Time Heals No Wounds (25 page)

F
RIDAY
N
IGHT INTO
S
ATURDAY
M
ORNING

Finally awake! From a dream that could not be shaken off for years. However, relief is short-lived. The sadistic director of these dreams has just devised a new variant: a nightmare embedded in another nightmare.

The eyes peer from a face dripping with sweat at the beloved body lying peacefully sleeping under a blanket only a few inches away. The face is relaxed, the hands folded.

Suddenly this body struggles to breathe, hands clutch at the chest, and then—cruel immobility. The ever-familiar chest rises and falls no more.

Fear, chaos, panic, screams. Someone shakes the motionless body. Strange men in orange jackets, electrodes of a defibrillator placed on the bare chest, the lifeless body jolts. Again and again.

Then, silence and emptiness. Forever.

S
ATURDAY
M
ORNING

A loud knock roused Hannes from sleep. Anna was still asleep, but the pounding at the door finally woke her. She pushed the blanket aside. Hannes watched the rise and fall of her chest, veiled only by her shirt. He carefully climbed over her and walked to the front door. He was surprised when he opened it and found Fritz flanked by two colleagues in uniform.

“Did I oversleep again?” asked Hannes.

“No, I’m not here because of you. I’m here because of him!” Fritz pointed at Ben, who was just coming out of his bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked and rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah, Fritz, what is going on? What do you want from him?”

“Mr. Sattler, you’re under arrest,” Fritz said. “Please put some clothes on.”

“What?” Hannes gasped. “Why do you want to arrest Ben? Because of the protest yesterday?”

“If you consider the murder of Mr. Ternheim a form of protest, then you’re absolutely right.”

“I have nothing to do with a murder,” Ben said, outraged.

“See to it that he puts on clothes and doesn’t escape through the bathroom window!” Fritz said.

“Fritz,” whispered Hannes, “what makes you think Ben has something to do with Ternheim’s murder? Just because his group briefly hijacked the event doesn’t mean they killed the managing director.”

“You may be right, but the fact that your friend’s fingerprints were found on the tattoo machine is pretty damning.”

Hannes froze.

“You heard right. Forensics examined the fingerprints last night. They were a little smudged, but could still be used against our database. Ben’s prints are a 95 percent match with those found on the machine. The remaining 5 percent you can attribute to the smudge. He probably tried to wipe it clean but missed a spot.”

“But, I . . . I can’t believe it! Ben wouldn’t—”

“How long have you known him? A week? And that’s enough for you to judge whether he’s capable of murder?” He forced a laugh. “I’ve arrested murderers who spent years leading normal family lives, and no one, not even their wives, had the slightest suspicion. Besides, I didn’t say he had to be the killer. But he at least held the tattoo machine in his hands, maybe while someone else stuffed Mr. Ternheim like a Christmas goose. Thirty banknotes were removed from his mouth and trachea.”

The idea that Hannes had been fooled by Ben was unfathomable for him.

“We were able to find out more about this group too,” Fritz said. “The boys managed to fake ID cards. It’s unclear how they came across an original to use as a template. They set everything up in the afternoon so all they had to do in the evening was plug in the cable and play their message in the hall. They probably hid somewhere in the building until the start of the event. Your friend is pretty recognizable, and an employee was able to recall a young man with blond dreadlocks.”

Hannes leaned against the door frame.

“You all right over there?” Fritz yelled to his colleagues in the hallway, who were waiting outside Ben’s bedroom door. “What’s taking so long?”

The police officers shrugged. “Hurry up!” one of them yelled and pushed the door open. “Holy shit!” He ran into the room.

Fritz rushed to the end of the corridor, followed by Hannes.

Except for the officers, the bedroom was empty, and the window was wide open.

“Watching the bathroom window doesn’t mean you can leave him alone in here! Damn it!” Fritz ran to the window and scanned the area behind the house. “He’s gone.”

He led Hannes into the hall, while the other officers spoke frantically into their radios and gave a physical description. “It is unbelievable,” he said. “The guy was sitting in front of us the whole time, and when we finally realized who he was, those two idiots let him escape. Ben probably let you stay because he knew you were working on the case. He even helped with the investigation by giving you background information on Lagussa. He just wanted to find out what leads we were foll—”

He paused as the door to the guest room opened and Anna came out in her underwear and a T-shirt. Fritz looked back and forth between her and Hannes.

“That’s . . . I should . . .” Hannes said. “It’s not how it looks.”

