Nemesis: Innocence Sold (7 page)

“What else happened?” Daniel asked, more in order to distract her than out of real interest.

“A crazy computer, a disastrous job interview, and further proof of the depths to which humanity can sink.”

Daniel didn’t know what to make of the last comment. “And I thought I had had a bad day because the taxi driver at the airport spoke almost no German and insisted on driving me to Ahrensbök, near Lübeck. And the guy sitting next to me on the plane was so afraid of flying that he talked the entire time, and I didn’t sleep a wink. And then there was the overdressed, middle-aged woman who elbowed me in the ribs at the baggage claim because she absolutely had to get to her pink cosmetic case.”

Sandra laughed. “All right, apparently we’ve both had bad luck today. Are you an American?”

“Yes. Is my accent that bad?”

“Not bad—interesting. But your German’s perfect.”

“Well, thanks to an intensive course provided by my employer and some help from a friend who grew up bilingual and for weeks on end refused to speak English with me. Shall we steer the day in a more positive direction? I can drive you home. We can put your bike in the trunk. I’d like to take a proper look at your foot. It needs to be cooled down, and it might make sense to get it X-rayed.” He understood she didn’t quite trust him, so he raised his hands to calm her. “Would you like to see my ID? Or call a friend and give her my name and the license plate number? I’m definitely not a serial killer who waits outside the supermarket for young women to get nailed by hit-and-run drivers.”

She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip, then smiled. “Thanks for your offer. Sorry I seem so suspicious.”

Though there was no sign of the man or the van, Daniel was reluctant to leave her alone. “That’s all right. Will you be able to make it to the car if I take your backpack and the bike and you lean on me?”

Sandra nodded, but her forehead was beaded with sweat when they reached the car.

He praised her when she reached the passenger seat. “Good girl.” As he had expected, the patronizing praise didn’t please her; she glared at him. He winked at her. “Who knows—maybe you’ll get a slice of pepperoni pizza as a reward. By the time I get home, it’ll have thawed out and be inedible.” He wrinkled his brow in mock suspicion. “But don’t tell me this was all staged so you could get your hands on my pizza.”

She had to laugh again as he effortlessly maneuvered the station wagon out of the parking space. “By rights it would have been mine anyway. By the way, we can stop using the formal
Sie
. Call me Sandra.”

“I’d be happy to. There are some things that are easier in my language, and I don’t just mean the damned tenses.
Können
,
hat gekonnt
,
wird vielleicht gekonnt haben oder irgendwann können
. And
kennen
is something else again. A nightmare.”

Sandra could do nothing but return his grin. His humorous manner appealed to her, but it was difficult for her to evaluate him. Her first impression—that he wasn’t even twenty years old—had proven to be thoroughly wrong. His collar-length hair, which was carelessly combed back but nevertheless flopped down over his forehead constantly, and his blue eyes gave him a boyish appearance, particularly in combination with his suntan and broad smile. “You’re making a good fight of it, though. Turn right at the intersection. Are you from California?”

He looked at her sideways with amazement. “Correct. San Diego. I swam in the Pacific this morning. How’d you guess?”

“Turn left up ahead, at the bus stop. Well, because you look like the typical beach boy—all that’s missing is a surfboard under your arm. And are you really a doctor? What are you doing here in Ahrensburg?”

“I actually work some distance from here. But I’m often in Lübeck or Kiel, and I fly out of Hamburg a lot. Because of that it made sense to live in Ahrensburg.”

He braked the Mercedes and pointed down a cross street. “Down there, the last duplex half on the right. That’s where I live.”

“Strange. I don’t live far from here at all. Down the next street to the left and then the red brick house.”

When Daniel walked toward the entrance of the multifamily building, Sandra held him back. “I’m in the apartment on the ground floor. It is possible to get there via the stairwell, but it’s easier to go through the kitchen.” She managed a pained smile. “And I’ll save myself two doors and a flight of stairs.”

