Heroine: The Husband's Cologne (14 page)

“Norman, Horst said that Erich didn't know anything about it.  He wanted to take me away from Erich and 'break me in.'” Do you know what he meant by that?”  Norman gave out a groan. 

“You realize you just barely saved yourself, don't you?  'Breaking someone in' is pimp jargon.  What it means is that they beat the women into submission to prepare them for their business.  And they use every perversion imaginable.  The girls become so afraid after that, that they would rather obey any order than go through it again.  They break them.  Even among pimps, the guys who do this are seen as the lowest of the low.”

“But why do you see so many women prostituting themselves on the street?  You mean to say they've all been beaten?” I asked, appalled. 

“I have no idea; you psychologists should know more about that.  I suppose many of them do it voluntarily, to make some quick cash.  But many of the ones who work for Horst are clearly doing it out of fear.”

My panic was slowly giving way to a cold lucidity. 
You must really be naïve...
I remembered Tanja saying to me.  She was right.  But now, deep within me a world had collapsed, and from the smoke rising out of the rubble there emerged the knowledge that I had narrowly escaped my own enslavement.  But did Tanja really know about her husband’s plans? Hadn’t she said that she loved me?

“This is what you're going to do: call Tanja on her cell phone and tell her that you've thought about it and decided you're not going to work for her. 
Nothing more, nothing less.  No emotion, no tears, no justification.  After that, we're going to drive over to your apartment, pack up as many of your things as possible and come back here.  You're going to stay with me for the next few days, until things have calmed down somewhat,” I heard Norman declare amidst the fog of my thoughts.  I nodded, resigned and happy that he had taken the decision out of my hands. 

As I spoke hastily with Tanja I floundered a few times, but finally recited my speech to the end, anxiously awaiting her response so that I could put down the phone.  She was silent for what seemed like a long time.  This appeared to be one of her trademarks now. 

“My dear, on one hand I am sad to be losing you.  But I would have lost you even if you had come to work for us.  Please listen to me, there's something I have to tell you, and I'm not trying to change your mind.  In fact, if you had agreed to do this, I would have tried to talk you out of it.”  Her voice was eerily calm. 

“I've changed in the last few days.  Many years ago I was pregnant with a girl who I lost shortly before I was to give birth.  Horst was partly to blame for that. 
Regardless.  I have fallen in love with you, and only yesterday I realized that it was somehow connected with the loss I experienced.  You could be my daughter.  She would have been about your age now.  I still haven't gotten over her death.  Horst pressured me into trying to convince you to move in with us and hustle for him.  Even before the night at Erich's I didn't want Horst to pressure you and use you for the party, but he beat me up badly.  That's why I had the black eye.  That guy Igor is behind this.  Since he's been around, I don't recognize Horst anymore.”

My hands started trembling and I couldn’t say a word. She continued. 

“I couldn't sleep last night because I couldn't stand seeing you in the same situation that I was once in.  He ruined my life and the lives of many other young women, and initially I tried to get you to work for us because I was very afraid of Horst.  But he's not going to do that to you, because I'm not going to let him.  I love you with all my heart, and that's why I'm happy that I didn't have to talk you out of it.

“Please be careful.  Horst and especially Igor are dangerous men and will not only hold it against you, but they're hell-bent on getting their hands on you.  They know how much money they could make selling you out at parties.  And another thing: please don't drink any alcohol or take any drugs for the next few months.  Do you remember that horrible tasting drink that Horst gave you a few days ago?  That was a drug, not only to put you into a trance but to stimulate you.  It’s some concoction of ecstasy, painkillers, heroin and other junk that gets rid of all your inhibitions.  Without it you could not have
withstood the pain, because you're still not used to that kind of thing.  But that drug is addictive and the other substances only make it stronger.  Horst got it from Igor.  That's why I'm telling you not to take anything for a few months.

“Now take care of yourself.  I wish I could give you a hug, but it will have to be over the phone.  I'm happy I told you everything, and maybe now I can find some peace of mind.  I love you.”

