Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(126)
“I like you,” he repeated her words from back then in a hoarse voice. “Do you feel like having sex?”
Nicola looked at him in surprise, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Why not?” She hadn’t forgotten their first conversation either. “I just have to make a quick trip to the toilet first.”
Monday, November 24, 2008
“You wore this same shirt and tie yesterday,” Pia noted with a sharp look when Bodenstein joined her in the still empty conference room. “And you haven’t shaved.”
“Your powers of observation are truly phenomenal,” he replied dryly, heading for the coffee machine. “In my hasty departure I unfortunately couldn’t take my whole wardrobe with me.”
“Right.” Pia grinned. “I always took you for somebody who would put on fresh clothes every day, even in the trenches. Or did you happen to take my advice?”
“Please, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Bodenstein’s expression was unreadable as he poured milk in his coffee. Pia was just about to reply when Ostermann appeared in the doorway.
“What bad news do you have for us today, Mr. Detective Superintendent?” asked Bodenstein. Ostermann gave first his boss, then Pia an annoyed look. They just shrugged.
“Tobias Sartorius called his father last night. He’s in a hospital in Switzerland,” said Ostermann. “Still no news of Amelie, Thies, or Dr. Lauterbach.”
Behind him Kathrin Fachinger appeared, followed by Nicola Engel and Sven Jansen.
“Good morning,” said the commissioner. “I’m bringing the reinforcements I promised. DI Jansen will work temporarily with the K-11 team, Bodenstein. If you have no objections.”
“That’s fine.” Bodenstein nodded to their colleague from the burglary division. He had accompanied Pia yesterday to interview Terlinden. Everyone sat down at the table. Only Nicola Engel excused herself and headed for the door. There she turned around and said, “Could I have a word with you in private?”
Bodenstein got up, followed her out to the hall, and closed the door behind him.
“Behnke obtained a temporary court order appealing his suspension and at the same time reported in sick,” said Nicola Engel in a low voice. “His legal adviser is a lawyer from the firm of Dr. Anders. How can he afford that?”
“Anders will take a case like that pro bono,” said Bodenstein. “All he cares about are the headlines.”
“Okay, we’ll wait and see what happens.” Nicola Engel looked Bodenstein up and down. “I also learned something else this morning. Actually I wanted to tell you this at a better moment, but before you hear it from someone else through a leak…”
He gave her a wary look. It could be anything, beginning with his suspension to the news that she would be taking over leadership of the National Criminal Police. It was typical of Nicola never to show her cards too soon.
“Congratulations on your promotion,” she announced to him to his surprise. “First Chief Detective Inspector Oliver von Bodenstein. Including a raise in your pay grade. What do you say to that?”
She smiled at him expectantly.
“Does this mean that I’ve slept my way to the top?” he replied. The commissioner grinned, but then turned serious.
“Do you regret last night?” she wanted to know.
Bodenstein cocked his head. “I wouldn’t say that,” he answered. “What about you?”
“Me neither. Although I don’t usually care for reheated food.”
He grinned, and she turned to go.
“Oh, Ms. Commissioner…”
She stopped.
“Perhaps … we could repeat it occasionally?”
Then she grinned too.
“I’ll think it over, Mr. Chief Detective. See you later.”
He watched her go until she turned the corner, then reached for the door handle. Suddenly and unexpectedly he was filled with an almost painful feeling of happiness. Not because he had avenged himself by cheating on Cosima—and with his boss to boot, whom she despised with all her heart—but because at this moment he felt freer than he’d ever felt in his life. Last night his future had unfolded before him with breathtaking clarity, revealing undreamt-of possibilities, after he’d been trudging around for a week feeling deeply hurt and full of self-pity. Not that he had ever felt trapped at Cosima’s side, but now he sensed that even though his marriage had failed, it didn’t mean that his life was over. Quite the opposite. Not everyone at the age of fifty got another chance.
* * *
Amelie’s legs felt like they had frozen to ice, yet she was sweating all over. With all her might she tried to keep Thies’s head above water. The buoyancy of the water, which had now risen to a good sixteen inches above the top shelf, had made it possible for her to shift his body to a sitting position. Fortunately the bookshelf was screwed solidly into the wall, or it probably would have tipped over long ago. Gasping, Amelie inhaled and tried to ease her cramped muscles. With her right arm she held Thies tight while with her left she tried to touch the ceiling. A foot and a half of air was left, no more.
“Thies!” she whispered urgently, shaking him. “You have to wake up, Thies!”
He didn’t react. She couldn’t possibly move him higher, she wasn’t strong enough. But in a couple of hours his head would be underwater. Amelie was close to giving up. It was so cold! And she had such a terrifying fear of drowning. Images from Titanic kept popping up in her mind. She had seen that movie half a dozen times and had blubbered when Leonardo DiCaprio slipped off the plank and sank into the deep. The waters of the North Atlantic could hardly be any colder than this shit-brew here.