Hidden Depths (10 page)

Chapter Thirteen
: Gunther

G
UNTHER
S
CHUKRAFFT WAS A
small man of 40. He had never married and lived next door to his disabled, 60-year-old mother, Marlene, on a council estate, a
plattenbauten
in the suburbs of Leipzig. At Torgau, he was the warden who had supervised the running of the library, distributing the books to the children as well as being a fully-fledged Musketeer. After Torgau's closure, his paedophilia went undiscovered and his crimes unpunished, and Gunther found work as senior librarian in his home town.

Neighbours thought well of Gunther. After his father died 10 years ago he looked after his mother, who had developed multiple sclerosis. She was gradually losing her ability to walk and Gunther was her dutiful and only son. The locals had no inkling of Gunther's past or private life because he had few friends. Apart from the Musketeers, he kept in touch with a few ex-Torgau colleagues and other paedophiles scattered around the country in a secret ring. His short trips away with the Musketeers raised few eyebrows as the explanation would be that he needed regular respite from looking after his wheelchair-bound mother, who was tended by professional carers during the day when he worked or when he went away. Gunther looked forward to his jaunts away: a few days of sexual abuse in a motor home with unsuspecting victims, shared with Horst and Harald.

Marlene had not met any of Gunther's friends and never suspected her son was anything other than a man who was shy with women. Gunther spoke about his friends occasionally and told her when he was going ‘fishing' and ‘hunting' with his ex-colleagues. She was always happy to have Gunther at home; he was a good son and she missed him when he went away. Their conversations after a trip away, usually followed the same pattern.

‘Did you have a good trip?'

‘Yes, Mutti.'

‘Where did you go this time?'

‘Rostock.'

‘Oh, lots of sea fishing then. What did you catch?'

‘Small fish. We fried them for supper in the motor home. Mutti, did you have a nice time?'

‘Yes. My carers are fine but it's nice to have you home.'

Gunther left home the same time every morning, driving to work on the other side of Leipzig. He returned at lunchtime to take his disabled mother for a walk in the park. He had no idea Felix, sporting a dark wig, was watching him, noting what time the library closed, which car Gunther drove and plotting his optimum form of attack. Once he had gathered enough information about his target's daily routine, Felix returned to Leipzig with his Onkel's gun.

The crepuscular light on the fallen autumn leaves scattered in the streets turned them assorted shades of pink, orange and yellow. Children trampled on them and gathered them in colourful heaps to playfully throw into the air or at one another. To catch falling leaves was an autumnal pleasure children could enjoy as the days in October grew shorter and colder.

Felix looked at his watch. 6 p.m. He wondered what Martha was doing in England and remembered how wonderful she smelt when he kissed her goodbye a few weeks ago. It would be over a month before he saw Martha again and he missed her. Inside the library in Leipzig the lights were being turned off. The library doors opened and a few members of staff trickled out and dispersed, bidding their colleagues goodnight before disappearing into the night. Gunther was the last one out, locking up the library before his walk across a dimly lit pathway to a car park. The streets were empty as Felix lay in wait. He put on his balaclava and gloves and primed his gun.

Click
.

Felix heard footsteps and quickly crouched down behind the Musketeer's car. As Gunther approached, he delved in his pockets for the keys. Suddenly, he felt a gun pushed against his temple.

‘Don't say a word, or I'll blow your brains out,' Felix instructed. ‘We're going for a ride. Give me the keys!'

Gunther wet himself. He had no choice other than to obey. He prayed someone would see what was going on with this masked man but there was no one in sight. Gunther fumbled with his car keys and passed them to the masked man.

‘My mother's expecting me, she's disabled. Please, what do you want with me?'

‘Schukrafft, your mother is of no concern to me.'

Gunther found this shocking. ‘You know my name?'

