Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(132)

“Shall I give you something to calm your nerves?” she asked with concern.

“No, I’m okay,” replied Pia. “But could I maybe wash my hands somewhere?”

“Yes, of course. Come with me.”

Her knees shaking, Pia followed the doctor. She kept an eye out for Tobias Sartorius, but didn’t see him anywhere. Where was he? How would he cope with this horrible occurrence, seeing his father die right before his eyes? Pia was usually able to keep a cool head and remain composed even in a crisis, but the fate of Tobias Sartorius had shaken her to her core. Little by little he had lost everything that a human being can lose.

* * *



“Tobi!” Amelie sat up in bed and smiled in disbelief. She had thought of him so often during the past horrible days and nights; she had talked to him in her mind, imagining how it would be to see him again. The memory of the warmth in his sea-blue eyes had kept her from going crazy, and now he was right here in the room. Her heart skipped wildly with joy. “Oh, I’m so happy that you came to visit me! I’ve wanted so much…”

Her smile faded when in the dim light she noticed Tobias’s expression. He closed the door of the hospital room behind him and came closer with hesitant steps to stand at the foot of her bed. He looked terrible, deathly pale, with swollen, bloodshot eyes. Amelie could tell that something dreadful must have happened.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“My father is dead,” he whispered. “It just happened … down in the lobby. Terlinden was coming toward us … and my father … and he…”

Tobias fell silent. His breathing was ragged, and he pressed his fist against his mouth, fighting for self-control. In vain.

“Oh God.” Amelie stared at him in horror. “But how … I mean, why…”

Tobias grimaced and doubled up, his lips quivering.

“Dad tried to … attack that … bastard.” His voice was toneless. “And Terlinden shoved him … against a glass door…”

He broke off. Tears were streaming down his haggard face. Amelie tossed back the covers and held out her arms to him. Tobias sat down on the edge of the bed and allowed Amelie to pull him close. He pressed his face against her neck, his body shaking with wild, desperate sobs. Amelie held him tight. Her heart ached for him as she realized that Tobias had nobody left in the world—she was the only one he could turn to in his boundless grief.

* * *



Tobias Sartorius had vanished without a trace from the hospital. Bodenstein sent a patrol to his parents’ house, but so far he hadn’t shown up there. Claudius Terlinden had gone home with his wife. He was not directly responsible for Hartmut’s death; it had been an accident, an unfortunate accident with a tragic result. Bodenstein glanced at his watch. Today was Monday, so Cosima would be at her mother’s. The bridge nights at the Rotkirch house were a dependable ritual going back decades, so he was pretty sure he wouldn’t run into her when he picked up some fresh clothes before he drove back to the station. Dirty and sweaty, he was longing for a good long shower.

To his relief the house was dark, only the little lamp on the chest in the hall was burning. The dog greeted him with effusive joy. Oliver petted him and looked around. Everything seemed so normal and so painfully familiar, but he knew this wasn’t home anymore. Before he could get sentimental he determinedly climbed the stairs to the bedroom. He turned on the light and was shocked to see Cosima sitting in the easy chair by the window. His heart skipped a couple of beats.

“Why are you sitting here in the dark?” he asked, because he couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“I wanted to think in peace and quiet.” She squinted in the glare of the light, then stood up and stepped behind the chair as if seeking protection.

“I’m sorry that I lost my temper like that this morning,” Oliver began after a brief pause. “It … was all a bit too much for me.”

“That’s all right. It was my fault,” Cosima replied. They looked at each other without a word until the silence turned awkward.

“I just came by to pick up some clothes,” he said, and left the bedroom. How could he suddenly feel nothing at all for someone for whom he had felt nothing but love for twenty-five years? Was he fooling himself by resorting to some sort of emotional defense mechanism? Or was this simply proof that his feelings for Cosima had long since become nothing but habit? He realized that over the past few weeks and months they’d had numerous minor quarrels, and each time more of his love had faded. Oliver was surprised that he was able to analyze the situation with such clarity. He opened the hall closet and studied the suitcases standing there. He didn’t want to take any of the luggage that Cosima had used in her trips around the world. That’s why he decided on two dusty but brand-new hardshell suitcases that Cosima found too unwieldy.

As he was passing the door of Sophia’s room, he stopped. There should be time for a brief look in at the little one. He set down the suitcases and went into the room, which was illuminated by a small night-light next to the bed. Sophia was sleeping peacefully with her little thumb in her mouth, surrounded by her stuffed animals. Oliver looked at his youngest daughter and sighed. He bent over the bed, reached out his hand, and lightly touched the sleep-warm face of the child.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered softly. “But even for your sake I can’t pretend that everything is fine.”