The line went dead and all I heard was a faint buzz.  Dazed and numb, I stared at the phone in my hand and then collapsed onto the sofa.  At that moment, my legs could not have carried me anywhere.

  
I was still silent in Norman's car as we made our way through the dark to my apartment.  Staying alone in my own apartment was too dangerous, Norman had told me, and so we’d agreed that I would move into his loft. Now we were on the way of picking my clothing. When we got there Norman pulled over onto the sidewalk because we couldn't find a parking spot.  He accompanied me up to my dimly lit flat, took the keys from me at the door, and to my surprise withdrew a short, thick billy club from his jacket.

He unlocked the door, opened it slightly, and paused.  Then he kicked it in with full force so that it swung open, knocking against the wall with a bang.  Only now did he switch the lights on, peering carefully into the entrance.  My heart was pounding in my throat, and I was increasingly aware of the danger I was in.  Two floors down
I heard the door open and my neighbor call up:

“Miss
Juliane, is that you?  What are you doing?”

“Everything's fine, Mrs.
Köfer-Schmalz.  I just opened the door a little too hard because I'm loaded with shopping bags.  I'm shutting the door now, but I'll be quieter.”  Her shuffling steps indicated she was reassured, and we were alone again.  But no doubt she was irritated that I hadn't addressed her as “headmistress.”

To our relief, there was no one in the apartment.  I took my suitcase and Daniel's and threw as much stuff as I could possibly fit inside.  Some of my clothes were still at Erich's; I would have to think of a way of getting them back somehow.  We locked the door behind us as we left and tiptoed quietly down the steps.  We had to make
several trips before I had all my suitcases out front.  Norman packed my all my stuff into his Golf, filling it to the brim. 

As we made our way back in his car, I saw a black four-by-four with tinted windows pulling out of a parking spot.  It was the same model car that Horst drove.  Frightened, I told Norman. 

“Lock your door,” he ordered.  Beginning to shake, I followed his instructions.  At the next light Norman came to a stop and put it in first gear, although the light was green.  The black car came to a halt behind us, but nothing happened.  Then as the light turned red, Norman stepped on the gas.  The black car followed suit.  Now it was clear that it was either Horst or Igor following us.  Norman turned into a side street, which led back to the old quarter of the city.  A sign indicated the start of the pedestrian zone.  Slowly we entered the area off limits for vehicles and crossed the virtually deserted shopping mall.  The black car was still on our tail.  The car park seemed to be Norman's next objective.

“Let's see if they're willing to risk coming inside here.  One of the exits is much narrower than the entrance, so he should have some problems getting through it,” my driver bellowed over to me. Norman withdrew a ticket at the entrance in a hurry and ascended the ramp. 

“But how are we going to get out of here?  We have to pay for the ticket and they'll be right there when we get out of the car!”  I asked, terrified now. 

“Let's try the old trick of busting out of here without paying,” Norman said with a laugh.  He raced through the car park and made his way back to the exit.  The barrier stood in the way but he didn't slow down and
with a loud crack it flew against the side wall as he thundered through it. 

  “Those barriers are fit in loosely.  People often just drive through them, that's why they make them so that they can put them right back in.  It's a little less dramatic than in the movies where they always go to pieces.”  He was grinning broadly.  Behind us we heard a loud screech, the sound of metal scraping against concrete.  The black car was stuck on the ramp.  The driver had obviously not seen the signs warning of the lower ceiling at the exit.  He might have chosen a different way out. 

“My car is still registered in Holland under my parents' name, so they can forget blackmailing somebody for my address.  The Dutch don't give out anything to the German authorities.” 

I felt like I was starring in a crime thriller, and now my fear slowly began to shift into a feeling of suspense and a sense of adventure.  With Norman at my side we were going to give these bastards hell. 

We drove the rest of the way home undisturbed and once we got there began carrying up my things to the attic floor, finally collapsing breathless onto the sofa. 

