Bad Wolf (47 page)

“And you think you can simply drop by here for a little chat? ‘Hey, let’s go ask Frank. He’ll probably tell us everything.’” Behnke gave a scornful laugh. “Are you totally insane? This fucking shit has ruined my whole life! Take a look around and see what’s become of me. I’m not about to get sucked into something like that again. And definitely not for the sake of the old man and his … his golden princess!”

Bright red splotches had appeared on Behnke’s neck, and sweat was beading on his brow. His whole body was shaking. Pia knew him well enough to see that it would take only a tiny spark for him to explode.

“Come on, Christian, let’s go,” she said quietly. There was no point. Behnke was consumed by bitterness, hatred, and revenge. He wasn’t going to help them, not even if they lay bleeding right in front of him. He was the type of person who was always looking for a scapegoat for his personal misery, and in his eyes, Pia was the reason that Bodenstein had turned his back on him.

Christian wasn’t about to give up so easily. “It’s not about Bodenstein, Pia, or me. It’s about people issuing contracts for murder and then walking away scot-free.”

“You have no idea what they’re capable of. Not the faintest idea.” Frank turned and went over to the kitchenette. He grabbed a bottle of clear liquid and filled a glass to the brim.

“Who are ‘they’?” Pia asked.

Frank stared at her, then brought the glass to his mouth and drank the contents all in one gulp. His eyes wandered over the tiny room, and with a fury that frightened Pia, he threw the glass against the wall, but it didn’t break.

“There! Look at that!” Frank gave a bitter laugh. “I’m totally worthless. I can’t even make a glass break. Fucking piece of shit!”

He was far drunker than Pia had guessed. When he tried to pick up the glass, he lost his balance and stumbled against a bookshelf, which collapsed with a crash. Laughing, he rolled on the floor, but his laughter rapidly turned into a desperate sobbing. The man had changed from a sports fanatic in top condition, who ate only organic food and had never touched a cigarette, into a drunk. What had happened in March 1997 in Frankfurt had destroyed him, because he had never figured out how to process what he’d done. His honor was shattered, and his life was one big heap of rubble.

“I can’t do anything anymore,” he gasped, pounding his fist on the floor. “Not a damn thing! I’m finished, because I’m a fucking zero!”

Pia and Christian exchanged a worried look.

“Frank, come on, get up.” Christian bent over and held out his hand.

“I can’t even get a woman anymore,” Frank babbled on. “What would a woman want with somebody like me? My ex takes all my money, and I’m left with just enough to pay for this shithole!”

Those last words had come out in a howl. He straightened up, ignoring Christian’s outstretched hand, and got to his feet without assistance.

“You know what?” he said to Pia, blowing breath reeking of schnapps in her face. “I couldn’t stand you from the very first day. Wife of the rich Dr. Kirchhoff, who with her millions in stock rushed off to buy a farm and turned the heads of all the guys with her big tits. Shit! You were so fucking … efficient and so … so goddamned clever—you just couldn’t work hard enough. Compared to you, the rest of us looked like lazy pigs. You made sure to kiss the old man’s ass whenever you could.”

The alcohol made him slur his words. His hatred, bottled up for so long, had finally found an escape valve. Pia let the insults roll off her back without replying to any of them.

“Yeah, I shot three people! I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know there was an undercover guy. We went into the place because some informant ratted them out, said there was a big deal going down. Maybe I should have suspected something when they palmed off a different weapon on me. It was all rigged. When we got into the courtyard, one of the bikers fired first. What should I have done, let him gun me down? I fired back, and I was a better shot than that jerk. Double tap to the head, a third round to the throat. It was a gigantic mess. Before I knew what was happening, I was sitting in a car. And that was that. I don’t remember anything else.”

Pia believed him. They’d set a trap not only for the undercover agent Erik Lessing but for Behnke, too. He was the sacrificed pawn in a dirty game between powerful men for whom a human life had absolutely no value.

“Who was with you in the courtyard?” Christian asked.