Daniel looked around the interior of the two-room apartment, and Sandra could sense his thoughts. The furnishings were bright and friendly, but while the work space in the kitchen was covered with dishes, the contents of the shelves in the living room were more functional, almost Spartan. In the absence of other personal items, Daniel looked at her collection of books and DVDs.

“I’ll slip into something more comfortable and . . .”

Daniel immediately forgot the DVDs. “Do you need any help?” His cheeks turned red when Sandra’s look made the ambiguity of his words clear to him. “I just mean whether you can manage, not that . . . Speaking purely as a doctor.” His humor vanquished the moment of embarrassment. “Though on the other hand . . .”

Limping, she fled into the bathroom before the banter ended in a duel of words that she probably would have lost.

After she had put on a worn and considerably looser pair of jeans, she returned to the living room with a salve for treating sports injuries.

She held out the tube to Daniel. “Would it be OK to just smear this stuff on?”

“I won’t know until I’ve checked how serious the injury is. Sit down in the chair.”

Sandra didn’t care for the unexpected authoritarian tone, and the blinking of the red LED of her answering machine gave her the perfect excuse to ignore his command. “Since I can still walk, I guess it’s not all that bad.” After thinking for a moment, she took the cordless phone from its base. She had no desire to have Daniel listen to her boss’s loud, obnoxious comments about her absence. As she had expected, the first call was nothing more than his rambling about her staying home from work and the short notice, culminating in a smug comment about the imagined afflictions of women. The second number wasn’t familiar, but she immediately recognized Stephan’s voice.

At first unbelievingly, then joyfully surprised, she listened to Stephan’s brief announcement that he would like to visit her at home at about six o’clock that evening in order to discuss a few questions that had remained unanswered. His remark that he wished to spare her another trip to police headquarters wasn’t necessary. She knew he lived in Ahrensburg and sensed that such considerate gestures toward his employees were typical of him. Even when the message had long since ended and the receiver was no longer emitting any sound but a quiet hissing, she continued to hold the phone to her ear. This was the second chance she hadn’t dared to hope for, and this time she wouldn’t mess it up.

“Bad news?” Daniel asked with concern.

“No—on the contrary. The guy I interviewed with today wants to come by later. Apparently I didn’t completely blow it. I’ll do it right this time—I’m sure of it.”

“Just a second. I don’t understand. What kind of company makes house calls after an interview? Are you sure this guy isn’t looking for some other kind of . . . persuasion?”

Although she found Daniel’s concern touching, she laughed out loud. “You’re totally off the mark. He’s a new father and loves his wife very deeply. By the time I got to the other end of Hamburg, the workday would be over, and he lives just around the corner. Besides, this is really about something like a move between departments within a company.”

“All right, if you say so, but sit down now so I can take a look at your ankle.”

While he felt her ankle with practiced movements, Daniel asked about her DVD collection. “Are those your movies, or do they belong to your boyfriend?”

“Why? Is there a law against women watching action movies?”

“No, but a collection like that is pretty unusual, and you have some real classics. I particularly like the
Lethal Weapon
collection—I’ve seen those movies at least half a dozen times.”

She jerked when he touched a sensitive spot and was grateful to him for having distracted her.

“Stretch slowly once and then release. That opening scene with the blue or red wire is pure genius.”

“True. Or the guy in the fireproof clothes who plays around with the flamethrower until Riggs blows him away while his partner’s running around in his underpants.”

Daniel smiled and nodded. “The ligaments are stretched—that’s what is also called a sprained ankle. I don’t think anything’s torn. Rest, and keep it iced and elevated. When’s your future boss coming?”

“Around six.”

Daniel looked at his watch. “Still an hour and a half to go—that’s enough time for some pizza and a glass of wine to calm you down after this ordeal.” He dismissed Sandra’s incipient protest with a wave. “I’ll disappear long before the guy shows up. But if the pain hasn’t lessened significantly by tomorrow morning, you’ll need to see a doctor.”

“I thought you were a doctor.”

“I rarely go shopping with mobile X-ray equipment or a magnetic resonance tomograph.”