“I'll make us a tea, but a strong Frisian one, like the one I drink at home, not the bland stuff they make here in Germany,” Norman said, making his way to the little nook that was his kitchen.  I still had the earlier conversation with Tanja swirling through my head.  I hadn't told Norman about what she had said because it still puzzled me. 

“Tanja mentioned on the phone; that Horst and Igor intended to use me for parties.  Apparently, they can earn good money like that.  That's what she said.”

“Yeah, the
pimps
can earn money.  Did you by chance
see
any of the money they made?  In your case, you'd be lucky not to have to do worse than offer yourself to a group of men.”

“Worse? 
Such as?”  Norman came back into the room with a teapot and two cups. 

“
Juliane, please.  There are things in this world that you don't want to know about in your current state.  Let's change the subject.  We have to think about how we're going to get rid of these people.  Do you want a schnapps with your tea?  I have some great jenever.”

I shook my head.

“Tanja told me not drink any alcohol.  At the party Horst gave me a cocktail of some narcotic that causes addiction.  Ephedrine was probably in there, and something else that makes you horny and eliminates all inhibitions.  Apparently alcohol enhances the effects so she said that I should stay away from it for a while.”

Norman's look made my stomach churn.  His eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets.  Only after a few moments did he speak up again. 

“You seemed to have really suffered emotionally.  I've never seen you so out of sorts and distraught like this.  The things that I'm hearing from you give me shivers,” he said, looking at the floor.  “Does this have anything to do with Daniel leaving you alone?  Do you feel like he abandoned you?”

I nodded.  Something inside me clicked.  For an instant it dawned on me that I was no longer capable of differentiating between reality and my desires and yearnings.  But as fast as it had surfaced, this crystalline thought was swallowed up by the sluggish fog in my
head.  What remained was the certainty that I needed someone's help.  I had stumbled into a predicament from which I couldn't escape alone.  As things stood, had Norman sent me back to my apartment, I would have been a sitting duck for Horst and Igor and would have spent the rest of my days as their slave.  Going back to Erich was also out of the question.

He betrayed me
, I thought bitterly.  My back bristled with panic. 

“Don't worry; nothing's going to happen to you.  I'm not letting you out of my sight, and you can stay here and I'll protect you until the situation's blown over.”  Norman's calm voice seemed to float over to me through cotton wool.  Slowly the feeling of suffocation subsided and I took a few deep breaths.  He took me in his arms and repeated his words.

“First things first.  Let's make a plan, and then we'll take it from there.”

My cell phone rang from inside my purse, and I felt strong enough now to look at it.  It was Daniel's number in the U.S.  Relieved, I picked up. 

“Hi Daniel, it's so nice to hear your voice.”  Without even saying hello, he practically yelled into the phone:

“What the hell is going on with you? You haven’t called me for the last three days. I've been calling your cell phone since 8 o'clock and you never pick up.  I'm on the verge of packing my bags and taking the first flight to Cologne to see what on earth is happening.  I'm away for a couple of days, and you act as if we didn't know each other anymore.”  I burst into tears instantly and couldn't get a word out.  Daniel went silent.  Then Norman came over to me and took the phone out of my hand. 

“Hey buddy, it's me, Norman,” he said, his voice low and full-toned.  “Don't interrupt me; I have to tell you something.  We've got a situation here.  A couple of hours ago I picked your wife up from her apartment and moved all her stuff to my place... What happened?  If you stopped interrupting me, you would know by now.  Let’s restart from the beginning.  Juliane can't stay at her place any longer.  Some guy just moved in on the floor below, a real slimy bastard, might be a pimp, and he's been after her for weeks now and is starting to get a little threatening.  It doesn't look good and so I'm having her stay at my flat for now...the police?  We tried that.  They want proof, and this guy managed to talk his way out of it, claiming that she was provoking him...of course, but I'm not going to wait around till she gets raped...pull yourself together.  She's safe with me here.  And another thing:  She misses you, and even before this guy came into the picture she was miserable.  You can't leave her alone for this long.  How much longer are you out there for?”  There was silence for a moment; an unsettling sign. 