Felix swung out with the gun and hit Gunther on the head. He slumped to the ground and Felix bundled him into the back of the car, tying the Musketeer's hands and feet with boat rope and covering his mouth with duct tape. Driving lessons had come in useful. Felix drove with ease to the banks of Muggelsee and this time parked near the north jetty. He hoped to repeat the same ending for Gunther as Horst, using similar methods.

Gunther was stirring in the back as Felix ripped off the tape and dragged him to the water's edge. ‘Let's see how you like a darkened cellar, knee-deep in water,' Felix said, menacingly.

It was quiet and dark. The lights illuminating their evening came from the car headlamps and Felix's torch.

‘My mother will be worried,' Gunther pleaded.

‘Poor little mummy's boy. Does your mother know the truth about you?'

‘What do you mean?'

Felix's voice was cold and emphatic. ‘That you're a sodomite.'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘Do you think your mother would still love you if she knew the truth about you?'

‘You're mistaken. You've got the wrong man,' Gunther informed him.

Felix took out his boat knife. ‘I'm going to strip you. Stand still and don't try anything clever or I'll shove this knife up your arse!' he barked. ‘And empty your pockets.'

Gunther handed over his wallet and mobile phone whilst Felix slashed away at Gunther's clothes until the Musketeer was left in just his underpants.

‘I'm just a librarian. Believe me, my disabled mother will be very worried about me by now.'

‘What's your mother's pet name for you?'

‘Gunty… Why?'

‘I'll text her, tell her you'll be home late.'

Felix turned on the Musketeer's mobile and texted the following to Gunther's mother.

‘Mutti, gone for a drink with colleagues, don't worry. Gunty.'

The night air gave Gunther's wiry frame goosebumps. ‘Who are you? What do you want from me?'

‘Scheisse! I don't want anything! Don't you get it? I'm taking something from you!'

Gunther was afraid to know the answer. ‘What are you going to take from me?'

Felix snarled. ‘You'll see!' Grabbing at a handful of hair, he began hacking chunks off.

Gunther screamed.

‘Shut up!' Felix snapped and pushed Gunther into the cold water, where he fell on his knees.

‘Please, don't hurt me,' he pleaded.

Felix wrapped the hair cuttings in a tissue and placed it in his rucksack. He took out his Walkman radio cassette and switched on his recording of ‘Toreador' from Bizet's opera ‘Carmen'. No one was around and he turned up the music.

‘
Allons! En garde! Allons ! Allons ! Ah
!'

‘Dance!' Felix barked. Gunther started to jig about on his knees in the cold, muddy water, dancing awkwardly. He felt small, pathetic and afraid. Felix watched him, smiling behind his balaclava as he picked up Gunther's shredded clothes and shoved them into the boot of the car. He laughed and made a mock charge, like a bull at the quivering Gunther.

‘How's it feel, Gunther? To be stripped of your dignity?'

‘
Toreador, en garde! Toreador, Toreador…
'

‘I'm cold. Please stop!' he cried.

‘Stand up!' Felix bellowed.

Gunther watched the man in the balaclava charge at him, back and forth like a raging bull, simultaneously waving his knife menacingly and somehow managed with his feet still bound to haul himself up before toppling down again.

‘No one cares. You and your Musketeers didn't care about us kids at Torgau. Don't expect any sympathy from me.'

Gunther wet himself again. ‘Torgau? Were you one of my boys?'

‘Finally you confess!' Felix bellowed. ‘I've got the scars on my ears to prove it, branded by you!'

Gunther gulped out his words. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘Sorry you got caught, you mean…You're not much of a Musketeer now. Did you think you'd get away with it, you immoral coward?'

Felix ignored Gunther's pleas and slashed the knife at Gunther's ears. The Musketeer howled as his earlobes were ripped and the blood gushed.

‘
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant, qu'un oeil noir te regarde…
'

‘How's it feel to be branded?' Felix shouted in Gunther's ears.

Gunther's ears burned with pain. Stripped of his dignity, on his knees in cold water at the mercy of a madman, he was terrified. ‘I know what I did was wrong and I'm sorry.'

