Arrhythmia (15 page)

We left the police station, and I was sure that within just a few hours all of Wollbach would know about the crime.

Lovely.

Vera took me straight to an ER to have my injuries documented. Since I in no way wanted my colleagues to see me in my present state, we chose a hospital in a neighboring town. She didn’t once complain about the half-hour ride, and I was grateful for her understanding.

I tried to tell myself that the whole catastrophe had brought about something good, namely an opportunity to spy on another ER.

At first glance, everything looked exactly like mine. The same was true at second glance.

It was the same organized chaos and frantic activity, the same impatient whiners who were always ready to start a small revolt.

Today, the troublemaker was an older woman, most likely retired, who slowly but surely made me lose my cool. First, she declared that she had only stubbed her little toe and it wasn’t really all that bad. Still, she thought, it might need to be looked at. Better safe than sorry, right?

Once she’d been there about half an hour, though, it started.

Why were they taking so long?

Had the people inside forgotten about us?

No one had been called up in an eternity!

Were they all taking a coffee break or something?

By then, I had reached my limit.

“Have you injured your eyes as well, or have you just not noticed the two ambulances that passed us?” I asked with saccharine sweetness.

There was a tense and collective holding of breath in the room. The woman immediately grew red.

“Really, how dare you?” she asked, outraged.

“How dare I? Do you really think your shitty little toe should be given precedence over a traffic accident?”

She gasped for air. “The nerve!”

“No, you have nerve. If you have nothing better to do on a Sunday than come to the ER with such a shitty little injury, then you had damn well better be prepared to wait!”

“Oh really? So you think that you deserve to be here more than I do?”

“You know something? Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I do. I need a medical certificate because yesterday I was attacked, beaten up, and almost raped,” I said severely, looking provocatively at the old battle-ax. “So I do believe that my suffering trumps yours, don’t you agree? And by the way, it makes no difference whether your little toe is broken or not. Toes have to heal by themselves. So you could really save yourself the trouble of waiting and the rest of us a lot of bother.”

The woman opened and closed her mouth a few times. Then she rushed out of the waiting room with unexpected speed and disappeared. The other patients gave me a little round of applause and saw me as their heroine. I had no sooner taken my bow than I was called into the treatment room.

It was my good fortune that an experienced attending physician was on call, and she handled my case professionally and without drama. She examined me, saw to it that I received fresh dressings, and had photographs taken of my injuries. After a brief discussion, she even persuaded me to get X-rayed, telling me that refusing could be detrimental to my case in court.

Of course, there were no fractures and, after two hours, I left the ER with Vera, the ER report, and a sick note.

Yes, it really was exactly like our ER.

Chapter 17

I wandered aimlessly around in my apartment, cell phone in hand.

I had to call Desiderio and ask him to make a statement to the police. Simple. There was really only one sentence I had say. Why was I making such a fuss?

So, go for it: dial the number, get the connection, speak . . . Why was that so hard?

Because I was a coward, the first person I called was Sandra. I briefly explained to her that I’d been in an accident and had a doctor’s excuse for a week and that after that I would be in touch. She wanted to know what kind of accident, but I got out of being specific by telling her that I was still too flustered at the moment and that I would fill her in as soon as I could. She reluctantly accepted my excuse and wished me a speedy recovery.

After that, I took my phone for another walk around the apartment.

So ridiculous!

I dialed Desiderio’s number, only to kill the call before it could go through. Next, I typed a text message and deleted it.

No, I owed him a real phone call, not some impersonal text message.

In all, it took me five attempts before I nervously held the cell phone up to my ear and listened for the ring.

“Hello?” Desiderio answered on the third ring and startled me.

“Hello?” he repeated because I had still not said anything. He sounded worried. “Lena?”

Ack!

“Hello?” I squeaked and smacked my forehead in irritation at myself.

“Can you hear me? I think we might have a bad connection.”

“Now it’s fine, yeah.”

“Hi.”

Silence.

“What’s up?” he finally asked. Somehow, I knew he was grinning.

“Uh, oh yes. I just wanted you to know that I went to the police today and so I wanted to ask you if you could give a statement as well? But Niederhuber said tomorrow is fine if you’re too busy, of course. They probably don’t do very much on a Sunday. Well, anyway, I don’t know what your schedule looks like tomorrow, but . . . can you do it?”

I sputtered out the words in one breath. I almost thought I could hear Desiderio laughing softly. Maybe I was just imagining it.

“Of course, I’ll do that,” he answered. “Who is Niederhuber?”

“Oh, he’s the officer who took down my statement.”

“Is he the one I have to see?”

“Uh, no idea. Hm, I think it doesn’t really matter? They all know about the case. They’ve never had a case like this in Wollbach, I think, judging by his reaction.”

“Well, I would hope not.” He sighed. “How are you doing?”

His question wasn’t just a formality. He really wanted to know, and I could hear it in his voice.