“It’s true,” Anna said. “I was afraid to be alone last night, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Uh, sure,” Fritz said, scratching his head. “Anyway, Hannes, put something on, I’ll be out here.”

“What’s going on?” Anna whispered as Hannes ushered her back into the room and closed the door.

He tried to explain the new twist in a whisper.

“You mean I spent the night in the murderer’s house? That he was the one who stuck that note on my bike?” She collapsed on the bed and stared at Hannes in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Evidently, I’m not so good at reading people. I’ve only known Ben a few days. I probably should’ve wondered more why he was so quick to offer me the room. Now I’m going to look like a complete moron to everyone at the station.”

He put on some clothes. Anna watched him in silence.

“Where should I go now?” she asked. “Certainly not home. But I can’t stay here either.”

“Can you stay with another friend for the day?”

“Probably. I’m beginning to feel like a criminal myself, running from one hiding spot to the next. Can’t I get some personal protection—from you?” She gave a mischievous grin.

“In extreme cases, yes. I don’t think you’re at risk. Ben knows we’re on his heels, and you’ve already told us everything you know. Spend the day with friends, I’ll contact you later, and then we can decide what to do.”

“All right. Let me put some clothes on first.”

Hannes left the room and walked over to Fritz in the living room. Suddenly, the young police officer ran in.

“Fritz, you have to look at what we found in the bedside table.” He waved a plastic bag, which Hannes immediately recognized.

Fritz picked up the bag and looked inside. He showed the contents to Hannes. “Those are twenties. The notes removed from Mr. Ternheim were all twenties.”

Colleagues from forensics had arrived and began to comb the house.

“Is there a café near here?” Fritz asked. “I skipped breakfast today.”

“There’s a bakery down the street. Should I go get us something?”

Fritz looked at Hannes in irritation. “What do you mean ‘get’? Do you think we’re just going to sit out on our main suspect’s patio and have a leisurely breakfast? I hope you realize you’ll have to move back into your apartment today.”

“There’s a small café on the way to my apartment. They do a good breakfast,” Hannes said. “Let me get my stuff out of the guest room.”

“Do that,” said Fritz. “And bring Ben’s laptop, which we’re seizing as evidence.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be catching this Ben guy instead of sitting here having breakfast?” Anna teased as she sat down opposite Hannes and Fritz at the small café.

“Can’t catch criminals on an empty stomach,” Fritz said as he sliced a croissant down the middle. “Besides, we have guys on it. Everyone’s keeping an eye out for him, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll put his picture in the paper and on television. Hannes, do you know anyone from Ben’s activist group? He could be holing up with one of them.”

“Nope. They’re kind of just a random group.”

Socks looked at Hannes with sad eyes and whined.

“There, there, it’s all right.” Hannes patted Socks. “I don’t know where Ben is either, but we’ll find him soon.”

“I think the poor guy’s hungry,” Anna said, and Socks licked his lips and barked twice.

“You’re right! He wasn’t given anything to eat.”

Hannes quickly ran to a small supermarket and returned with a pack of dry dog food. Anna had asked the waiter for a bowl of water, and Socks scarfed down his breakfast.

Hannes suddenly had an idea. He grabbed Ben’s laptop and started it up.

“What are you doing?” asked Fritz.

“There’s Wi-Fi here. I want to show Anna the documents about Lagussa’s Nazi past collected by Ben’s network.”

“And what good will that do?” she asked.

“If they’re the same images and documents that were also in Ms. Ternheim’s bag, then we can assume the material came from Ben’s circle.”

“Or from Ben,” said Fritz. “Maybe he even passed himself off as Mark von Wittenberg.”

“You once accidentally saw Ms. Ternheim meeting with this mysterious von Wittenberg guy, right?” Hannes said. Anna nodded. “I know you only looked briefly, but was he a tall young guy with blond dreadlocks?”

“Definitely not. He stood with his back to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but he definitely didn’t have blond dreadlocks. He also didn’t look too young.”

“How can you be so sure if you didn’t see his face?” asked Fritz.

“No idea. It’s just a gut feeling, probably because of his posture. Anyway, it couldn’t have been Ben.”

“That means it was someone else from the group, if they’re the same documents,” Fritz said.

“It doesn’t necessarily mean it was someone from Ben’s group,” Hannes said. “Several groups have access to the forum and archive. Damn it! I of course forgot the piece of paper with the log-in information. Without the password, I can’t get on.”

