Time Heals No Wounds (16 page)

He quietly opened the door. Of all the possibilities, a bike was the worst! It was impossible to follow her in the police car without being noticed, and if he walked, she would easily lose him.

As the young woman got on her Dutch city bike and slowly rode away, Hannes began trotting after her along the sidewalk. The cyclist repeatedly turned and looked around, forcing Hannes to pay attention to the distance between them and use the parked cars as a screen. Given her odd behavior, he was absolutely certain he was following the right person.

Hannes was relieved that his knee was not causing him any problems. At the end of the street, Leonie turned down a narrow path that ran along a small creek and flicked the cigarette away. After looking at her watch, she began pedaling harder. Hannes picked up his pace.

The straight, narrow path didn’t offer him any camouflage, but she apparently felt safe now and only looked ahead. At the end of the path, the stream disappeared under a small bridge, and she swerved the bike to the left back onto the road. Hannes also turned left but jogged down the sidewalk on the other side of the road. Sweat was pouring down his face, leaving a taste of salt on his lips. Pedestrians turned around to look in surprise at the young man running in the summer heat in jeans.

Hannes glanced down a side street and spotted Leonie dismounting in front of a row of shops. He turned and smacked right into a jogger, causing them both to fall. He tried to get his bearings and found himself half lying on top of a young woman. She moaned and pushed Hannes away. She had a bloody knee.

“Are you blind or what?” she snapped.

Hannes turned to look at her and froze.

“It’s you!” cried a familiar voice, and Hannes’s ears turned red.

“Maria! I’m so sorry. What are you doing here?”

Maria looked at her elbow, which had also been grazed, and then at Hannes. “I’m off this afternoon and was on my way to see a friend. What are you doing jogging around here? Don’t you have a murder to investigate?”

Hannes had momentarily forgotten the reason for his jog, and now he peered cautiously around a parked car. The bike was still standing in front of the shops, but Leonie was nowhere to be found. He carefully got up and explained the reason for his bizarre appearance.

“And now I’ve probably lost track of Ms. Kustermann,” he said in frustration.

“Well, I’m sorry I got in your way,” Maria said sarcastically and gently picked a small stone from the wound in her knee.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just so focused on chasing the suspect. I’m probably just a bad cop,” he said.

“I’d say so,” teased Maria as she pushed a strand of hair from her face. “Because if you’re trailing that green bike, you just missed the owner coming out of the pharmacy.”

Hannes looked just in time to catch the bike turning down a side street. “Sorry, but I have to follow her. Let me make it up to you! How about dinner?”

“I’ll think about it,” Maria said.

Hannes sprinted toward the side street. He sensed Maria watching him from behind and hoped she appreciated her view of him as much as he had of her.

Fritz was careful to track Schneider’s BMW without being noticed and initially stayed behind the green Toyota, which seemed to be following Schneider’s same path.

A few moments later, the black convertible suddenly accelerated and made a series of quick turns onto several side streets only to end up back on the main road. Fritz was surprised to note that the green Toyota was still following Schneider’s car and had also picked up the pace. Apparently, someone else was interested in following him, but who and why?

Schneider accelerated and blew through the intersection by the old water tower before disappearing behind a bend in the road. A moment later, the light turned yellow and Fritz accelerated and swerved into the opposite lane. Fortunately, the driver coming from the opposite direction had stopped at the traffic light, so the road was clear. Fritz easily passed the Toyota, glancing at the driver—a man with his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Fritz zoomed by and was relieved when he saw Schneider’s car in the distance. Schneider made a sharp left onto a street of row houses on one side and a public park on the other. Fritz cautiously turned down the street and stopped behind a parked Jeep. He watched as the black BMW slowed and eventually pulled into a parking space. Schneider got out, glanced around, and trotted across the street to the park.

Fritz opened his door and followed, staying behind the parked cars in case he needed to take cover. He was so focused that he didn’t notice the green Toyota turn down the same road and pull into the last free parking space.

