Time Heals No Wounds (30 page)

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Authors: Hendrik Falkenberg

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #World Literature, #European, #German, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #International Mystery & Crime, #Police Procedurals, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Literary Fiction, #Thrillers

BOOK: Time Heals No Wounds
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L
ATE
S
UNDAY
M
ORNING

Something was eating away at him, but Hannes couldn’t make sense of it. Socks crunched on some cereal as the first few clouds pushed in front of the morning sun, and the wind picked up. A change in weather seemed imminent. Hannes decided to move his research inside and gathered the remains of his breakfast. Socks had inhaled the cereal and now roamed the apartment. Hannes washed the dishes and retired to the couch in the living room.

Hannes opened the forum. He stared at the screen, deep in thought. This time he didn’t go into the archives with the stored documents but clicked on the discussion group entitled “Lagussa.” It probably wouldn’t get him anywhere, but he wanted to know who had already written on the topic.

He jumped when he reached the second page. Ben had told him someone in the forum had a mother who had been a victim of medical experiments carried out by NGCP in a concentration camp. He found the entry under the heading “Medical Experiments by NGCP”:

 

longtime reader, first-time commenter here. when sunflower uploaded ngcp’s delivery receipt to the concentration camp, it suddenly occurred to me: my mother was Jewish and imprisoned in a concentration camp. she never spoke much about this time in her life, but when I was older, she told me these sadists tested drugs on her and other prisoners. she was injected daily with something. she didn’t know what it was or what it was supposed to do. she had severe side effects, but they still injected her. i remember she told me that on the package of whatever it was there were four letters. for years, i couldn’t remember what those four letters were. but after seeing the ngcp delivery receipt, it suddenly clicked. those were definitely the letters my mother mentioned. i can confirm that the ngcp was responsible for medical experiments in at least one concentration camp.

 

Another comment by “sunflower” appeared the next day:

 

that’s terrible! what happened to your mother after the war? did she get help?

 

The answer came within an hour:

 

my mother suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. she was ashamed of what had happened, and barely sought help. how do you help someone who experienced something like that? for a while she belonged to an organization that tried to help former concentration camp prisoners, but they were ultimately unable to do anything for her. my mother took her own life when i was still a child. we were at the beach, and she walked deep into the water and never came back.

 

The author’s screen name was “wittenberge.” His first entry was on May 18, almost exactly three months before the first murder and, according to Anna, around the same time Ms. Ternheim was first contacted by Mark von Wittenberg. If Mark von Wittenberg and wittenberge were actually the same person, then Fritz’s theory was wrong and he wasn’t Ben. After all, wittenberge talked about his mother, and Ben was too young for his mother to be a concentration camp prisoner.

Hannes searched for other posts by wittenberge and eventually discovered a thread entitled “Lagussa: Accountable for NGCP’s Past?”

 

of course you can hold lagussa accountable and should. lagussa is still owned by the same family that ran ngcp. the senior head Heinrich Ternheim handed over control of the company to his children a few years ago and during the nazi era, he was already in a position of power at ngcp. i know this because my mother was the man’s childhood sweetheart. but he began to adhere more and more to nazi ideology. he was the one who eventually denounced my mother to the gestapo, after which she was deported. he destroyed my mother’s life twice because ngcp did drug experiments on her and other prisoners. lagussa and the ternheim clan must pay for these crimes!

 

Goose bumps ran down Hannes’s arms. It couldn’t be a coincidence! He was certain wittenberge and Mark von Wittenberg were the same person. But even if he called for revenge, did that make him a murderer? Was Hannes grasping at straws just to prove Ben’s innocence? Ben still could have been involved. The murderer might not have acted alone.

A small box at the right of the screen began flashing with an IM.

 

From:
emmi

 

Hi xyz!
Online
again? Where have you been lately? Heard about your protest, that was awesome! Hijack Lagussa’s gala, really top-notch! Lame that the managing director had to be killed that same night, meant the act unfortunately fell into the background. Probably wasn’t worth going
. . .
;-)

 

Clearly Ben’s username was xyz.

 

Hello? Are you asleep?
flashed on the screen.

Hannes typed,
Nope, sorry, was just in the bathroom. Thanks for the praise, but you really don’t think we had anything to do with Ternheim’s death?

What? No! It was just a joke! I know you’re die-hard pacifists. Did my information about the concentration camp prisoners help?

 

Hannes had no idea what the other user was talking about but still wrote:
Yeah, the research was really useful!

Apparently this emmi had access to information on concentration camp prisoners. After some hesitation, he typed,
I came across two names that may be directly related to Lagussa or NGCP. Can you help? I think they’re concentration camp prisoners.

I can try. I have some records up now. What are the names, and what do you want to know?

He rubbed his forehead. Perhaps this crucial piece of information would finally get him somewhere.

It’s about a Maria Löwenstein. I would like to know if someone by the name of Josef Löwenstein was interned in a camp and if he was in any way connected to her. Perhaps her husband. And what happened to them after the war?

Another IM appeared a few minutes later.

Sorry, the phone rang. I can take a look to see what I find, but it will take some time. Will you be online in a while?

About how long do you need?
he typed back. He was ecstatic!

An hour or two. Be glad that the sun’s not out, I had planned to spend my Sunday doing other things ;-)

Hannes glanced at his watch. It was a little after eleven.

No problem. I have stuff I need to do too, be back at 1:00. Thanks, you’re a tremendous help!

No problem. I’ll log back on then. Out of curiosity, why the question? Yeah, I know, curiosity killed the cat ;-)

Of course! This could be a smoking gun! You give me info, I’ll give you info ;-)

Hannes walked away from the computer. Now he could take Socks for a jog.

