Snow White Must Die (54 page)

“Yes, what a shame,” said Daniela Lauterbach. “But that gives me an idea.”

Terlinden and Dr. Lauterbach were standing with their backs to the stairwell and couldn’t see Amelie, who had come into the lobby, but they did notice that Tobias’s attention was distracted for a moment. Daniela Lauterbach grabbed the box that Terlinden had stuck under his arm, and Tobias suddenly found himself looking into the barrel of a gun.

“I’d almost forgotten about that dreadful evening, until you reminded me of it. You remember, Claudius, the way Wilhelm suddenly stood in the doorway of the bedroom, holding this very pistol and aiming at us?” She smiled at Tobias. “Thank you for giving me the idea, you little idiot.”

Without hesitating another second, Daniela Lauterbach fired the gun. An ear-splitting boom shattered the silence. Tobias felt a violent jolt and then his chest seemed about to explode. In disbelief he stared at the doctor, who had already turned away. He heard Amelie desperately calling his name in a shrill voice. He wanted to speak but couldn’t get any air, and his legs gave way. Tobias Sartorius hit the granite floor but didn’t feel it. Everything around him was black and deathly still.

*   *   *

They were discussing how to get onto the hermetically sealed grounds of the Terlinden factory when from the other side of the gate a dark limousine approached with its high beams on. The gate slid silently to the side.

“There he is!” shouted Pia, motioning to her colleagues. Claudius Terlinden, behind the wheel of the Mercedes, had to brake abruptly as two patrol cars suddenly blocked his way.

“He’s alone in the car,” said Bodenstein. Pia stepped up next to him, her weapon drawn, and motioned to Terlinden to roll down the window. Two uniformed officers lent weight to her demand as they took up position on the other side of the car, weapons at the ready.

“What do you want from me?” Terlinden asked. He was sitting stock still, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Despite the cold, his face glistened with sweat.

“Step out of the vehicle, open all the doors and the trunk,” Bodenstein ordered. “Where is Tobias Sartorius?”

“How should I know?”

“And where is Dr. Lauterbach? Now get the hell out!”

Terlinden didn’t move. Naked panic showed in his wide-open eyes.

“He’s not getting out,” said a voice from inside the car behind tinted windows. Bodenstein leaned forward and saw Daniela Lauterbach in the back seat. She was holding a gun pressed to the back of Terlinden’s neck.

“Now clear the road at once, or I’ll shoot this man,” she threatened. Bodenstein began to sweat. He had no doubt that Daniela Lauterbach would do as she said. The woman had a gun in her hand and nothing left to lose—an extremely dangerous combination. The doors of the Mercedes had automatically locked by the time the car reached the gate, so neither Bodenstein nor the officers on the other side could have yanked open the doors to overpower the doctor.

“I think she means it,” Terlinden whispered tensely. His lower lip was quivering, and he was obviously in a state of shock. Bodenstein was frantically considering the options. There was not much chance they could escape. In this weather even an S-Class Mercedes couldn’t do more than seventy-five miles an hour with snow tires.

“I’ll let you go,” he said at last. “But first tell me where Tobias is.”

“Probably with his daddy in heaven,” replied Daniela Lauterbach with a cold laugh.

*   *   *

Bodenstein and a patrol car followed the black Mercedes as it left the company grounds and drove up the hill to the B8, while Pia called for backup on the radio and ordered an ambulance. Terlinden turned right on the highway that had recently been widened to four lanes, heading for the Autobahn. At Bad Soden two more patrol cars joined them, and a few kilometers farther on they picked up three more. Luckily rush hour was over. If they got into a traffic jam the situation could escalate rapidly, but Lauterbach would hardly shoot her driver in the head while they were moving. Bodenstein looked in the rearview mirror. Now a dozen emergency vehicles were following them, blue lights flashing and blocking all three lanes for the traffic behind them.

“They’re heading for the city,” said Pia as the black Mercedes took a right at the Eschborn Triangle. Ignoring the smoking ban in all service vehicles, she lit up a cigarette. Various voices were squawking from the radio. Their colleagues in Frankfurt had been informed and would attempt to keep the roads clear if Terlinden actually headed into the city.

“Maybe they’re going to the airport,” Bodenstein mused aloud.