Hannes was running out of breath and wondered whether his break from training had taken its toll. It was already well past three o’clock, and the cyclist struggled to pick up her pace. She turned down a dirt path in the public park. The path wound through a small forested area, and Hannes was glad to escape the sun. His jeans clung to his legs, and his shirt was drenched in sweat. Birds chirped all around, and he could hear the laughter of children in the distance.

Suddenly, the bike turned onto a small path that led down to a hollow. From previous jogs, Hannes knew the path snaked around a shady pond before heading uphill again on the other side. Up ahead, on the shore of the small lake, stood a man in white linen pants and a red polo shirt. He was looking at the water, so Hannes could only see his profile. When the woman stopped and got off her bike, the man turned to her, and Hannes was now absolutely certain it was Florian Schneider. The past two days had clearly taken their toll on him. His once-straight posture and arrogance had given way to sagging shoulders and an exhausted face.

Hannes was surprised to see Leonie Kustermann wrap her arms around him. Schneider tried to push her away in embarrassment. She pulled a manila envelope out of her bag and handed it to him. He took out a small stack of papers and leafed through it while Ms. Kustermann watched.

Hannes took advantage of this opportunity to sneak closer, using the bushes as cover whenever possible. He forced himself to breathe quietly so as not to betray his position. His pulse gradually returned to normal, but after the long run he felt hotter and sweatier.

He gently pushed a branch aside to get a clearer view. They talked in hushed voices. Schneider stuffed the papers back into the envelope and affectionately stroked Ms. Kustermann’s arm to calm her. Unfortunately, Hannes was too far away to overhear them.

He noticed a small movement near a thick oak tree, which stood directly opposite him on a slope behind the couple. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, chose the camera function, and zoomed in on the tree. A grin crept over his face as an owl-like head appeared on the screen, peering from behind the mighty tree trunk. Old Fritz had managed to track down Schneider. He was certainly one tough cop!

The conversation between Schneider and Ms. Kustermann became more heated; Hannes directed his attention back to the pond. She was furiously waving her arms and violently pushed him. And then it happened: there was a loud crack opposite Hannes, and Schneider and Ms. Kustermann turned around. A man, who had apparently lost his footing, skidded down the slope and landed only a few feet from the water.

“I knew it!” shouted Schneider. “I told you I was being followed, but you wouldn’t believe me!”

Enraged, he dropped the envelope and stomped over to the fallen man. He leaned down and angrily grabbed him by the shirt collar, then shook him so forcefully that Hannes became seriously worried and wondered who the man was.

“How long have you been spying on me?” Schneider yelled, his fist raised.

Then there was another loud crack followed by the sound of rustling leaves. “Police! Let go of him immediately!” Fritz made his way down the slope, aiming his gun at Schneider. Ms. Kustermann let out a scream and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Schneider stood up and glared at the detective. “You again! At least you came at the right time. Arrest this guy immediately!”

“Why?” Fritz asked as he slowly approached.

“Because he’s probably the one who’s been following me for days! Here!” Schneider kicked at a digital camera that the small pudgy man was holding. “He’s been taking photos!”

Hannes left his hiding place and walked up. Fritz looked at his sweat-soaked clothes. “Glad you could make it,” he joked but could not hide his approval.

“It just keeps getting better and better,” Schneider said. “So three people have been following me this whole time!”

“Apparently,” Fritz said. “And I bet you know why.”

“No, I have no idea why!”

Hannes picked up the discarded envelope and pulled the papers out. “Property Description” was written at the top of every one. He realized the documents were for a simple real estate deal.

Fritz took a closer look at the stranger for the first time. His wire-rimmed glasses were slightly crooked as a result of Schneider’s attack, and grass and mud were stuck to his sweaty bald head.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Fritz asked him.

The man timidly fixed his glasses. “I’m a private detective,” he said, and an angry Schneider immediately started punching him.

“Enough!” shouted Fritz. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

Blinded by rage, Schneider continued to pummel the man. Hannes rushed forward and pulled Schneider off. He dragged him away and tossed him into the small pond. After a few seconds, a sputtering Schneider emerged from the water.

