Nemesis: Innocence Sold (24 page)

“My partner?” Alarmed, Berger sat up straighter, but sank back down with a groan.

Sven wanted to challenge him. “Hannes Wartberg.”

That had an effect. “You’re more well informed than I thought,” Berger said. “Damn it, you’re also holding some things back. How do you know about Hannes?”

“From your boss. The one in Kiel, I mean, Dr. Eisenberg. He trusted us enough to provide us with information regarding your assignment. That doesn’t help us, however; we need your cooperation and your results.”

“Can I make a quick call?”

Sven handed him his cell phone. Considering, Berger looked at the phone. “If I call Günther now, it will take forever before we can continue. He has many good sides but simply cannot be brief. I believe you. Nevertheless, I cannot imagine that he put Hannes’s name in play.”

“That’s true. It wasn’t until Tannhäuser had asked about him specifically. We knew Wartberg had turned to the LKA in Kiel with an indeterminate suspicion. The rest was simple.”

Berger sketched his assignment and thereby confirmed the results of their own investigations. “No matter what I tried, I found no concrete evidence. I got an increasingly bad feeling. Hannes and I poked around in countless files and looked for peculiarities or commonalities. This didn’t really get us any further. It wasn’t until the son of Mr. Richter was supposed to be kidnapped and our two colleagues reacted extremely strangely that we had the feeling we were about to make a breakthrough. Röhrich had already made a negative impression on us earlier. We examined his personnel file and those of Blumenthal and Lüttgens. Without concrete proof, Röhrich was my first real suspect. I was certain he was involved. In order to lure him out of the bush, I revealed that I was after Blumenthal and Lüttgens, and he even seemed to want to help me. My conviction began to wobble, and now he seems to be off the hook. Would you tell me what the story with Blumenthal and Lüttgens is?”

Since Sven seemed lost in his own thoughts, Sandra took it upon herself to summarize the events of the previous evening.

Following her explanation there was silence. Cold air came into the room through the broken window. “Are you cold?” Sandra asked with concern when Berger shivered a little.

“No, I’m all right. I probably won’t be in this room much longer anyway.”

Sven emerged from his thoughts. “That’s true. As we speak, my partner’s arranging your death.” His wink made it clear that this was a joke. “If I know him, he’s already in contact with Kiel, and you’ll be received by your family there.” Sven pushed aside his chair, which scraped across the floor. “I hate hospitals,” he said. He indicated a spiderweb moving back and forth in the wind in front of the undamaged window. “We’re dealing with someone who’s sitting in the middle of a web like a spider and who has held all the threads in his hand and controlled everything up to now. At least this is what he believes. It’s about time we penetrated the center and destroyed the spider. We must take a look at the documents you and Wartberg collected. This is where we’ll find the reason why you were supposed to be disassembled into your component parts.”

Sandra didn’t let the spiderweb out of her sight. How did that fit with her Internet research? With the children who had disappeared? One man who was controlling events. Why? For profit? Prestige? What about the guys who had been planning to take out the private detective? She had a thought. She opened her mouth but closed it again.

“What were you going to say, Sandra?” Sven asked.

“The spider. It protects its web. By any means necessary. Why? We agreed that it cannot be primarily about money. Fifty thousand for a child—that’s not going to make you rich by their standards. But what if it’s about the clients? Think about what I said to you about the motives. Bored guys with seemingly no boundaries. Looking for the ultimate kick. He’s sitting in the middle, supplying his friends and acquaintances with children, and then—” She broke off and considered whether she was getting too far away from reality. “But is there really a demand so great it would be worthwhile? Or is it really a matter of abuse of power?”

Sven nodded. “I’m guessing the first. He knows his clients, who probably come from the same circles as he does, and thus has the ideal means of blackmailing them. Now I also have a sense of how those sonny boys from last night fit into the picture.”

Puzzled, Sandra tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do see the picture you’re seeing, but where does it begin and end? Who could it be? And if we’re right, it would be a nightmare.”

Sven considered Berger’s wrecked face. “It already is, Sandra. And it’s time we ended it.”

CHAPTER 24

Sandra’s conversation with Sven ended abruptly when Dirk and Daniel returned at almost the same time. While Daniel was interested in the readings displayed by two devices monitoring Berger’s vitals, Dirk informed the policeman of their plan, to which Berger agreed after having considered it briefly.

Without waiting for a response to his knock, the doctor Sandra had seen with Pat earlier entered the room. He came directly over to her and bowed slightly. “Excuse my manners, but it was a bit hectic earlier. Konstantin von Blücher, but the first name’s of course fine for Daniel’s charming girlfriend.”

Bewildered by the formal introduction, Sandra stuttered when she gave her name. “The first name’s sufficient, of course,” she said more calmly.