“All right, but you don’t have to . . .”

“What? Save my thawed-out pizza? Yes, I do—that’s a component of good patient care. I have nothing else planned, I’ve demonstrated that I can behave myself, and you might have a chance to get your hands on a piece of my pizza.”

Sandra nodded.

“What?”

“I’m just amazed. I spent a year in the United States with a school exchange program, and I thought I knew English pretty well. But the way you speak—all the expressions you use—it’s astonishing.”

Daniel smiled. “Am I hearing a trace of suspicion again? In my job, it’s important for me to understand every word correctly when I work here. On my team we intentionally switch constantly between German and English.”

“Team?”

For the first time, Sandra had the suspicion that Daniel was avoiding giving her a precise answer. “The people I work with directly. Incidentally, my boss went to school in Germany and speaks the language just as well—better, if anything. He rushed us through some courses, and I’ve mentioned my friend. He speaks German fluently and spoke only German with me for weeks, until he was satisfied with my grasp of the language.”

“That’s true—you had mentioned that. Sorry, distrust is . . .” Sandra managed to suppress the words
occupational hazard
. “It’s all right,” she said.

“Well, OK, then. You sit down. I’ll find my way around the kitchen. First we need ice for your foot.”

“All right, but would you give me the laptop on the desk first?”

“At your service,” he said with a grin.

CHAPTER 7

Daniel was happy that Sandra was already limping considerably less when she left the living room. He had initially worried that their meal together would be a disaster. Something about her laptop seemed to have ruined her mood, but then they had had a lively discussion. Their interests overlapped to some extent, and he liked the insolent way she pushed the spinach part of her pizza at him and then went after his last piece of pepperoni pizza. And her thoughtfulness in relation to other topics excited him. It was too bad he had to leave soon—he would have liked to stick around to make sure her strange new boss behaved himself.

But before he left he had to somehow convince her that the accident in front of the supermarket had been a targeted attack. He was still thinking about how he could express his suspicion without seeming crazy when a muffled scream from the hall, followed by a commotion, jarred him from his thoughts. It sounded as if she had fallen. He jumped up and ran into the hall.

Stunned, he looked at Sandra, who lay still on the floor. Despite the surprise, he had already analyzed the situation. The smell of chloroform was unmistakable; two men, no visible weapons. It ought to be manageable.

One man came toward him, a cloth in his hand. With a well-aimed kick in the stomach, Daniel kept the blond man with the soaked, stinking rag at a distance. A movement next to him caused him to spin around. A brawny, dark-haired man with a face marked by hard living came out of the kitchen and kicked at his knee. It was impossible to evade the man in the narrow hall, and now there were three of them. Daniel hit the wall hard and deflected a blow aimed at his throat. The man from the kitchen drew back for an uppercut. When Daniel dodged the blow this time, the man struck the coatrack and became entangled in the jackets hanging from it. Cursing, he fought for balance.

An arm wrapped around his throat from behind; at the same time, a chloroform-soaked cloth was pressed over his nose and mouth. Instinctively, he breathed out forcefully and held his breath; he attempted to free himself from his attacker by throwing an elbow back. He felt the biting fumes of the chloroform in his mucous membranes. His movements became less coordinated; he lost his awareness of where the men were. As a last resort, he fell forward. The grip loosened, but again Daniel lost his awareness; he struck the chest of drawers hard. Again the stinking cloth appeared in front of his face; a blow to the stomach caused him to gasp for air.

He breathed in much too deeply. Helplessly, he fumbled for something to take hold of as his knees buckled. His vision blurred, and he landed hard on the floor, pulling down the coatrack, which landed on top of him. At least the repulsive cloth was no longer in front of his face. With an effort, he turned himself over. A figure bent over him; that smell again. Blinking, Daniel tried to banish the gray veils of mist that surrounded him. Then came utter blackness.