‘
Et que l'amour, t'attend, Toreador, l'amour t'attend.
'

‘You've ruined lives,' Felix told him, rinsing his knife in the water.

‘You can have all my savings, anything! Please, let me go,' Gunther wailed.

‘I don't want your blood money!' Felix yelled and picked up his gun. ‘Your sense of remorse is touching. Horst had none.'

‘Horst?' Gunther asked. ‘Horst Gwisdek?' ‘That's right, one of your fellow sodomites. Horst is lying at the bottom of this lake and that's where you're going to end up. That's what I'm taking from you… your life! One less paedophile to destroy lives.'

‘No!' Gunther screamed.

Felix towered over Gunther. The hate inside him was so strong that he couldn't bear to look at him any more. Hitting him on the back of the head with the gun, he dragged Gunther's limp body to the car and threw him in the back. Before long Gunther's eyes flickered and the monster stirred.

‘Mutti! Help. Someone, help me!' was Gunther's last, desperate cry.

‘
Fic dich
!' Felix screamed in Gunther's ear, giving him another whack with the gun.

Felix turned off the music, tied Gunther's hands to the door handle, bound his feet to the handle on the opposite side and locked the doors. He put on a wet suit and aqua shoes and opened the windows in the front so the car would fill with water and he had a means of escape. Then he drove the car off the end of the jetty at breakneck speed, hitting the water hard. The car began to sink and Felix climbed out with ease to repeat his ritual of dancing on top of the car roof before diving off and swimming in the cold, cleansing water, back to the jetty.

Shining his torch over the water he double-checked that the deed was done. It had surprised him how easy it was to dispose of someone and how good he felt about it. No regrets. Felix had no bruises this time, not even a scratch – but he knew the third Musketeer wouldn't be so easy.

Dressing himself at the side of the lake, he got ready to leave. The next part of his plan was to contact the relatives with news that would hopefully throw them off track. Felix texted the following message to Gunther's mother.

‘Dear Mutti,

I have to get away. News is about to break, the police will come after me for what I did as a warden at Torgau. I sexually abused the kids. Tell no one. I have to lie low for now. I'm sorry.

Your loving son, Gunty.'

Felix sent the message and it registered a beep, successfully delivered. He quickly turned off the mobile, not wanting to receive any messages or calls from an anxious and frightened old lady in Leipzig. Triple-checking the crime scene for any clues he might have left, he departed the lake thinking it had all gone well and surprisingly to plan.

As he walked along the dark, wooded pathway at the side of the lake towards the street lights of Kopenick, Felix decided there was no time to lose and would start stalking his third Musketeer immediately. With growing impatience, he looked forward to returning to normality at Motzen and get on with the rest of his life. A life with Martha.

Two down, two to go, he told himself.

Chapter Fourteen
: Harald

H
ARALD
P
LAUMANN WAS A
married man in his mid 30s with two children: a boy of eight and a girl of six. A devoted husband and father, his wife had no idea he was a paedophile and would have vehemently refuted any suggestion that he was. As a young and impressionable warden at Torgau, Plaumann's latent proclivities for under-age sex, predominantly with boys, were kindled and truly ignited under the influence of Horst Gwisdek.

After Torgau's closure, Harald got a job at Berlin's Schonefeld Airport as a security guard and within two years became a deputy manager of the security team. He was regarded as an upstanding pillar of the community and moved his family with him, settling in a nearby village on the edge of the Spreewald. To outsiders, Harald seemed like a ‘normal' person – a regular guy, tall and strong, raising a family and going to work, where he strutted around the airport like a puffed-out peacock, anyone or anything suspicious feeling the full force of his wrath. But he also kept in touch with his fellow Musketeers and enjoyed their depraved mini breaks in Horst's motor home.

