Snow White Must Die (Bodenstein & Kirchhoff, #4)(95)

“That was probably Tobias and his father.” She reached inside her jacket and pulled out her service weapon from her holster. “There’s something fishy going on here.”

She cautiously opened the door to the milk room and peered inside. Then she went over to the old cowshed. At the open door they both signaled to keep quiet. Pia raised her pistol and went inside the stall. She looked around and froze. On a stool in the corner sat Tobias Sartorius. His eyes were closed and he was leaning against the wall.

“Shit,” Pia murmured. “I think we’re too late.”

* * *



Eight steps from the door to the wall. Four steps from the opposite wall to the bookshelf. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness, her nose to the stale, moldy smell. During the day a little light came through a tiny crack above the narrow cellar window that was sealed off with something from the outside. At least she could tell whether it was day or night. The two candles had burned down long ago, but she knew what was in the box on the shelf. Four bottles of water were still left; she had to ration them carefully because she had no idea how long they would have to last. The crackers had slowly dwindled, just like the canned sausage and chocolate. That’s all there was. At least she would lose a few pounds while she was here, wherever “here” was.

Most of the time she was so tired, so tired, that she simply fell asleep without being able to fight it off. When she was awake sometimes she’d be overcome by such despair that she’d pound her fists against the door, crying and yelling for help. After that she would fall back into melancholy indifference, lying for hours on the stinking mattress, and try to imagine life outside, the faces of Thies and Tobias. She recited poems to herself from memory, she did pushups and tai chi exercises—not easy to keep her balance in the dark—or sang as loud as she could all the songs she knew, just to keep from going nuts in this dank dungeon.

Eventually somebody would come and get her out of here. She was sure of that. It couldn’t be right that the Lord would let her die even before her eighteenth birthday. Amelie curled up on the mattress and stared into the darkness. One of the last pieces of chocolate was slowly melting on her tongue. Simply chewing and swallowing it would have felt like a crime. A leaden fatigue was creeping up inside her, sucking her memories and thoughts into a black hole. Over and over again she brooded about what had actually happened. How did she get to this horrible place? The last thing she remembered was that she had tried in vain to reach Tobias. But she couldn’t think of why.

* * *



Pia gave a start when Tobias opened his eyes. He didn’t move, but simply looked at her without saying a word. The bruises on his face had faded, but he looked tired and sick.

“What happened?” Pia asked, putting away her gun. “Where have you been all this time?”

Tobias didn’t respond. There were deep shadows under his eyes, and he looked much thinner than the last time she saw him. Laboriously, as if it took all his strength, he raised one arm and held out a folded piece of paper to her.

“What’s this?”

He didn’t say a word, so she took the paper out of his hand and unfolded it. Bodenstein stepped up next to her, and they read the handwritten lines together.



Tobi, you’re probably wondering why I’m writing to you after such a long time. In the past eleven years not a day has gone by when I didn’t think of you and feel guilty. You did my time in prison, and I let it happen. I detest the caricature of a human being I’ve become. I have not served God as I always wanted to do, but instead have become the slave of an idol. Eleven long years I’ve been running, and I forced myself not to look back at Sodom and Gomorrah. But now I am looking back. The running is over. I have been defeated. I have betrayed everything that used to mean so much to me. I made a pact with the Devil when I took the advice of my father and lied the first time. I betrayed and sold out you, my best friend. The price for me was eternal torment. Every time I see my face in the mirror I see you before me. What a coward I was! I killed Laura. Not on purpose, it was a stupid accident, but she was dead. I listened to my father and kept my mouth shut, even when it was clear that they were going to convict you for her death. I turned in the wrong direction, and it has led me straight to Hell. Since then I have never been happy. Forgive me, Tobi, if you can. I can’t forgive myself. May God be my judge.



—Lars




Pia looked up from the letter. Lars Terlinden had dated his farewell letter the day before and used the bank letterhead where he worked. But what had triggered this confession and his suicide?

“Lars Terlinden committed suicide yesterday,” said Bodenstein, clearing his throat. “We found his body this morning.”

Tobias did not react, only stared mutely into space.

“Well, then.” Bodenstein took the letter from Pia. “Now at least we know why Claudius Terlinden took over the debts of your parents and visited you in prison.”

“Come on.” Pia touched Tobias’s arm. He was wearing only a T-shirt and jeans, and his skin felt cold. “You’re going to catch your death out here. Let’s go inside.”

“They raped Laura when she came out of our house,” he said suddenly, tonelessly. “Right here in the stable.”

Bodenstein and Pia exchanged a startled look.

“Who?” asked Bodenstein.