“Fabulous,” I replied. “I look like the hunchback of Notre Dame, but otherwise I can’t complain.”

“No,
you
can’t, of course,” he enunciated with audible sarcasm.

I recalled the scene the night before in my bathroom.

“OK then, um, I have to go,” I said hastily, because I was
so
very busy after all.

“It’s all right, Quasimodo.”

“OK then, see you later. Ciao!” I jabbered and hung up without waiting for his answer. Then I hit my head several times with my phone.

Man, what kind of idiot was I? First I fling my arms around the guy’s neck while I’m buck naked, and next I’m incapable of carrying on a normal telephone conversation with him?

I dropped onto the couch and buried my head in the pillows, for which I was promptly punished by a throbbing pain in my cheek. I noticed the dressing material still lying on the coffee table.

I could see Desiderio before me as he applied the bandage and breathed a kiss on it.

For God’s sake!

Slowly but surely, this whole thing was moving in the completely wrong direction. Entirely wrong direction. Like wrong-way driving on the autobahn.

That considerate, loving guy I’d met yesterday had absolutely nothing to do with the arrogant pretty boy I’d been stubbornly fighting off for weeks.

If I ever get you into my bed, I’m not going to let go of you any time soon,
he’d said. Or something to that effect.

The more I thought about it, the more exciting this statement sounded.

But had he meant it?

Sure, his efforts the past day would have been truly ludicrous if his goal really was just to keep his conquest statistics looking good, and yet my almost pathological self-preservation mechanism still had me in suspicious mode.

I jumped when I heard the doorbell. I must have dozed off on the couch. The clock on the wall told me that it was sixty thirty in the evening.

The doorbell rang again.

I sleepily staggered to the speaker and croaked, “Yes?”

“Lena? May I come up?”

Desiderio!

All at once I was wide awake. I jumped in a circle, completely hysterical. Then I answered “OK” in a shrill voice and pressed the button.

I frantically checked my face in the hallway mirror. Jogging pants, baggy shirt, hair all over the place, not to mention the iridescent shiner—all in all, a hopeless case.

Still, I resigned myself to my fate and yanked open the door just as Desiderio was about to knock. He was standing there with his hand raised, looking at me.

I looked back at him.

He smiled.

I swallowed.

He looked even more fantastic that I remembered. Faded jeans, simple sweatshirt, tousled hair . . . and the best part about it was that he somehow appeared sheepish. That look really suited him perfectly.

“Hi. Sorry to drop in so unexpectedly,” he said, slowly lowering his hand,” but I figured you might be hungry, and since I was already out and about . . .” He timidly handed me a pizza box.

My mouth started to water, and I realized that I was indeed hungry. Very hungry, in fact. I eyed the box greedily and said only, “Cool!”

We looked at each other again. Then we simultaneously broke into laughter.

“It seems I got here just in time, huh?” he said with a grin, and the initial awkwardness vanished.

“No kidding. You’re my knight in shining armor. Again.”

I asked him in and led him into the living room. I nervously tried to straighten my baggy clothes.

Desiderio looked at me with a smirk. “You don’t look a bit like Quasimodo with that black eye of yours. You remind me more of Rocky.”

I growled and then I couldn’t help laughing.

“Do you want to sit outside?” I asked to downplay my awkwardness.

“I’d love to.”

I pointed to the balcony door. “Coke or something else?”

“Coke sounds fine.”

He stepped onto the balcony while I rushed into the kitchen. As I was placing glasses, Coke, and plates on a tray, I noticed that my hands were shaking with excitement.
Stay calm. All we’re going to do is eat pizza and have a conversation like civilized people.

Sure, but it wasn’t as simple as that . . .

I resolved to do my best and balanced the tray as I carried it outside.

“Do you need silverware?” I asked Desiderio as I set the tray on the table.

“Please!” he pretended to be indignant.

“Oh right, I forgot that Italians have no table manners,” I joked as I sat down.

“Don’t get fresh now, or no pizza for you,” he threatened and opened the box.

Mmm . . . Ham, salami, pepperoni, and extra cheese.

“I’ll be good,” I promised, and my stomach growled in anticipation. Loudly. Embarrassed, I placed my hand on it. “Oh.”

Desiderio giggled playfully and handed me a huge piece of the delicious-smelling pizza.

“Don’t worry. I’m a doctor. I know all about the noises the human body makes.”

“Well, in that case.” I took the first bite. “Ouch,” I immediately moaned with a full mouth and fanned myself.

“Fresh out of the oven,” he explained, watching with amusement as I tried to cool my mouth. “Not as good as grandma’s, but the best you can find in Wollbach.

I treated my burn with a sip of Coke and inspected the name on the box. “Yeah, Condutto really is the best pizzeria around.”

For a while, we ate in silence, apparently because we were unable to find a good topic of conversation.

“I went to the police station earlier,” Desiderio finally began.

“Already?”

“Yes. I figured the sooner, the better. Anyway, they’ve recovered the knife.”