Horst's diary helped lead Felix to Harald's home. At the crack of dawn, he parked his Schwalbe in an alley and began stalking his prey. Hidden between the large recycling bins he felt safe and protected and also had a prime view. Harald came out of his house wearing his uniform, with ‘Airport Security' emblazoned on the back of his jacket. Following on his Schwalbe, Felix couldn't keep up with Harald's fast car but it seemed logical that the Musketeer was heading for Schonefeld airport, about 15 kilometres away. Felix parked at the nearest U-Bahn station, put on a dark wig and took the train to the airport.

At Schonefeld, Felix found and observed his prey, pompously patrolling the arrivals hall. He decided it would be far too dangerous to try and abduct someone here, with masses of security measures and cameras clearly visible. Harald also carried a gun during his working day. This Musketeer was going to be tricky, he thought. Felix didn't fear him, because with all the boxing training he had bulked up his athletic frame and now felt he was Harald's equal in terms of strength. In Das Kino, he boxed to the music of the ‘Toreador' song and every time he hit the punch bag he would shout out, ‘The Torgau boy wins!' Hopefully, he'd prove more than a match for Harald, using his brain as well as his newly-developed brawn to achieve a successful outcome. And as with the other Musketeers, Felix believed luck was on his side.

He watched Harald's children play outside their semi detached home in a cul de sac near open fields. For the first time Felix felt a surge of guilt, knowing it was his intention to deprive these children of their father; his plans for retribution impinged on their young lives and were in direct contradiction to his thoughts about protecting children. But then he thought, ‘What if Harald was to abuse his own children?' and his guilty feelings were assuaged.

After 10 days of surveillance, watching the house and following Harald's movements, Felix felt ready. A different strategy was necessary as the cul de sac was far too exposed. He decided the optimum choice would be to make his move at the gym. Harald finished his working day at 4 p.m. when he picked his children up from school. He'd spend time at home with them before going to a local gym in the early evening and then sometimes visit a bar for a beer with colleagues. Felix checked the gym car park for security cameras. There were none.

On a quiet October evening just after twilight, Felix waited behind a tree near to the Musketeer's parked car. Harald emerged from the gym and walked over to his car, pressing a remote control keypad to open the vehicle and put his bag in the boot. For a brief moment, anything or anyone in front of him was invisible and it was at this optimum moment of surprise that Felix sprung into action. Harald closed the boot of his car and found a man in a balaclava standing beside him pointing a gun at his head.

‘What the hell?'

‘Hands up!' Felix ordered.

Harald dropped his car keys and obeyed, putting his hands in the air. Felix body searched him for signs of a gun.

‘I work with the police. You're making a big mistake.'

Felix snarled. ‘You need policing! Hands behind your back.'

Harald obeyed and felt his body shoved so it spread-eagled on the car. He also felt something he hadn't felt in years. Fear.

Felix tied Harald's hands tightly together with some rope and duct taped the Musketeer's mouth, dragging him to the back seat of the car, pushing him inside, face down, and using more rope to bind his prey's feet together. He then picked up the car keys from the ground, started the car and drove steadily out of the car park.

Felix kept a close eye on Harald through the rear view mirror. The Musketeer was wriggling in the back but remained tightly bound. Before long, Felix reached the scene of his previous crimes, parking this time by the banks of the east jetty. The night was cold and dark and nobody was about.

Keeping the car headlamps on, Felix shone the lights on a nearby tree as he went into the bushes. Earlier in the day he'd camouflaged his Schwalbe under a bush before stealing a bicycle in Kopenick, taking it on the train to Schonefeld and cycling onwards to his destination, Harald's gym.

His Schwalbe was still there. He rummaged in his top box for his wet suit and aqua shoes and quickly changed. Returning to the car, Felix opened the back door, leaning the full weight of his body on Harald while holding him firmly in place. He proceeded to take off his abuser's shoes and socks, cutting away at his clothes with his knife from top to bottom and throwing the rags out of the car until Harald was left lying in his underpants. He then took Harald's wallet and mobile phone and ripped off the duct tape.