“Try www.truth-about-lagussa.de,” said Fritz. “According to the video from last night, all the information is supposed to be posted on the site.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Hannes typed in the address and the page loaded. “That actually all looks very familiar to me. Anna, take a look, please.”

She held the laptop in her lap and concentrated on the screen, opening file after file.

“Well,” she finally said. “I recognize some of this—photos, for example, and then this document here and the delivery receipt.” She turned the computer so the detectives could see the screen. “But I didn’t look too closely at the papers in the office, and it’s been a while.”

“Hmm, so maybe, maybe not,” Fritz said.

“I don’t think so,” said Hannes. “There was nothing about this elsewhere on the Internet, and the documents on the site come from a variety of sources and whistle-blowers. No one person could have had all of them without first downloading them from the site.”

“But why would someone from this network give Ms. Ternheim the documents if there was already a plan to expose these things?” asked Anna.

“That’s exactly it,” said Hannes. “I don’t think it was someone from Ben’s group! Mr. Ternheim received an anonymous warning last night. Maybe the same person provided Ms. Ternheim with the information—either because the person read in the forum that a protest was in the works and he just wanted to warn Ms. Ternheim, or because he wanted to take action against Lagussa, just not publicly.”

“Maybe blackmail?” Anna said.

“This is all wild speculation,” Fritz said. “Of course we should consider all angles, but we have a prime suspect we need to focus on now. Whatever role von Wittenberg played is beside the point.”

“Who’s going to take care of Socks?” asked Anna.

Hannes sighed and looked at Fritz. “I’ll have to take him . . .”

“Absolutely not,” Fritz said. “We can’t take care of a dog now too. Ms. Stahl?”

“I guess,” she said. “I can watch him today, but you’ll have to take over tonight, Hannes.”

“Agreed,” he said. Then his phone began vibrating on the table, and he picked it up. He listened to the caller for a minute without speaking. “Are you absolutely certain?” he asked and then thanked the caller. “I don’t think we should focus just on Ben. That was a colleague from the federal police. I asked her to look into the flight info for Merlin’s dealer.”

“I completely forgot about that guy,” Fritz said.

“There’s no doubt about it. Laval lied to me. He returned from the US last week on Friday and not, as he claimed, the day before yesterday.”

“Here!” Fritz slammed two photos down on Hannes’s desk back at the station. The two of them sat side by side and leaned over the close-ups. “The left image shows Helene Ternheim’s arm, the right photo was taken last night of Christian Ternheim’s arm.”

“What happened to your arm?” asked Hannes, pointing to a giant bandage.

“Oh, nothing. My neighbor has a small cat. I can’t stand those things. But the neighbor accepted a package for me, and when I picked it up, that fur ball sunk its claws into my arm. Now you know why I prefer dogs . . . But back to the Ternheims, Hannes.”

Hannes grinned, then grabbed the two pictures to take a closer look. “We can only decipher three numbers off Ms. Ternheim’s. The first is a four, the next two are illegible. Then come an eight and a two. And the last we’re not sure about.”

“That’s right,” said Fritz. “The first four numbers are clearly visible on Mr. Ternheim, a four, a one, a three, and an eight. The other two aren’t very clear.”

“So the four and the eight are in the same position on both arms,” Hannes said. “And here: the second number on Ms. Ternheim could be a one or maybe a seven.”

“And the fifth number on Mr. Ternheim resembles a two,” said Fritz. “It appears it’s the same sequence. The question is, what’s the last number, and why do both victims have it?”

“And the next question is why Mr. Ternheim had money crammed down his throat. Maybe Anna was right, and it’s the result of blackmail?”

“Possible,” Fritz said.

“At least it’s now definitely clear that Ms. Ternheim was the victim of a violent crime,” said Hannes. “What does the senior medical examiner have to say about Maria’s assumption that Mr. Ternheim was also drugged with a sedative?”

Fritz moved with a groan. “Still nothing. You’re visiting Maria at noon. The results should be available then.”

“And what do I do until then?”

“Grab a car and drive out to see Old Ternheim. Someone has to inform him of his son’s death.”

“Why me?”

“Because I have a doctor’s appointment. After that, I’d like to keep an eye on our colleagues to make sure the search for Ben is done properly. I don’t want him to get away again. We should get a move on. The boss called me last night. He wanted to give us backup when he learned of the second death. It took me a while, but I convinced him to hold off. I explained that having to bring additional colleagues up to speed would be more of a hindrance. Steffen gives us until Monday. If we haven’t solved the case by then, Isabelle and Per will be joining us.”