Behnke snorted. He staggered past Pia and dropped onto the couch. They looked down at him. Despite all the curses he’d hurled at them, they felt no anger, only the deepest sympathy.

“You want to know who was with me in the courtyard?” he blurted out with eyes half-closed. “Really? You want to know who said ‘Shit, my service weapon is in the car’? I’ll tell you. Yeah, I’ll tell you all right. Because I don’t give a shit. She really took me for a ride, that ice-cold bitch. And afterward, she threatened me. If I ever said a word about it, then I’d never be happy again in my life.”

He uttered a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and slapped the arm of the couch hard. “And I never was happy again. In thirty seconds, I’d fucked up my whole life. I shot a colleague! And you know why? Because that fucking bitch ordered me to do it.”

“Who, Frank?” Christian asked, although he and Pia already knew.

“Engel.” Frank Behnke straightened halfway up, his face distorted with bitterness and hate. “Commissioner Nicola Engel.”

*   *   *

The time was 11:48
P.M.
For more than twenty-four hours, he hadn’t seen a soul or heard a sound other than a nerve-racking squeaking coming from the vent behind a barred opening near the ceiling of the cell. It was probably the only source of fresh air, because there was no window, not even a light shaft. The only light source was a dusty twenty-five-watt bulb on the ceiling, for which there was no switch. The cell smelled unused, musty and damp, like a typical basement.

Kilian Rothemund lay on the narrow plank bed, his arms behind his head, and stared at the rusty metal door, which was more solid than it looked. When he was arrested, he hadn’t felt afraid, but gradually the fear had crept up on him. He wasn’t in the custody of the Dutch police; that much was clear. But where was he? Who were the black-clad masked men who had apprehended him on the train platform? Why was he being held prisoner in this hole? How had they even known that he was in Amsterdam? Had Leonie given something away before they bound her and taped her mouth shut?

The last thing he’d had to eat were two pieces of pastry, and since then his stomach had been growling miserably. He drank the lukewarm water only in sips because he had no idea how long it would have to last. They had taken away his belt and shoelaces, even though in this room with the smooth, high walls there was nothing he could hang himself from. At least they’d left him his watch.

Rothemund closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to leave the moldy-smelling prison and fly to more pleasant realms. Hanna! The second their eyes had met for the first time, something had happened, something he’d never before experienced. He had seen her on TV, of course, but in person she was completely different. That evening, she hadn’t worn any makeup and her hair had been pulled back into a simple knot, yet she possessed a radiance that fascinated him.

Leonie couldn’t stand Hanna. Bernd’s suggestion that they present Michaela’s terrible story to the public with Hanna Herzmann’s help had not pleased her at all. Leonie said Hanna was arrogant and egotistical, without a single spark of empathy.

None of that was true.

Kilian hadn’t kept anything from Hanna. He’d been open and honest with her, even at the risk that she might not believe him. But she had believed him. A deep trust had been quick to develop between them. The tone and detail of their e-mails had changed, and out of initial fascination had grown affection. Kilian had never talked on the phone with anyone for an hour and a half, but with Hanna, it happened often. He knew after only two weeks that it was more than infatuation. Hanna made him feel like a human being again. Her firm conviction that everything would be all right, that with her support he would find his way back to a normal life, fully rehabilitated, had given him a strength that he thought he’d lost forever. Chiara would no longer have to visit him in secret at the trailer park, and maybe he would soon be able to see his children again with official permission.

He heaved a big sigh. His longing for Hanna’s voice, her carefree laughter, her warm, soft body next to his was mixed with deep concern. How he wished he could be with her now to offer her solace. Especially now. Because of her, everything had seemed to be taking a turn for the better, but then fate once again struck without mercy. Was it his fault that they had attacked her? Worry, anxiety, and helplessness transformed into despair. Suddenly, he heard something. He sat up and listened. Footsteps were approaching. A key turned in the lock. He got up from the bed, balled his hands into fists, and girded himself for whatever was coming. His despair vanished. It didn’t matter what they did to him; he would survive it, because he wanted to see his children again. And Hanna.

*   *   *

“Don’t you like it?”