‘What's your wife's name?'

‘You leave her alone!' Harald yelled.

Hacking at Harald's hair, Felix got his DNA cuttings.

Harald was incensed. ‘You bastard!'

‘Your wife's name?' Felix repeated, ignoring him. ‘I'll text her, tell her you'll be late home.'

‘Ina... my wife's name is Ina,' Harald blurted out.

Felix took the hair, wrapped it in tissue and placed it in his rucksack. He was feeling confident and prematurely sent Harald's wife the following mobile text.

Darling Ina,

I have to get away as news is about to break and the police will come after me for what I did as a warden at Torgau. I sexually abused the kids. Tell no one. I've got to lie low. I'm sorry. Kiss my children for me.

Your loving husband, Harald

The message beeped a successful delivery. Felix switched off Harald's mobile phone and returned to the car with his knife in one hand and a gun tucked into the top of his wet suit. He dragged the Musketeer from the car into the cold night air and threw him onto the muddy banks, kicking at him, shoving him into the shallows of the cold water, rolling him like a log as he stood over his prey, watching him through the eye slits of his balaclava.

Harald managed to pull himself upright, balanced on his knees. ‘‘Who do you hell do you think you are?' he screamed.

‘Your worst nightmare, Plaumann.'

‘You know my name?'

Felix spoke with venom. ‘Every kid knew your name at Torgau.'

Harald was shivering knee deep in the water and mustered all his strength in an attempt to save his life. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

Felix fetched his Walkman and turned on the cassette.

‘
Toreador, en garde, Toreador, Toreador
.'

Felix smiled. ‘This is such a perfect song for all of you. Don't treat me like an idiot! Now, dance for me, Musketeer, like I danced for you.'

Harald tried to stand up but his feet were bound and it was all he could do to stop himself toppling face first into the water.

‘I can't stand up… Cut me loose and I'll dance for you.'

‘Cut you loose? Do you think I'm stupid? Dance on your knees,' Felix bellowed and made a mock bull charge at his prey.

‘
Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant, qu'un oeil noir te regarde…
'

Harald moved from side to side on his knees in rhythm to the music, trying to think of a way out of this nightmare. It was obvious his life depended on it. He asked himself, if this is a Torgau boy, why would dancing for him be important? Then he realised and stopped moving. There was only one boy at Torgau who had danced for him…

‘
Et que l'amour t'attend, Toreador, Toreador, l'amour t'attend!
'

‘I said dance!' Felix barked.

Harald was adamant in his defiance. ‘No! Take off your mask, Felix Waltz.'

Felix switched off the music. The game had taken a different direction to the one he had anticipated. He wasn't afraid to show his face and gladly pulled off his balaclava. ‘My sister and I danced for you so it's the least you can do for me.'

‘Well, well, Felix Waltz. You didn't drown after all. We should have got together, you and your sister and the Musketeers, just like the old days.'

Furious, Felix slashed the knife at Harald's ears, cutting his lobes. Blood gushed into the water.

‘My sister's dead because of what you did to her!' Felix told him.

Harald screamed at the pain but he would never cry or beg in front of the Torgau boy. ‘You'll regret that, Waltz!'

‘You're branded now. How does it feel?'

Harald didn't reply. He blocked out the pain in his ears and moved his body to stay warm. He felt something sharp dig into his back – a rock, hidden under the surface. Placing his tied hands over the rock he began to rub the rope against it, up and down, in an attempt to cut it loose. He disguised his actions as best he could, trying not to give himself away.

‘I've had enough of this
scheisse
! Your revenge stops here,' Harald snarled.

‘Revenge? I've only just started. This is payback time,' Felix told him. ‘Of course,

if you don't like my kind of justice, I'll hand you over to the police and you'll be thrown into prison with all the other sodomites. You'll think you've been fucked by a train when they get at you.'