“OK, that's enough.  This is what I propose. 
Juliane clears out of here and catches the first flight to Los Angeles...Oh, you're in Silicon Valley, close to San Francisco?  That's fine, as long as she's not in the cemetery here in Cologne, it doesn't really matter where she goes...I know, I'm a cynic, and you're an oaf; leaving the most beautiful woman in the world alone in some backwater dump...alright, agreed.  Call me back as soon as possible and get hold of the tickets...a visa?  They don't require that anymore...alright, call me back.”

I looked up at Norman, my mouth agape.

“Did I hear that right?  I'm supposed to fly to the U.S., to stay with Daniel?”

“Yes, that's the good thing about your husband.  If you choose your words wisely, he understands right away and does what he can.  He was always good at organizing things. 
Juliane, please don't look at me like that.  This option just presented itself, that's all.  The farther away you are from Horst and Igor, the better.  They won't bother tracking you down in the U.S.  Another thing: Daniel is going to call again later on to speak with you.  When you two come back from the States, he wants to take you straight to Stuttgart and doesn't want you to come back to Cologne at all.”

Just a few days ago, the prospect of going to live in Stuttgart would have been like someone asking me to go live in the Arctic Circle with nothing but a t-shirt and shorts.  But right now I just wanted to get away from here.  First to the U.S. - that alone fascinated me already – then later to Stuttgart to live with the Bavarians, or the
Swabians.  It was certainly better than hanging around southern Cologne waiting to get thrashed and raped by Igor. 

“It's late.  Let's have another cup of tea and wait until your husband calls back.  In the meantime, we can chat a little more about what still needs to be done,” Norman announced.

Then a thought occurred to me.

“Why don't we call the police and tell them everything?  They could arrest Horst and Igor and put them away.”

“You're cute.  They would probably be able to put them away for one night, if you were to tell them that they wanted to rape you and that you were afraid of them.  But by tomorrow morning these lawyers from Bonn would have them back on the streets and would then raise a stink with the legal authorities.  He has friends in high places.  Places like maybe at the Rotary Club, the carnival association and so on.  I imagine that he even had one or more of these people at your party, and they know exactly how much they have to lose.  There might be a junior attorney who has the courage to press charges, but remember that we have no real proof of anything.  In fact, if the lawyers decided to put Erich on the stand, and it was revealed that you had willingly participated that night, you would lose all credibility.  Or worse, Horst might leak everything to the press.  Would you want to see your picture in the newspaper in connection with a sex scandal?”

I felt a cold pang knock the wind out of me and my legs buckled.  Norman caught me just as I was going down and laid me carefully on the sofa, raising my legs up. His face was lined with concern. 

“For God's sake, Juliane, breathe.  You can't just collapse on me like this.”

Gradually the blood that had drained from my legs returned.  My heart was racing, and there were black dots dancing before my eyes.

“Are you alright now?”  Norman asked, his features pale.  I nodded and got back to my feet. 

“That would be a disaster.  A monumental disaster,” I said, stammering.  “If my parents found out, it would kill them.  Sex is the devil's plaything as far as they're concerned.”

“Well, they must have used that plaything themselves at least twice in their lives.  And each time they got an angel out of it,” Norman quipped, trying to cheer me up.  I gave a pained laugh, amused at his gentle goofiness.  Then I cuddled up to him again and we discussed our next plan.  We had to get rid of the apartment.  Norman could take care of that.  I had to inform the university that I was leaving; I needed to do that in person.  But Norman would accompany me.  And then?  That was it.  Off to the U.S., to lie low until this thing had blown over.  What about Erich?  Norman was going to have a talk with him, as he put it. 

“Norman, please be nice to him.  He didn't know what Horst intended to do.  It's not his fault, and besides, I was really the one who came up with the idea.”