Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(117)



Nadia von Bredow gave Pia an astounded look with her grass-green eyes.

“How should I know?” Her surprise seemed genuine, but she wasn’t one of the best-paid actors in Germany for nothing.

“Because you drove off with him after Laura Wagner was buried instead of dropping him off with us for questioning.”

“Who said that?”

“Tobias’s father. So?”

The elevator arrived and the door slid aside. Nadia von Bredow turned to Pia and gave her a mocking smile.

“I hope you don’t believe everything he tells you.” She looked at Pia’s colleague. “The police: to serve and protect. Would you mind helping me get my luggage into the elevator?”

The man actually made a move to grab her suitcase, but at that instant Pia blew her top.

“Where is Amelie? What did you do with the girl?”

“Me?” Nadia von Bredow’s eyes widened. “Not a thing! Why would I do anything with her?”

“Because Thies Terlinden gave paintings to Amelie that clearly prove that you were not only present when your friend Laura was raped, but you also watched as Gregor Lauterbach had sex with Stefanie Schneeberger in Sartorius’s barn. Afterward, you beat Stefanie Schneeberger to death with a tire iron.”

To Pia’s surprise Nadia von Bredow began to laugh.

“Where did you hear such nonsense?”

Pia made an effort to control herself. She really wanted to grab the woman and give her a slap.

“Your friends J?rg, Felix, and Michael have confessed,” she said. “Laura was still alive when you gave them orders to get rid of her. You must have been afraid that Amelie had found out the truth through Thies and his paintings. That’s why it was in your interest to get rid of her too.”

“My God.” Nadia remained totally unmoved. “Even screenwriters couldn’t think up such an outrageous story. I saw that girl Amelie only once, and I have no idea where she is.”

“You’re lying. You were in the parking lot of the Black Horse and you threw Amelie’s backpack in the bushes.”

“Oh, really?” Nadia von Bredow looked at Pia with raised eyebrows, as if she were unbearably bored. “Who says so?”

“You’ll see.”

“I know how to do a few things,” she replied sarcastically. “But being two places at the same time, that’s something I haven’t mastered. I was in Hamburg on that Saturday, and I have witnesses.”

“Who?”

“I can give you their names and phone numbers.”

“What were you doing in Hamburg?”

“Working.”

“Not true. Your manager told us that you had no shoot that evening.”

Nadia von Bredow glanced at her expensive watch and made a face, as if she’d wasted enough time.

“I was in Hamburg to MC a gala together with my colleague Torsten Gottwald for around four hundred guests, and it was taped by North German TV,” she said. “I can’t give you the phone numbers of all the guests that were present, but I can give you those of the director, Torsten, and several others. Would that be proof enough that I couldn’t have been running around in a parking lot in Altenhain at the same time?”

“Save your sarcasm,” Pia snapped back. “If you’re worried about your suitcase, my colleague will gladly carry it for you to our car.”

“Oh, that’s rich. The police are offering taxi service now.”

“With the greatest of pleasure,” Pia replied coldly. “And it takes you straight to your cell.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Nadia von Bredow seemed to be slowly realizing that she was in serious trouble. A deep furrow appeared between her carefully plucked eyebrows. “I have an important appointment in Hamburg.”

“Not anymore. For now you’re under arrest.”

“Why, if I may ask?”

“Because you willingly collaborated in the death of your classmate Laura Wagner.” Pia smiled smugly. “You must know that from your film scripts. It’s also called accessory to murder.”

* * *



The two plainclothes colleagues put Nadia von Bredow in the back seat and drove off in the direction of Hofheim. Then Pia tried once more to reach Bodenstein. Finally he picked up.

“Where the heck are you?” Pia asked with annoyance. She was clamping her cell phone between her ear and shoulder as she fished for the seatbelt. “I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour and a half. You don’t have to come to Frankfurt. I just arrested Nadia von Bredow and sent her off to the station.”

Bodenstein said something, but his voice was so indistinct that she couldn’t understand him.

“I can’t hear you,” she said peevishly. “What’s going on?”

“… had an accident … waiting for the tow truck … fairgrounds exit … gas station…”

“Oh no, that’s all we need. Just wait there, I’ll pick you up.”

Swearing, Pia punched off the call and raced off. She felt like she was standing all alone in a big hall, at the precise moment when she couldn’t allow herself any mistakes or lose her perspective. One tiny slipup and the case would be ruined. She floored it. The city streets were nearly empty of traffic on this early Sunday morning, and it barely took her ten minutes to navigate the distance through the Gutleut district to the main train station and from there out to the fairgrounds. It would have taken her half an hour on a weekday.

Nele Neuhaus's Books