Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(130)

“All the air shafts through which the water could have drained out were blocked and sealed with silicone,” the fire captain reported. “Incredible.”

But true. For Bodenstein and Pia there was no doubt who had done it.

“We’re going in now,” announced one of the firemen, who like two of his colleagues was wearing waterproof waders that reached to his navel.

“I’m coming with you.” Pia tossed her cigarette carelessly on the parquet floor and stamped it out.

“No, stay here,” Bodenstein called from the doorway. “You’ll catch your death.”

“At least put on some rubber boots.” The captain turned around. “Wait, I’ll get you some.”

Five minutes later Pia followed the three firemen through the knee-high standing water into the cellar. In the light from the flashlight they opened one door after another until they found the right one. Pia turned the key in the lock and shoved against the door, which opened into the room with a piercing screech. Her heart was pounding hard enough to burst, and her knees buckled from relief when the cone of light from the flashlight revealed the pale, dirty face of a girl. Amelie Fr?hlich blinked, blinded. Pia stumbled down the last two steps into the lower room, held out her arms, and grabbed hold of the hysterically sobbing girl.

“Calm down now,” she murmured, stroking Amelie’s matted hair. “Everything is going to be all right, Amelie. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

“But … but Thies,” Amelie gasped. “I … I think he’s dead!”

* * *



Everyone at the Regional Criminal Unit felt enormous relief. Amelie Fr?hlich had come through her ten days in the cellar of the old villa in K?nigstein without serious injury. She was exhausted, dehydrated, and had lost a lot of weight. But from a physical point of view she hadn’t suffered any ill effects from the terrible ordeal. She and Thies were taken to the hospital. The prognosis for Terlinden’s son was not good. He was in poor condition and was suffering from severe withdrawal symptoms. After the meeting in K-11 Bodenstein and Pia drove to the hospital in Bad Soden and were rather surprised to encounter Hartmut Sartorius and his son Tobias in the lobby.

“My ex-wife came out of her coma,” Sartorius declared. “We were able to talk with her briefly. She’s doing well, considering.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Pia smiled. Her gaze fell on Tobias, who seemed years older. He looked ill, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Where have you been?” asked Bodenstein, turning to Tobias Sartorius. “We’ve been very worried about you.”

“Nadia left him behind in a mountain cabin in Switzerland,” Hartmut Sartorius replied. “My son had to walk through the snow to the next village.” He put his hand on Tobias’s arm. “I still can’t believe that I was so wrong about Nadia.”

“We’ve arrested Ms. von Bredow,” Bodenstein said. “And Gregor Lauterbach has confessed to murdering Stefanie Schneeberger. In the next few days we’re going to demand that proceedings against you be reopened. You will be acquitted of any wrongdoing.”

Tobias Sartorius merely shrugged. It didn’t matter at all to him. The ten years he’d lost and the ruin of his family could never be repaired by any belated acquittal.

“Laura was still alive when the three boys threw her in the underground tank,” Bodenstein went on. “When they suddenly developed scruples and wanted to pull her back out, Lutz Richter stopped them by covering the tank with dirt. He was also the one who started a militia in Altenhain and made sure that everyone kept their mouths shut.”

Tobias didn’t react, but his father turned deathly pale.

“Lutz?”

“Yes.” Bodenstein nodded. “Richter also organized the attack on your son in the barn, and he and his wife were behind the graffiti on your house and the anonymous letters. They used all means possible to prevent the truth from coming out. When we arrested his son, Richter shot himself in the head. He’s still in a coma, but he’ll survive, and then he’ll be called to account in court.”

“And Nadia?” Hartmut Sartorius whispered. “I suppose she knew about all of this, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did,” said Bodenstein. “She was an eyewitness when Lauterbach killed Stefanie. And earlier she had convinced her friends to throw Laura in the tank. She could have averted Tobias’s conviction, but she said nothing. For eleven years. When he got out of prison, she wanted to make sure he didn’t come back to Altenhain.”

“But why?” Tobias’s voice sounded hoarse. “I don’t understand. She … she always wrote to me and waited for me and…”

He fell silent, shaking his head.

“Nadia was in love with you,” said Pia. “But you always rejected her. She found it very convenient that Laura and Stefanie vanished from the scene. She probably didn’t think they would actually convict you. When you were sent to prison, she decided to wait for you and win you for herself. But then Amelie showed up. Nadia saw her as a rival, but more than that, she was a genuine threat, because Amelie had obviously found out about something. Nadia disguised herself as a police officer so she could look for Thies’s paintings at the Fr?hlichs’ house.”

“Yes, I know. But she didn’t find them,” said Tobias.