jon continued. ‘He then went on to shoot two bullets through the patio door into the house. But Hannes’ parents had stayed under cover and were unharmed. He finally picked up the boy and dragged him through the garden to the street, before shoving him into the car and driving away with the two other men.’

  ‘And the registration number?’

  ‘Noted down by numerous neighbours, but in the end, the car had been stolen.’

  ‘Dozens of people must have called the police with that level of noise,’ said Nik. ‘Where was the police back-up?’

  ‘There was a problem that evening.’

  ‘Ah yeah. The hostage at the market,’ Nik remembered.

  ‘Exactly. Which, in the end, turned out to be a hoax and just a load of false reports.’

  ‘Van Berk?’ suggested Balthasar.

  ‘Highly likely,’ said Jon. ‘But only two of the callers could be traced. Both of them were drug addicts who admitted during the interrogation that a man had paid them to make the prank calls.’

  ‘That piece of shit!’ Nik hit the armrest on his bed. ‘And what did the forensic results have to say?’

  ‘Nothing enlightening,’ said Jon. ‘No fingerprints, and the DNA from the man with the sledgehammer wasn’t in the database. Vic Claes had no links to the teenagers and he used an unregistered SIG P210.’

  ‘And what about the stun grenades?’

  ‘From Russian army stock,’ said Jon. ‘Easy to get hold of if you know the right people.’

  ‘And the getaway car?’

  ‘Was found burned out near Freising on the banks of the Isar.’

  With a sigh, Nik let his head sink back on to his pillow. After everything that had happened, he had at least hoped for a lead to van Berk.

  ‘And why didn’t they shoot Hannes?’ asked Balthasar.

  ‘Because the kidnapper isn’t afraid the boy will say anything,’ explained Nik.

  ‘So he isn’t an absolute beast then.’

  ‘It’s little consolation really.’

  Nik rubbed his forehead. The medication was making it difficult to think and the pain from the bullet wounds and the blow to the head also weren’t helping. ‘The four men were an elite group,’ said Nik. ‘They won’t be easily found. And behind all of them is a man who moves in all the right circles and has a lot of money.’

  ‘So van Berk is still our main suspect?’ asked Balthasar.

  ‘Apparently so,’ said Jon. ‘But other than that, we’re still in the dark . . . We still don’t know the reason for the abductions.’

  ‘And we have no idea if the perpetrator has even found what they’re looking for,’ said Nik. ‘Which brings us back to Simon.’

  ‘Nothing new. Not on him or on Daniela Haas,’ said Jon. ‘I sent Naumann all our investigation files, but the CID still haven’t had any success.’

  ‘I just hope they’ve managed to hide and aren’t lying dead in the ground somewhere.’ Nik closed his eyes. ‘It’s been four days since Hannes was taken and we’re still groping around in the dark.’

  ‘Naumann and his men aren’t giving up and neither will I,’ Jon assured him. ‘You can’t do anything in your state so get some rest until you’re back to your old self again. If anything happens, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘And with those lovely closing words,’ said Balthasar, ‘it’s time for a midday nap! Bye for now, Jon.’ He put his phone back in his pocket and squeezed Nik’s hand. ‘I’ll be back this evening with a tub of that culinary abomination they like to call “Wurstsalat”. I’ll get it from your favourite butcher.’

  Nik rubbed his eyes. ‘Maybe my dreams will give me some insight into all this.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’ Balthasar waved goodbye on his way out the door and closed it behind him.

  Not long after, Nik was asleep.

  Nik woke with a start. Something had disturbed him. He reached down towards his hip to feel for his gun but then realised he was still lying in a hospital bed. A veil of moonlight glowed through the cloudless sky into his hospital room. From the corridor, he could hear the wheels of the trolley the night nurses used to distribute medication to patients. Nik was grateful he was no longer attached to the monitoring device or on a drip. The room smelled like the remains of his Wurstsalat – its packaging still lying on the side table. Just as he was about to close his eyes again, Nik noticed a quiet rustling. Somebody was standing to his right, beside the open curtain at the window.

  ‘Good to see you’re feeling better,’ came the voice of a young man.

  ‘Who’s there?’ He looked around for something he could use as a weapon but other than a glass water bottle, there was nothing suitable in reach.

