Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(129)

“I’ll call for backup and a locksmith.” Bodenstein pulled out his cell. If Dr. Lauterbach was inside the villa, she probably wouldn’t give up without a fight. In the meantime Pia walked along the wall of the spacious estate but found only a smaller locked gate that was overgrown with thorny brush. Minutes later a locksmith showed up. Two patrol cars from K?nigstein parked farther up the street, and the officers approached on foot.

“The villa has been empty for a few years,” said one of the officers. “Old Mrs. Scheithauer lived at the Rosenhof retirement home in Kronberg. She was way over ninety when she died in April.”

“And then she left the whole place to her doctor,” Pia noted. “Why do some people have all the luck?”

The locksmith had finished his job and wanted to leave, but Bodenstein asked him to wait a moment. The first tiny snowflakes came floating down as they walked up the gravel path. The castle ruins on top of the hill had vanished in the clouds; the whole world around them seemed to have ceased to exist. Another patrol car caught up with them and stopped in front of the entrance. The front door was also locked, and the locksmith got to work.

“Do you hear that?” asked Pia, who had eyes and ears like a lynx. Bodenstein listened, but he heard only the rustle of the wind in the tall firs in front of the villa. He shook his head. The door was opened and he stepped into a large, dim entry hall. It smelled deserted and musty.

“Nobody here,” he said, disappointed. Pia went past him and touched the light switch. It made a bang and sparks flew out of the switch. The two officers from K?nigstein grabbed their weapons. Bodenstein’s heart was in his throat.

“Just a short circuit,” said Pia. “Sorry.”

They moved on from room to room. The furniture was covered with white sheets, the shutters closed in front of the tall windows. Bodenstein crossed the big room that opened off the entry hall on the left side. The parquet floor creaked under his feet. He pulled aside the damp, moth-eaten velvet curtains, but the room didn’t get much brighter.

“I hear a rushing noise,” said Pia from the doorway. “Everybody be quiet!”

The officers fell silent. And now Bodenstein actually heard it too. There was water running down in the cellar. He went back and followed Pia to a door underneath the curved stairway.

“Has anybody got a flashlight with them?” she asked, trying to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. One of the patrol officers handed Pia a flashlight.

“It’s not locked but it won’t open.” Pia bent down and shone the light at the floor. “Look at this. Somebody put silicone under the door. Why would they do that?”

The colleagues from K?nigstein knelt down and dug out the silicone with their pocket knives. Pia yanked on the door until it sprang open. The sound of running water was louder now. Five or six dark shapes hurried past her and into the depths of the house. “Rats!” Bodenstein jumped back and bumped into one of the officers so hard that he almost fell over.

“You don’t have to KO me just for that,” the uniformed colleague complained. “You almost landed on my foot.”

Pia ignored them. She was lost in her own thoughts.

“Why was the cellar door sealed with silicone?” she asked as she went down the stairs, shining the flashlight in front of her. After ten steps she stopped in her tracks.

“Shit!” she swore. She was standing up to her ankles in icy water. “A water line broke! That’s why we got a short circuit. The circuit breaker must be down here.”

“I’ll call the water company,” said one of the officers. “They’ll have to shut off the main line.”

“And they’d better call the fire department too.” Bodenstein was keeping a wary eye out for more rats. “Come on, Pia. Lauterbach isn’t here.”

Pia wasn’t listening to him. Alarm bells were going off in her head. The house was empty and belonged to Daniela Lauterbach, who in the past week had suddenly canceled appointments for potential buyers to see the house. And not because she wanted to hide out here herself. Since her shoes and stockings were already wet anyway, Pia went farther down the steps. The water glugged and the cold hit her like a shock.

“What are you doing?” Bodenstein called after her. “Come on out of there!”

Pia bent over and shone the light around the corner in the dark. The water was up to less than ten inches below the ceiling. Pia went down another step, holding on to the railing with one hand. Now she was up to her hips in water.

“Amelie!” she yelled, teeth chattering. “Amelie? Hello?”

She held her breath and strained to listen; the cold was bringing tears to her eyes. Suddenly she froze. A jolt of adrenaline shot violently through her body, as if from an electric shock.

“Help!” she heard over the steady rush of the water. “Help! We’re in here!”

* * *



Smoking impatiently, Pia paced up and down in the entry hall. She hardly noticed her wet clothes and shoes, she was so excited. Bodenstein preferred to wait outside in the falling snow until the flooded cellar was accessible. The thought of spending any time under the same roof with an armada of rats gave him the creeps. The water company had turned off the main line, and the men from the K?nigstein Volunteer Fire Department were pumping out the cellar with all the hoses they had, sending the water down the hill into the overgrown park. Thanks to an emergency generator they now had lights. Three ambulances had arrived, and the police had cordoned off the property.