A hard blow to his back forced the air out of Daniel’s lungs. Groaning, he pressed a hand against his forehead, behind which he felt a knocking and hammering as though he had gone without sleep for days. Nausea roiled through him, and he fought to keep the pizza down. That damned chloroform. What had happened to Sandra? Who were these men? And where was he? Before he could orient himself, he was flipped over; he futilely sought something he could grab onto. An elbow dug painfully into his ribs. Sandra. Slowly, he recognized his surroundings: they were lying in the bed of a van. A metal box that was attached to the van bed was directly next to him. When the van had gone around a curve too fast, he had struck this box. He raised his head and grimaced when the pain became more intense. A dirty pane of glass separated the cab from the bed. Three men were sitting in the cab; the burly guy who had surprised him turned his head in Daniel’s direction. Daniel immediately sank back down and acted as if he were still unconscious. Another sharp curve; Sandra half fell on him. Daniel saw that the burly man’s attention was again focused on the road. He tried to lift the lid of the metal box. Locked. Other than a few wadded-up blankets, nothing lay in the bed.

Daniel held Sandra when the vehicle rounded another curve. She moaned, curled into a ball, and nestled against him. He took a firmer grip on her waist. He really enjoyed the close contact. With his eyes closed, he relaxed and considered what this could mean. The men couldn’t be after him. If they had known that he was a SEAL, they would never have allowed him to lie around untied. It must have to do with Sandra; no doubt it was the continuation of the failed first attack in front of the supermarket. He was curious to know why they were after her. The men didn’t seem especially professional, but at present there was nothing he could do. Jumping out of the moving vehicle and leaving Sandra behind wasn’t an option. The next fight wouldn’t take place in a tiny hallway, and he would have his revenge.

Sandra tried to pull her head away. Something was mercilessly pinching her earlobe. “Come on, wake up.”

Wake up? Her head hurt like crazy, and didn’t she have the day off? She nuzzled closer to the warm body next to her and ignored the warning voice inside her. Quiet, amused laughter right next to her ear. “Come on, Sandy. We can continue later, but right now you have to wake up.”

Sandy? The man with the smelly cloth. Her head came up as the memory hit her with full force. Nausea washed over her. Immediately, her head was gently but firmly pressed back down. “Breathe very gently—then it will pass. Breathe in and out, and just keep it up.”

Without thinking, she adapted her breathing to the calm, authoritative voice. Daniel. Slowly, the nausea receded; unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of her headache. “What happened? Where are we?”

“Three men grabbed you in the hallway. I would have taken care of them, but with the coatrack and the damned chloroform, they had the advantage, unfortunately.”

Coatrack? Had he gone crazy? She couldn’t see his face, but he seemed unbelievably calm, while she had to fight off a panic attack.

“Keep on breathing calmly, Sandy. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She felt oddly comforted by his calm conviction, although her intellect told her that a doctor would hardly be able to take on armed kidnappers. She was a detective. It was her job . . .

“I don’t think we have a lot of time. We’ve been off the autobahn for about fifteen minutes. If I’m interpreting the condition of the road and our speed accurately, we’re on a dirt road going through fields or a forest and will probably be at our destination soon. We’ve been driving for less than an hour. They probably won’t kill us immediately; that wouldn’t make any sense. This is about something else.”

“Why . . . What . . .”

Gently but firmly he placed his hand over her mouth. “Not so loud. They don’t need to know that we’re awake. Do you think I’m whispering for fun? If they’d wanted to kill us, they could easily have done so in your apartment. What’s this about, Sandy? What kind of work do you do?”

Sandra hesitated, but there was no point in hiding it. “I’m a detective, but I don’t know . . .” Her failure to hide her IP address occurred to her.

The vehicle came to an abrupt halt; only Daniel’s firm grip prevented her from painfully colliding with the metal box.

Once again Daniel brought his mouth close to her ear. “We’ll work it out later. No matter what happens, keep calm. If you see an opening to escape, do it—don’t hesitate—but make sure you don’t get in my way.”

