Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(65)

Pia said nothing. Tobias had asked his father to tell the truth, although he must have known that it might tend to incriminate him. He should have kept quiet or used his father as an alibi as Hartmut had first tried to do. Had he refused to lie because it hadn’t worked the first time?

“I think Amelie discovered something that has a direct connection to the old case,” she said after a moment. “And I also believe that several people have an invested interest in making sure certain secrets don’t come out.”

“Nonsense.” Behnke shook his head emphatically. “This guy obviously loses control when he drinks. He left the party, Amelie happened to run into him, and he bumped her off.”

Pia raised her eyebrows. As usual, Behnke tended to reduce everything to the lowest common denominator.

“And what did he do with her body? He didn’t have a car.”

“So he claims.” Behnke nodded toward the whiteboard. “Take a look at the girl.”

Everyone automatically turned to look at the photo of Amelie that was tacked up on the bulletin board.

“She looks a lot like the kid that he killed in 1997. The guy is sick.”

“All right then,” Bodenstein decided. “Fachinger, you take care of the search warrants for the Sartorius house, car, and property. Kai, you keep working on the diary. The rest of you please remain available. We’ll resume the search tomorrow morning at eight and expand the radius.”

With a scraping of chairs the team adjourned. The mood was still one of muted optimism. The majority of the officers were in agreement with Behnke and hoped for results from the search of the Sartorius house. Pia waited until her colleagues had left the conference room, but before she could speak to her boss and present her reservations, Dr. Nicola Engel entered the room with two men in suits and ties.

“Just a moment,” she said to Behnke, who was about to leave. Pia caught the eye of Kathrin Fachinger and they left the room together.

“Ms. Fachinger? Please wait outside for me.” With that Dr. Engel closed the door behind them.

“Well,” said Kathrin in the lobby. “Now I can’t wait to see what happens.”

“Who was that?” Pia asked, astounded.

“Internal Affairs.” Kathrin actually seemed pleased. “I hope they tear that shithead a new *.”

Only then did Pia recall the incident with Behnke working in the bar, and Kathrin’s unsuccessful refusal to be his partner in the investigation.

“So how did he act toward you today?” she asked.

Kathrin only raised her eyebrows. “I probably shouldn’t tell you anything,” she replied. “He was absolutely disgusting. He chewed me out in front of everybody like some stupid girl. I kept my mouth shut. I’ve got only one thing to say: If he gets away with it this time, I’m going to ask for a transfer. I won’t put up with any more crap from that jerk.”

Pia nodded. She knew where Kathrin was coming from. But she had a hunch that this time Frank Behnke wasn’t going to get off lightly. Dr. Engel seemed to hold some sort of grudge against him from the time they’d worked together at K-11 in Frankfurt. Things didn’t look good for their colleague Mr. Asshole, and she wasn’t sorry about that at all.





Tuesday, November 18, 2008



The newspaper lay open before him on the desktop. Another girl had disappeared in Altenhain, shortly after the skeleton of Laura Wagner was found. Lars Terlinden was well aware that sitting in his glass office he was highly visible from the trading room and his outer office, so he resisted the impulse to bury his face in his hands. If only he had never returned to Germany! In his greed for more money he had left his high-salary job as a derivatives broker in London and had taken a position in management for a large Swiss bank in Frankfurt. That had caused quite a stir in the banking profession, because he was only twenty-eight years old. But everything led to success for the “German Wunderkind,” as The Wall Street Journal called him—and he was under the illusion that he was the biggest and best. But he’d been jolted back to reality, and from now on he would have to look his past in the eye and acknowledge what he had done out of cowardice.

Lars Terlinden uttered a deep sigh. His only mistake of any lasting consequence had been to secretly follow them home from the fair, driven by the insane need to confess his love to Laura. If only he had let it be! If only he had … He shook his head vehemently, folded up the paper, and tossed it in the wastebasket. It was no use brooding over the past. He needed to put all his attention on the problems confronting him at the moment. There was too much at stake for him to be distracted by all this old stuff. He had a family to think of and loads of financial obligations that he could only meet with great difficulty in these times of economic crisis. The gigantic villa in the Taunus had not been paid off, or the vacation home on Mallorca, and the lease payments for his Ferrari and his wife’s station wagon were due every month. He felt caught in a spiral again, just like back then. And he could feel more and more clearly that this current spiral was hurling him downward at breathtaking speed. To hell with Altenhain!

* * *



For the past three hours Tobias had been sitting in front of the building on Karpfenweg and staring into the water of the harbor basin. He wasn’t bothered by the unpleasant cold or by the skeptical looks of the residents of the building who suspiciously scrutinized his battered face as they passed by. He couldn’t stand being at home anymore, and he couldn’t think of anyone to talk to but Nadia. And he had to talk or he was going to explode. Amelie had disappeared. In Altenhain the police were turning over every rock in a huge search effort, just as they’d done before. And once again, he thought he was innocent, but doubt gnawed at him with sharp little teeth. The damned alcohol! He was never going to touch a drop again. He heard heels clicking behind him. Tobias raised his head and recognized Nadia coming toward him with rapid steps, her cell phone at her ear. All of a sudden he asked himself whether he would even be welcome. Her stylish appearance merely amplified the oppressive feeling of inadequacy that came over him every time he was with her. He felt like a bum in his worn, cheap leather jacket and with his beat-up face. Maybe it would be better to get out of here and never come back.