“I hope not,” said Pia, who was waiting for news of Tobias. Bodenstein took a quick glance at his colleague, whose face was white with tension. What a day. The immense pressure of the past few weeks had barely subsided after Thies and Amelie were found. A whole new chain of events suddenly started, coming thick and fast. Had it really only been this morning that he woke up in Nicola’s bed?

“They’re heading into the city!” Pia yelled into the radio as Terlinden shot straight through the Westkreuz interchange instead of taking the Autobahn 5. “What are they up to?”

“They want to lose us downtown,” Bodenstein guessed. The wipers on high were flicking over the windshield. The snow had changed to pounding rain, and Terlinden was driving way above the speed limit. He wouldn’t be stopping at any red lights, and the last thing they needed right now was for some pedestrian to get run over.

“Now he’s passing the fairgrounds, turning right on Friedrich Ebert Boulevard,” Pia reported. “He’s doing at least fifty, keep the streets clear!”

Bodenstein needed to concentrate. The streets were wet with rain and reflected the taillights of the cars that had pulled over to the side, as well as the blue lights of the police cars that were blocking all the side streets.

“I think I’m going to need glasses soon,” he muttered, stepping harder on the gas so he wouldn’t lose Terlinden, who had just blown through his third red light. What was Lauterbach planning? Where was she going?

“Have you ever thought that maybe she—” Pia began, but then yelled, “Turn right! He’s going right!”

Suddenly, without warning, Terlinden took a right at Platz der Republik down Mainzer Landstrasse. Bodenstein also spun the wheel to the right and clenched his teeth as the Opel skidded around the corner and just missed hitting a streetcar.

“Damn, that was close,” he hissed. “Where’d he go? I can’t see him.”

“Left! Left!” Pia forgot the name of the street in her excitement, although she’d worked for years at the old police headquarters across the street. She was pointing frantically. “He went in over there!”

“Where?” the radio squawked. “Where are you?”

“Turned down Ottostrasse,” said Bodenstein. “But I don’t see them. Damn!”

“Tell the others to keep going straight to the train station!” Pia shouted into the radio. “Maybe he’s just trying to shake us off.”

She leaned forward.

“Right or left?” said Bodenstein as they crossed Poststrasse on the north side of the train station. He had to brake hard as a car came shooting out from the right. Swearing mightily, he stomped on the gas and decided intuitively to turn left.

“Jeez,” said Pia without taking her eyes off the street. “I didn’t know you even knew such words.”

“I have kids,” said Bodenstein, slowing down to a crawl. “Do you see the car anywhere?”

“There are hundreds of cars parked around here,” she complained. She had rolled down her window and was peering out into the darkness. Farther up ahead they saw patrol cars with blue lights flashing. Passersby had stopped to stare despite the pouring rain.

“There!” Pia shouted, and Bodenstein jumped. “There they are! Coming out of that parking space!”

She was right. Seconds later the black Mercedes was in front of them, racing south on Baseler Strasse so fast that it was all Bodenstein could do to keep up. They zoomed across Baseler Platz toward the Friedensbrücke, and Bodenstein started praying silently. Pia kept reporting their position over the radio. At seventy-five miles an hour the Mercedes raced down Kennedyallee followed by a column of patrol cars. The police up ahead didn’t try to stop them.

They crossed the bridge and Pia said, “They’re heading for the airport after all” as they passed the Niederräder racetrack. She had barely gotten those words out when Terlinden whipped his car all the way to the left across three lanes and jumped the curb to skid along the streetcar tracks. Pia could hardly talk fast enough to keep up as Terlinden changed direction. The patrol cars in front were already on the airport approach road and couldn’t turn around, but Bodenstein and Pia stayed behind the Mercedes as it turned onto the Isenburger cutoff in a breakneck maneuver. On the straightaway Terlinden stomped on the gas, and Bodenstein was sweating blood as he was forced to do the same. All of a sudden brake lights lit up in front of him, and the heavy Mercedes fishtailed and wound up in the oncoming lane. Bodenstein braked so hard that his car skidded too. Had Lauterbach shot her hostage at full speed?

“The back tire blew!” yelled Pia, who had grasped the situation at once. “Now they’re not going anywhere.”