  His visitor stepped into the moonlight. ‘I think you know me already.’

  ‘Simon?’ said Nik, surprised. He heaved himself up to a sitting position. ‘I’m so glad you’re still alive.’

  ‘Yeah, me too.’ He smiled.

  ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘To tell you to stop looking for me.’

  ‘You’re in a lot of danger,’ said Nik insistently.

  ‘I know that. But your search is just putting me in even more danger.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I’ll explain it to you some other time.’

  ‘You have to go to the police. You won’t survive this on your own.’

  ‘It’s gone pretty well until now, hasn’t it?’ Simon took a step closer to Nik. ‘Forget about me. Please.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘You have to,’ Simon insisted. ‘You have to.’ And with that, he turned around and walked silently towards the door. He stopped briefly to wave at Nik before slipping out into the corridor.

  Nik longed to stand up but he knew he wouldn’t even make it to the door without support. He sank back on to the bed and rang for the nurse, but by the time the woman had got to his room, the painkillers had set in again and he’d fallen asleep.

  When he woke the next morning, he wasn’t even sure Simon had really been there. He asked around, but nobody had seen a teenage boy come or leave. He must have moved like a ghost.

  Nik wheezed as he went up the stairs to the flat. He was sweating and his heart was racing but it felt good to be back on his legs again. Above the door hung a large sign in the shape of a red balloon with the words ‘Welcome Home!’ on it. As the pathologist opened the door, Kara instantly flew towards Nik, flapping her wings and squawking, before landing on his injured shoulder. She dug her claws into his skin and nipped at his ear, but for some reason, Nik took pleasure in the faint pain and stroked the parrot on the head. He pushed his suitcase into his bedroom and fell joyfully on to the couch. The seven days in the hospital had felt like an eternity. He was supposed to stay longer, but his mood had deteriorated to such an extent that it was thought better – for all parties involved – if he continued his recovery at home and received regular visits from his GP.

  His eyes were almost closed when his phone rang.

  ‘Welcome home!’ said Jon.

  ‘How did you know I was home?’ asked Nik. ‘I only got in two minutes ago.’

  ‘I tracked your phone.’

  ‘Of course you did,’ Nik mumbled.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you there’s no news,’ Jon continu
ed. ‘And everything else can wait until you’re well rested.’

  ‘I’ve been lying in bed for a week,’ said Nik. ‘That’s more rest than I’ve had in the last two years.’

  ‘Yes, and . . . ?’

  ‘Cui prodest scelus, is fecit,’ replied Nik.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘It’s from Seneca’s tragedy, Medea,’ explained Nik. ‘For whom the crime advances, he has done it.’

  ‘Yes, and we’ve been trying to come up with a solution for a long time now.’

  ‘Van Berk’s involvement only makes sense if he or his clients benefit from it. So let’s forget about the children’s past, who their parents are and how they came into the world. And let’s focus on van Berk’s motive.’

  ‘Monitoring him is difficult because we can’t get into his house,’ said Jon. ‘And although that email did manage to reach him, he doesn’t appear to use a private computer. And the bug on his car is only partly helpful: the car wasn’t used during the kidnappings and was standing in the villa driveway when all the crimes took place.’

  ‘The CID are covering everything else,’ said Nik. ‘Crime scene investigations, the forensic analyses, witness interviews . . . even the search for Simon and Daniela. We wouldn’t be able to do all that. So we’ll just have to fill in the gaps and cover the areas where the police can’t gain access.’

  ‘Like monitoring van Berk,’ concluded Jon.

  ‘Performing a search on his house was more than we could have expected from Naumann.’

  ‘He must be tired from the constant failures.’

  ‘Maximum resources have already been exhausted with van Berk. Unfortunately, there’s just no official reason to start surveillance procedures on him.’

  ‘Surely we can get one or two cameras around the house. If we do that, we could at least monitor his visitors.’

  ‘The street lamp number won’t work. Van Berk’s security will be too vigilant for that.’

  ‘I know some people who could sort something out for us,’ suggested Jon. ‘As per usual, it’s just a question of money.’

  ‘Good. Well, I’ll need various hire cars with tinted windows.’