Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(51)

“What can I do for you?”

“Is your son here?”

“No. He went for a walk. But please come in.”

Pia followed him through the house into the kitchen, which like the grounds now looked considerably cleaner than on her last visit. Why did people always take the police into their kitchen?

* * *



Deep in thought, Amelie walked along the edge of the woods, hands in her jacket pockets. The heavy rain the night before had been followed by a calm, mild day. Thin veils of mist hovered over the orchards; the sun found its way through the gray clouds, making the fall colors of the forest glow. On the branches of the deciduous trees the last leaves shone red, yellow, and brown. She noticed the scent of acorns and damp earth, of a fire that someone had lit in one of the meadows. Amelie, child of the big city, inhaled the fresh, clear air deep into her lungs. She felt more alive than she could remember, and she had to admit that life in the country definitely had its pleasant sides. Below in the valley lay the village. How peaceful it looked from a distance. A car crawled like a red ladybug along the street and vanished in the maze of tightly packed houses. On the wooden bench by the old crossroads sat a man. As Amelie approached she recognized to her amazement that it was Tobias.

“Hey,” she said, stopping in front of him. He raised his head. Her astonishment then turned to horror when she saw his face. Dark purple bruises covered the whole left side of his face, one eye was swollen shut, and his nose had grown to the size of a potato. A cut on his eyebrow had been taped shut.

“Hey,” he replied. They looked at each other for a moment. His beautiful blue eyes were glassy and he was in a lot of pain, that was obvious. “They ambushed me. Last night, in the barn.”

“Oh great.” Amelie sat down beside him. For a while neither of them said a word.

“You really ought to go to the cops,” she said hesitantly, not entirely convinced. He snorted in derision.

“Not on your life. Do you happen to have a cigarette?”

Amelie dug in her backpack and came up with a crumpled cigarette pack and a lighter. She lit two cigarettes and handed him one.

“Last night Jenny Jagielski’s brother showed up pretty late with his pal, fat Felix, at the Black Horse. They sat around in a corner with two other guys and were laughing about something,” Amelie said without looking at Tobias. “And at the usual game of poker at the regulars’ table, old Pietsch was missing, along with Richter from the store, and Traugott Dombrowski. They didn’t show up until quarter to ten.”

“Hmm,” Tobias said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

“Maybe it was some of them.”

“Probably so,” said Tobias indifferently.

“Yeah, but … if you know who might have done it…” Amelie turned her head and met his gaze. She looked away quickly. It was much easier to talk to him if she didn’t look him in the eye.

“So why are you on my side?” he asked suddenly. “I did ten years in the slammer because I killed two girls.”

His voice didn’t sound bitter, only tired and resigned.

“I did three weeks in juvie because I lied for a friend and claimed that the dope the cops found was mine,” said Amelie.

“What are you trying to say?”

“That I don’t believe you killed those two girls.”

“Nice of you.” Tobias bent over and his face contorted. “I have to remind you that there was a trial with a pile of evidence that all pointed to me.”

“I know.” Amelie shrugged. She took another drag on her cigarette, then flicked the butt into the meadow on the other side of the gravel road. She had to tell him about those paintings. But how to begin? She decided on a roundabout way.

“Did the Lauterbachs live here back then?” she asked.

“Yes,” Tobias said in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s a picture,” said Amelie. “Actually several of them. I’ve seen them, and I think Lauterbach is in three of them.”

Tobias gave her a look that was both interested and puzzled.

“So, I think there’s somebody who witnessed what really happened back then,” Amelie added after a brief pause. “Thies gave me pictures that…”

She fell silent. A car was coming up the narrow road at high speed, a silver station wagon. The gravel crunched under the wide tires when the Porsche Cayenne stopped right in front of them. A beautiful blonde climbed out. Amelie jumped up and shouldered her backpack.

“Wait!” Tobias stretched out his arm to her imploringly and stood up with a pained expression. “What kind of pictures? What’s going on with Thies? Nadia is my best friend. You can tell her too.”

“No, I’d rather not.” Amelie gave the woman a skeptical look. She was very slim and made an elegant impression with her tight jeans, the turtleneck sweater, and the beige down vest with the prominent logo of an expensive designer label. Her smooth blond hair was pulled back in a knot, and she had a concerned look on her elegantly proportioned face.

“Hello!” the woman called, coming closer. She scrutinized Amelie briefly, giving her a suspicious look, then turned her undivided attention to Tobias.

“Oh my God, sweetheart!” She put her hand softly on his cheek. At the sight of this intimate gesture Amelie felt a pang in her heart, and she took an immediate dislike to Nadia.