‘You've no guarantees I'd be prosecuted. I'll deny everything.' Harald said, stony-faced.

‘That's what I thought,' Felix mused.

‘Horst hasn't said, but I suppose you pulled the same stunt on him, bringing him here.'

Felix smiled like a fox. ‘Yes, I brought that paedophile here, and Gunther.'

Harald thought it was odd his fellow Musketeers hadn't warned him. ‘I guess we'll swap stories about how a Torgau boy outsmarted the lot of us. OK, you've made your point. What is it you want, money?'

‘Screw your blood money! That's not what I'm taking.'

Harald had not understood the deeper meaning of Felix's words. He felt the rope around his hands loosening and stalled for time.

‘Felix. Please. My wife and children will be worried about me by now.'

‘And when you tuck your children in bed at night, are you tempted to, you know, touch them?'

‘
Nein! Nein
!'

‘Liar! Bet you've thought about it. Have you already abused them?'

Felix could see he'd found Harald's Achilles heel.

‘No!' Harald cried, breaking down in tears.

‘People like you think children enjoy having sex. You're a sick bastard. They'll be better off without you.'

‘I love my children,' Harald howled.

‘It's deeply rooted in you to abuse, over and over again,' said Felix, grimly.

Harald was now in fear for his life. ‘What did you do with Horst and Gunther?'

‘I, Felix Waltz, was the judge and the jury. They're at the bottom of this lake and that's where you're going. The Torgau boy wins!' Felix yelled at the top of his voice and bashed Harald on the head with his gun.

He dragged a slippery, wet and stunned Harald out of the water and into the back of the car. The blood trickled from his forehead and ears and his body was blue from the cold. Felix collected Harald's clothes and put them in the boot of the car. There was no one around and no one in sight. He picked up his balaclava along with his gun and knife, placed them in his rucksack and switched on the headlights of his Schwalbe, ready to guide him back to the jetty.

Returning to the car, Felix could see Harald lying motionless in the back. He quickly unwound the car windows at the front, leaving the back windows closed and locking the back doors. With his adrenaline pumping and losing sight of any sense of order, Felix forgot to repeat the success of Gunther's demise and failed to re-tie Harald's hands to the door handle and his feet to the opposite side. As he drove the car at high speed off the end of the jetty, with the car in mid flight, he felt a rope around his neck.

‘I'll fucking kill you!' Harald bellowed. He had freed his hands.

The rope tightened around Felix's neck, choking him. He took his hands off the steering wheel and grappled with the rope to try and loosen Harald's lethal grip. His foot on the accelerator pressed down hard and generated more height and speed than expected, projecting the car close to a small island of trees. He could hardly breathe as the car landed on the water and quickly began filling up. Felix thought of Martha, Klaus and Ingrid; they would never know what happened to him. He saw a vision of Axel's smiling face; Susi's little boy would forget him and never remember he existed. The silver crucifix hanging on the driver's mirror caught a prism of moonlight and with his strength ebbing away, Felix grabbed it and stabbed at Harald's eyes.

He'd struck home. Yelling in pain, Harald loosened his grip on the rope and Felix managed to wriggle out of the window but Harald grabbed his foot and held on, tugging him backwards. Suddenly the car went under the water and with the rocking of their movements, nose-dived quickly towards the bottom. Branches from the roots of a tree invaded the car on the front passenger side, just missing Felix's head. Felix tried to swim upwards, kicking Harald full in the face. The Musketeer's grip on Felix's foot loosened and he was left holding only an aqua scuba diving shoe in his hands. As Felix escaped out of the only remaining open window the car rolled slightly and the branch speared through the entire width of the front window, blocking any exit. Harald's feet were still tied and he gave up struggling to undo them, diverting his efforts to pulling at the branch to find an escape hatch by the window. It was futile. The tree closed off any hope of life and delivered him to his watery grave. Harald's lungs filled with water and his dark, sordid life of depravity was over.