After showering, he opened the laptop just before 1:00 p.m. The wind had picked up speed, whistling past the windows. The thunderstorm had not yet started. The minutes passed without an IM. He drummed his fingers on the table.

Another call to Marcel delivered the sobering news that the search for Merle von Hohenstein had hit another dead end. Although a bus driver had been able to remember her, there was no trace of her along the lonely coastal roads.

Finally an IM popped up.

 

Hello, sorry, took a little longer.

No prob, just got back, anyway,
he lied.
Find anything?

Yes, I did. Maria Löwenstein arrived at the concentration camp on November 18, 1942 and remained there until the camp was liberated in early 1945. She was probably too weak to be sent on the notorious death marches during the evacuation phase. According to the documents of our victim support association, she was one of the prisoners they performed medical experiments on. Hence your interest in her?

 

He was speechless but quickly replied:

 

Exactly, I came across her name by accident. Do you know if NGCP drugs were tested on her?

The documents are not that detailed. But I did find out some other information. She was born on April 12, 1920, in northern Germany and remained here after the war. Her parents were Jewish and had a small pharmacy. Neither survived the Holocaust. As far as I can tell, not a single one of Maria Löwenstein’s close relatives made it out alive. She had no siblings. On May 2, 1949, she gave birth to a son and committed suicide on June 18, 1958.

How did she take her own life?

I dunno, ‘suicide’ was all that was written, the term fails to take into account her experiences in the concentration camp
 . . .
By the way, there’s an old photo of her in the documents my organization has. I uploaded the picture and put it in the archive.

 

Curious, he opened the archive in a new window and clicked an image file called loewenstein.jpg. The photo had yellowed a little, but the facial features of the emaciated woman were still visible. She stood at an angle, her eyes lost in the distance. Her age was difficult to estimate: her body looked young, but the sunken eyes and pinched mouth made her seem old. Hannes felt she was somehow familiar.

 

Thanks for the picture,
he wrote back.
Did you find any connection to Josef?

After the war, she had a son, and his name was Josef.

 

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over Hannes. A shiver ran down his spine.

 

What else do you know about Josef? What happened to him?

It just says: ‘Son was given up for adoption after suicide.’

 

Could it be that Josef Löwenstein was Mark von Wittenberg alias wittenberge? From the corner of his eye, Hannes noticed additional lines appear on the screen.

 

I couldn’t find anything else, but I hope it helps. By the way, I’d love to be at your next protest against Lagussa
. . .
;-) Oh, wait, one more thing: Maria Löwenstein’s son had a middle name.

 

Hannes anxiously awaited the next IM. When the name appeared on the screen, he was stunned. Everything was falling into place, and the answer was right in front of him.

 

Hello! Are you there?

Yes, and you’ve been an amazing help! It’s all so clear now!
After a brief hesitation, he typed,
One more thing: Do you have any idea who wittenberge is? He posted info on the medical experiments. Do you know his real name?

 

Nothing for several minutes. Then suddenly:

Who are you? If you’re really xyz, you’d know it’s against the rules to ask about someone’s identity. I was wondering what was up with your odd writing style. You’re getting reported!

Wait! I know the rules, but there’s an emergency! I think this wittenberge is dangerous, that’s the only reason I asked!

He hoped emmi would calm down and stared desperately at the screen. After five minutes, the screen turned dark blue and a window popped up:
You have been logged out by the webmaster.

“That’s impossible!” he shouted and typed in Ben’s log-in information. A new window popped up:
Username and/or password unknown.

“No!” he screamed. Once again, he carefully typed the username and password. The result was the same. Ben’s account had been blocked.

He fell back into his seat and moaned. Socks jumped up onto the couch and nudged his hand. The wind continued to pick up, and the living room was bathed in a diffused light. The storm would not hold off for much longer. Hannes pushed Socks off his lap and went to the window. Outside, branches waved violently in the wind. The sun peeked through the clouds one last time before disappearing behind a grayish-black wall.

He went over the details again and again. Could it really be true? The evidence seemed incontrovertible. He went to the kitchen to make some more coffee and consider his next steps.

He was startled by a loud crash on the balcony. He quickly turned around, and as he opened the balcony door, a gust of wind almost ripped it from his hand. A patio chair had been knocked over and was now leaning against the table. As he picked up an overturned potted plant, he heard Socks barking. The first flash of lightning streaked above the sea of houses.

Hannes quickly left the balcony and shut the glass door. Socks was still barking, which made him wonder how he had never been so talkative before. He followed the barking into the cramped hallway. Socks was at the front door. When he noticed Hannes, he ran up and wagged his tail.

On the floor lay a white envelope someone must have pushed through the slot. When he opened the front door, nobody was there. He picked up the letter and went into the kitchen, where he took a sharp knife and carefully opened the unmarked envelope. He tore off a paper towel and sat on the sofa. He used the paper towel to pull out the contents of the envelope, certain not to touch anything with his fingers. It was a plain white piece of paper with a few narrow lines of text—a computer printout in a font that imitated handwriting.

 

you’ve gotten closer than I had expected.

i quickly realized you would figure it all out sooner or later.

i had hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

now i must finish this sooner than planned.

don’t think it was easy for me to kill someone, it was both agony and relief.

and yet i had to do it because guilt must not go unpunished.

i do not believe in divine justice, only earthly retribution.

retribution for murder, for torture, for suffering.

the history of the prestigious ternheim family is one of murder, torture, and suffering.

forced laborers, concentration camp prisoners, and patients.

thousands of people have lost their lives or their health for the sake of this family’s ruthless greed.

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