After the frantic, crazy chase Terlinden hit his blinker and turned left onto Oberschweinstiege. He chugged along doing twenty-five through the woods, crossed the railroad tracks and pulled into the parking lot a couple of hundred yards farther on. Bodenstein stopped too, and Pia jumped out of the car and motioned to her colleagues in the patrol cars to surround the Mercedes. Then she got back inside. Bodenstein instructed everybody via radio to stay in their cars. Daniela Lauterbach was still armed. He didn’t want to run any unnecessary risk and place his colleagues’ lives in danger, especially since a SWAT team would arrive shortly. But then the driver’s side door of the Mercedes opened. Bodenstein held his breath. Terlinden got out. He staggered slightly, held on to the open car door and looked around. Then he raised his hands in the air. He stood there motionless in the beam of the headlights.

“What’s happening?” the radio squawked.

“He stopped the car and got out,” said Bodenstein. “We’re going over there.”

He nodded to Pia, and they got out and approached Terlinden. Pia had her weapon aimed at the Mercedes, ready to fire at the slightest movement.

“Don’t shoot,” said Claudius Terlinden, dropping his arms. Pia’s nerves were tensed to the breaking point as she tore open the rear door of the Mercedes and aimed inside. Then she lowered her gun, feeling only boundless disappointment. The back seat was empty.

*   *   *

“All of a sudden she was standing there in my office with a pistol aimed at me.” Claudius Terlinden was speaking haltingly. Slumped and pale, he sat at the narrow table in one of the police vans. He was obviously in shock.

“Go on,” Bodenstein urged him. Terlinden wanted to rub his hand over his face, but then he remembered that he was wearing handcuffs. Despite his allergy to nickel, thought Pia cynically, watching him without sympathy.

“She … she forced me to open the safe,” Terlinden went on in a shaky voice. “I can’t remember exactly what happened. Down in the lobby Tobias showed up all at once. With the girl. He—”

“With what girl?” Pia interrupted.

“With that … that … I can’t remember her name.”

“Amelie?”

“Right. Yes, I guess that’s her name.”

“Good. Keep talking.”

“Daniela shot Tobias without hesitating. Then she forced me to get into the car.”

“What about Amelie?”

“I don’t know.” Terlinden shrugged. “I don’t know anything anymore. I just had to drive and keep driving. She told me which way to go.”

“And she got out at the train station,” said Bodenstein.

“Yes. She yelled ‘Now turn right!’ and then ‘Now left!’ I did exactly as she said.”

“I can understand that.” Bodenstein nodded, then leaned over. His voice turned sharp. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t get out at the train station too. Why lead us on a dangerous chase through the city? Do you have any idea how easily you could have caused an accident?”

Pia chewed her lip and kept her eyes on Terlinden. Just as Bodenstein turned to her, Claudius Terlinden made a mistake. He did something that nobody in shock would do: He glanced at his watch.

“You’re lying through your teeth!” Pia shouted at him. “It was all a prearranged plot. You were just playing for time. Where is Lauterbach?”

For a couple more minutes Terlinden tried to keep up the pretext, but Pia wouldn’t let up.

“You’re right,” he finally admitted. “We were going to run away together. The plane leaves at eleven forty-five tonight. If you hurry maybe you can catch her.”

“Where’s it going? Where did you want to fly to?” Pia had to control herself not to grab the man by the shoulders and give him a good shake. “You’d better start talking. That woman shot someone. That’s called murder. And if you don’t start telling the truth, I promise you’re going to be charged as an accomplice. So, which flight is Daniela Lauterbach planning to take? And under what name?”

“The one to São Paulo,” Terlinden whispered, closing his eyes. “As Consuela la Roca.”

*   *   *

“I’m going to the airport,” Bodenstein decided as they stood outside next to the police van. “You keep grilling Terlinden.”

Pia nodded. It really made her nervous that she hadn’t heard anything yet from their colleagues in Altenhain. What happened to Amelie? Had Lauterbach shot her too? She asked one of the patrol officers to find out about Amelie and then climbed back into the VW bus.

In the interrogation room at the station Pia asked, “How could you do such a thing? Daniela Lauterbach almost killed your son Thies, after she’d been pumping him full of drugs for years.”

Terlinden shut his eyes for a moment.

“You don’t understand the situation,” he replied wearily as he averted his eyes.

“Then explain it to me,” Pia said. “Tell me why Daniela Lauterbach mistreated Thies so badly and why she set fire to the orangerie.”

Claudius Terlinden opened his eyes and stared at Pia. A minute passed, then two.