Christoph was sitting across from her at the kitchen table and watching as she pushed her food back and forth on her plate. The ratatouille with rice was delicious, but Pia felt like her stomach was tied in knots.

“Yes, I do. But for some reason, I just don’t have any appetite.” Pia put down her knife and fork and sighed heavily.

The visit to Frank Behnke had given her a shock from which she hadn’t yet recovered. She knew that what she had learned would stay with her forever. She and Frank had not been friends. During the time they were both in K-11 in Hofheim, he’d always been uncooperative and grouchy, leaving the major part of the work to her and their other colleagues. He had insulted everybody and butted heads with anyone who tried to be nice to him. Like everyone else, she had decided after a while that he was simply an asshole. Even worse now was the realization that she’d been so unfair to him, because basically he was a victim. They had used him and then dropped him, ruining his mind and his conscience and destroying his whole life. Although Frank had so often hurled curses and insults at her, Pia felt unaccountably sad now that she knew how this human tragedy had played out for years almost right before her eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Christoph asked. There was a concerned expression in his dark eyes. He’d known her long enough and well enough to tell when she was merely preoccupied and needed a little rest after a stressful day and when she was truly upset about certain events. Lack of appetite was a serious reason for concern, because Pia could eat in almost any situation.

“Not at the moment.” She propped her elbows on the table and massaged the bridge of her nose. “Besides, I have no idea where to start. Good Lord, it’s all such a mess.”

But the full scope of what she had learned today in that depressing apartment was something she hadn’t comprehended until now. She and Christian had agreed for the time being not to mention to anyone what Frank had revealed, but it was obvious that they had to do something, now that they knew what had really happened back then.

Christoph didn’t say anything, didn’t try to pressure her. He never did. He got up, briefly put a hand on her shoulder, and began clearing the table.

“Leave it. I can do it,” Pia said with a yawn, but he just grinned.

“You know what, sweetie,” he told her, “the best thing would be for you to get in the shower, and then we’ll have a glass of wine together.”

“Good idea.” Pia gave him a wan smile. She got up, went to him, and threw her arms around his waist.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she murmured. “I’m sorry that I haven’t paid much attention to you and Lilly lately. I really left you in the lurch.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

“Well, that much is definitely true. I’ve been feeling totally neglected.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Pia returned his kiss and slid her hands down his back. Since Lilly was there, they hadn’t been making love. But the girl really wasn’t to blame, because for days Pia had been coming home late and jumping out of bed early in the morning to dash off to work.

“I’m sure I can think of something,” Christoph whispered in her ear, squeezing her tight. She felt his desire. The smell of his skin, the touch of his hands, his warm, slim body so close to hers ignited a spark of desire deep inside her.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Pia pressed her cheek against his. Her secret fear that daily routine might damage the physical side of their relationship remained unfounded after three and a half years. The very opposite had occurred.

“What are you thinking of?” asked Christoph with a teasing undertone.

“Of … sex,” Pia replied.

“What a coincidence.” He kissed her neck, then her lips. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

Pia pulled out of his embrace and went upstairs to the bathroom. She undressed, dropped her sweaty clothes on the floor, and stepped into the shower. The hot water washed the sticky sweat from her skin and banished all thought of Frank’s shabby apartment and his desperation, as well as the troubling notion that Bodenstein had been keeping murky secrets from her.

Christoph was already in bed when she went into the bedroom a little later. Soft music was coming from the speakers, and on the nightstand stood two glasses and a bottle of white wine. Pia slipped under the covers and into his arms. Through the wide-open French doors to the balcony, a damp, cool breeze swirled in with the fragrance of freshly mown grass and roses. The lamp with the paper shade cast a golden light on their moving limbs, and Pia savored the excitement and the wonderful feelings of lust that Christoph’s caresses awoke in her. Suddenly, the door opened. A tiny figure with tangled blond hair appeared in the doorway. Christoph and Pia sprang apart in shock.

“I had a bad dream, Grandpa,” said Lilly in a whiny voice. “Can I sleep with you?”