What was that supposed to mean? She didn’t get a chance to ask. The rear doors were yanked open, and a flashlight was shined in her eyes. Blinded, she closed her eyes; then someone was next to her and dragged her out. She staggered and would have fallen but for the firm grip on her. She quickly turned her head away when the unpleasant smell of sweat hit her nostrils. The horrible aftertaste of the chloroform was bad enough.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. Too bad you’re awake again. It would have been a pleasure to wake you myself.” A hand stroked over her breast. Shivering with disgust, she tried to draw back. “Where you going? You have no idea how much fun awaits us.”

Obviously, they had entirely different ideas of fun. Sandra hid any trace of fear. From the van’s headlights she could see that they were in a clearing in a forest; several yards away a wooden hut stood among the trees. A gaunt blond man held a pistol in his hand, but the barrel was pointed at the ground. A brawny guy was holding Daniel by the arm. She noticed how fearful he looked.

The gaunt man reprimanded the dark-haired guy holding her. “Wait with your little games until we get inside.”

“What do you want from me? I’m a doctor—I don’t know this woman at all.” Daniel drew back from the brawny guy, stumbled, and fell to the ground. He stared at the guy with wide eyes and raised a hand protectively when the guy bent down over him. “Don’t,” Daniel said with evident panic in his voice and clumsily moved backward.

With a malevolent laugh, the man followed him. “You’ve picked yourself a real hero here.”

Sandra didn’t know what to think. His behavior didn’t fit his controlled demeanor in the van. Before she could say anything, Daniel struggled to his feet, turned around, and ran, stumbling uncertainly, toward the forest.

Scowling, the blond man turned to the burly guy. “Come on, let’s get him. He’s probably shitting his pants with fear.” The two men took off.

The sound of breaking branches gave away the state of panic Daniel must have been in as he fled through the undergrowth. While she couldn’t blame him, she was thoroughly disappointed. What had she expected? A knight in shining armor, hurrying to her rescue? He was a doctor and hopelessly out of his depth in this situation.

A shot whipped through the night. She jerked, shocked. Daniel!

The man pressed close to her from behind. “Well, I guess your friend made a mistake there.” The closeness of the man’s mouth to her ear made Sandra tremble with revulsion. She sensed how he was enjoying her reaction, and rage pushed away fear and disgust. One enemy, no weapon drawn—this was her chance. She jabbed backward with her elbow. Grunting, he loosened his grip. One jerking movement, and she was free. Sandra spun around and drew back for a karate kick when her leg buckled under her and she fell to the ground.

“I guess you like it rough, sweetheart.”

Helplessly, Sandra looked up at the man.

“I certainly like it rough, big guy.” Daniel’s calm voice came from behind her. With one step he was next to her; he threw a high kick at the dark-haired man and hit him under his nose. With his eyes rolled grotesquely back, the man collapsed. Daniel took the man’s gun and checked his pulse. “He’ll be out for a few minutes. You forgot that your ankle is still injured. A mistake like that cannot happen again—it could have fatal consequences.”

Sandra stared at his outstretched hand but was dumbfounded by what she’d seen. Impatiently, Daniel bent down, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her up. “Everything all right, Sandy?”

“I thought you . . .”

“Did you seriously think I’d leave you in the lurch?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Where . . .” She pointed at the forest.

Her incoherence brought back his smile. “Somewhere back there. They won’t wake up again for a while, but we should still find something we can tie them up with.”

“How can it be that you’re able to do something like that?”

“Is it forbidden for doctors to know karate? In my job I have to keep a cool head. Panic never helps—it only kills.”

Sandra was still sorting through the events of the last few minutes. Despite his casual explanation, she remained distrustful. “It’s getting to where nothing surprises me anymore. If accountants can be experts in hand-to-hand combat, then doctors can, too, of course. Why not?” she said.

Bewildered, Daniel looked at her. “Accountants?”

“Forget it,” she said, annoyed at her careless comment. Slowly, she turned around. She would have liked to take the van and drive away; instead she pointed at the hut. “If there are more of them in there, we have a problem.”

“They would have come out already if that were the case. Besides, I checked in there before I took on this third bastard here. I don’t risk getting shot in the back.”