“You have my respect,” Fritz said behind him. “That side job of yours certainly doesn’t hurt your athletic prowess. But handcuffs probably would have sufficed.”

“Would you really have fired on him?” Hannes asked.

“At my age, I’m not going to throw myself in front of some deranged man. See to the private detective. He needs medical attention.”

Hannes determined that the whimpering detective hadn’t suffered any major injuries.

“What do you want from me?” Schneider asked Fritz in an exhausted voice.

“The same as yesterday. I want to talk to you about the dead woman we found on the beach. We had planned to visit you yesterday, but you vanished.”

“Listen, I already told you the other day that I didn’t—”

“Well, since then, there have been some crucial developments. A witness has come forward and identified you and your boat. He claims he saw you at the aforementioned stretch of beach. You dropped anchor and argued with a blonde woman on board. A few hours later, a blonde woman was found dead on that very beach. The victim was Helene Ternheim, and you’ve done business with her before.”

“That’s quite the story you got there. I don’t even know a Helene Ternheim.”

“No? Then how is it that you sold this supposedly unfamiliar Ms. Ternheim a penthouse on Sun Street down by the harbor three years ago?”

“Ah, I remember that penthouse, what a unique place! But I don’t remember the name of the buyer. All I heard was that she worked for a large corporation.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Fritz said. “You’re claiming it was purely by chance that you were at the same spot where Ms. Ternheim was later found dead?”

“Why would I have killed her? The sale went smoothly. And since then, I’ve had nothing to do with this woman. So what reason would there have been?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Maybe it was about money? Evidently, you can’t get enough of it.”

“So now envy’s a reason to arrest an innocent man?”

“I’m not envious, and certainly not of you. Who do you think we are? The Keystone Cops? I hate to disappoint you. I’ve made inquiries about you, and we discovered something very interesting. Because of the agreement of sale with Ms. Ternheim, or rather because of unpaid taxes on the commission, you got into quite a lot of trouble. Suddenly the sale doesn’t seem to have gone too smoothly.”

Schneider’s face turned white. “That . . . that was years ago. I was convicted and paid my fine—not without any difficulty, I might add. Besides, I had a deal with her. Unfortunately, she wanted to double dip and save money on my commission and on her taxes.”

“Ms. Ternheim told a different story. Why did you issue an invoice if there was a deal?”

“I was naive. She told me she needed the invoice to keep her finances in order.”

“Weren’t you pretty mad at her? Maybe even to this day?” Fritz said.

“Of course I was mad at her, but not enough to wait three years to kill her.”

“There are one too many coincidences, don’t you think? So who was this blonde on your boat?”

Schneider stared at Fritz.

“Well? You don’t want to tell me?”

“It was me” came the answer from behind him.

Fritz turned and looked at Ms. Kustermann. “You don’t need to lie for your boss and get yourself in trouble.”

“I’m not . . . I was the one on board.” Hannes noticed that Leonie, in spite of her impressive bust size, had a very girlish demeanor.

“Why?”

“What kind of a question is that?” the private detective asked. “They’re clearly having an affair!”

Suddenly, the young woman burst into tears. “We’re . . . we’re not having an affair . . . We love each other. We’re a couple.”

“Leonie, please,” Schneider said, but she slapped his hand away.

“And we were fighting because I’m pregnant, and he wants me to have an abortion!” She crouched into a ball and cried uncontrollably.

Fritz remembered Tom’s description of the fight on the boat and cleared his throat.

“Is that true?” he asked Schneider.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Fritz rolled his eyes. “Why have you been hiding from us?”

“It wasn’t from you! I got the feeling I was being watched. I was afraid Leonie and I hadn’t been careful enough and my wife had become suspicious.”

“And as it turns out, she was right about her suspicions,” said the private detective.

“So what do you know then?” Schneider said. “My wife’s been screwing our gardener for a while now. Do you think I don’t know that? But she probably didn’t blab about that to you, did she? She started sleeping with the guy long before there was anything between Leonie and me.”