“I see. OK.”

“By the way, that Niederhuber guy is still all excited. One thing is for sure: he is really throwing himself into this because it’s a change from his boring everyday job.”

“I’m so happy I’m saving him from the doldrums of traffic control,” I said bitterly.

He looked at me and cocked his head. “Admit it: you only tangled with that dude to get in good with Niederhuber!”

His small attempt to cheer me up did, in fact, lift my mood.

“Of course.” I nodded. “Are you jealous now?”

“Hell yes.”

Desiderio smiled. I hid behind my pizza.

“What kind of Bruce Lee stunt was that yesterday, by the way?” I asked. “Was that karate, or have you just watched too many Tarantino movies?”

“Not quite,” he grinned. “I used to do kickboxing and even competed a little.”

“I see,” was all I said, even though I was pretty darn impressed. “And what about now?”

“Well, with a job like mine, it’s not exactly great to show up with black eyes or lacerations all the time.”

“Right. That’s why I got a doctor’s note.” I studied his face. “Lacerations? But you don’t have any scars.”

He winked at me mischievously. “At least not on my face. I’ve learned to cover that pretty well. Would you like to see my back?”

Help!

“Let me finish eating first before you start your striptease.” I fended him off, trying to sound bored.

“Sure thing.” He leaned back and surveyed my neighborhood. “First-class balcony. Very pleasant. Incidentally, the old geezer over there is watching us from his window with a pair of binoculars.”

“I know. He always does that,” I sighed. “If it bothers you, just wave at him and he’ll stop for a few hours.”

“Really?” Desiderio tried a wave, and Mr. Kaltenberger was gone. “Unbelievable. He pulls that shit all the time? Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Nah, it’s probably the only highlight in his life at this point, and I can’t bring myself to begrudge him that. When he looks really down, sometimes I lie out here and sun myself in my bikini for a few hours, and soon he’s looking much better.”

“You’re just too kind,” he said with a chuckle.

“Well, it’s a kind of helper syndrome. It can get really tough sometimes, especially in the winter.”

We giggled and both got lost in our thoughts for a while.

“Do you think they’ll find that guy?” I finally asked in a conversational tone.

“I hope so.”

“You know, I had the strong impression it wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that,” I said quietly. “He wasn’t acting on impulse. On the contrary, it seemed like he knew exactly what . . .” My voice failed.

Desiderio silently took my hand and just held it. This small gesture was so incredibly comforting that I managed to continue speaking. All of a sudden, all my anxiety and emotions about the attack gushed out of me.

“He was so fucking strong. I didn’t have a chance. I’ve never felt so helpless in my whole life! When he kissed me, I felt repulsed like I never have before and, at the same time, I couldn’t do anything about it—do you understand? It was horrible. The worst of it was when I felt the bulge in his pants. At that point, I knew exactly what was in store. God, it was so disgusting! I would practically rather have died than have him force himself on me.”

Tears of rage ran down my face. My free hand was clenched and shaking. All this time, Desiderio had been listening to me without moving. Now he leaned forward and softly wiped my uninjured cheek.

“You fought back bravely,” he said solemnly. “Your defense thoroughly thwarted the scumbag’s plans. I’m proud of you.”

My breath halted, and a warm feeling spread across my chest.

I’m proud of you . . .

I was touched by his words. Particularly because he was looking deep into my eyes and I was sure that he was telling the truth. It was by far the most beautiful thing any man had ever said to me.

All of a sudden, I felt completely unsettled again. I hastily withdrew from him and distractedly dried my tears with my oversized T-shirt. He immediately noticed my uneasiness and gently released my hand, granting me an adequate safety zone.

“Do you want the last piece?” he inquired as though nothing had happened.

I silently shook my head.

“I’m full too. You should keep it for later.” He carefully closed the box. “Since not everyone around here has the day off tomorrow, I’m going to go home now and fall into my bed. I’m beat.”

“If you really want to play hooky, I could give you a shiner as well.”

“Ah, no, thanks. I think I’d rather take four hours in the OR with Dr. Reinmann.”

He began clearing the dishes and stacking them on the tray.

“Just leave it,” I said quickly. “I’ll do it.”

“OK.”

I took him to the door in silence.

He was already in the stairwell when I managed to say what was really on my mind: “Thank you. For everything.”

“My pleasure.” Desiderio gave me his most breathtaking smile. “Call me if you need anything, all right?”

“I will. Good night.”

I rapidly closed the door before I had the chance to do something rash. Because, in reality, I didn’t want him to leave at all. I wanted him to stay. With me. And caress me until I fell asleep. I was lost in thought as I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. Then I curled up on the couch and watched a little television. At least, I tried to, but somehow the images on the screen always seemed magically to be transformed into a handsome face with blue eyes and dark hair.

It was maddening.

An hour later, my cell phone beeped and announced a text message.

Sweet dreams.

Oh yes, I would at least have those tonight! If I could fall asleep at all, that is.