Daniel seemed to have guessed her thoughts; he grinned at her before he turned to Konstantin and indicated a monitor displaying numerical values that were cryptic to Sandra. “I don’t want to interfere in your treatment, but the trip to the Baltic clinic seems like it might be too stressful in the wake of the excitement up to now.”

Konstantin indicated a tray on the nightstand on which some ampoules and syringes lay. “I agree with you; our ambulances are not exactly known for their comfort. Mr. Berger’s not going to begrudge himself a break.” He smiled at the policeman. “When you wake, you’ll find yourself in surroundings comparable to those of a five-star hotel.” The doctor drew the liquid from an ampoule into a syringe.

Berger raised a hand. “That’s not necessary.”

Konstantin raised an eyebrow. “You mentioned having studied political science. I didn’t know you’d studied medicine as well. Since my valued colleague and I have come to the same conclusion independently of each other, the decision stands, my friend. Relax, and you won’t feel the little prick at all.”

Berger looked around, seeking help, but found only shrugs and smiles. With resignation, he allowed Konstantin to give him the injection. Seconds later, his eyes were already closing. “Does he always express himself so sententiously?” he still managed, barely comprehensible.

Daniel patted Berger’s shoulder. “Yes, he does, but you get used to it, and as a doctor he’s really damned good.”

Irritated, Konstantin collected his utensils, threw the used syringe into a red container, and tossed his plastic gloves after it. “To what exactly was your question referring?” he asked with such puzzlement that Daniel laughed.

“Nothing; just forget it. Your patient’s sleeping. What now?”

“Well, now I trigger the alarm. However, only personnel I trust will respond. Two of them I’ve explicitly asked to keep an eye on who takes an interest in this tragic occurrence despite the fact that doing so is not among their primary responsibilities. I want to know who I can expect this subversive behavior from.”

“What?” Sandra lacked the patience for politeness.

“I expressed myself clearly,” said Konstantin, manifesting a complete lack of understanding, while he removed the sensors from Berger’s body and smiled with satisfaction when a shrill alarm went off.

Although Sandra knew the policeman was only sleeping, she swallowed hard when his body was rolled out of the room under a sheet.

“I hope they’ll at least use a normal ambulance and not a hearse to transfer him,” she murmured to herself.

When Sven grinned at her comment, she’d have liked to kick him in the shin, but that would clearly have been childish; she confined herself to giving him an evil look. “I was talking to myself; you can stay out of it.”

“Talking to yourself? At your age? Before that gets out of control, please make sure the medical center’s computer is providing the correct information about Berger. We’ll meet in front of the entrance afterward.”

At the medical center’s information counter, there was a long line of people waiting. Many of them were nervous and already impatient, but the lady at the computer didn’t let this ruffle her. With a combination of gestures and the repetition of key words, she described the way to the patient being sought by a woman wearing a head scarf and a long robe.

After a short time, the only people left between Sandra and the woman at the computer were a tall blond man with strikingly tanned skin and a teenager with an orange punk hairstyle, who was holding a light-blue teddy bear bearing the word
Welcome
and probably wanted to go to the obstetrics unit.

She stopped speculating about whether the boy with the teddy bear could be the father of the newborn and how his outfit with its black leather and chains fit with the cuddly stuffed animal when the lady gruffly rejected the blond man’s inquiry. The blond man didn’t give up and showed her an identification card. Sandra immediately recognized the credit card–sized format. Ignoring the punk’s outraged look, she stepped closer to the counter and saw the emblem of Schleswig-Holstein but was still too far away to make out the name. Straining her ears, she listened to the quiet conversation and caught the name Mario Berger.

Wearing a significantly more reconciled expression, the hospital employee typed on her keyboard again. Her smile, which had been friendly up to this point, took on a masklike aspect. It took a considerable time before she looked at the blond man again and told him something in a hush.

His healthy color changed to paper white. Without another word, he stepped aside. Aimlessly, he walked a few steps toward a bakery in the medical center’s entrance area before he came to a stop, failing to notice that he was blocking the path of a man with crutches.

The punk had received the desired information, and it was Sandra’s turn. With a grim look, she kept the gentleman behind her at a distance and pointed at a sign demanding discretion. “I have only one question. The blond gentleman who just asked about Mr. Berger—was his name Hannes Wartberg?”

Before the lady could react, Sandra held out her police identification card and tapped the emblem of the Hanseatic City of Hamburg. “Up to now, we have only worked together over the phone and through the Internet. It’d be pretty embarrassing if I was trying to console the wrong colleague.”

“That’s really tragic. Yes, that was the name on his ID. My condolences for the death of your colleague.”

The honest sympathy caused Sandra to feel guilty about her deception, and she forced a smile. “Thank you.”

Wartberg was still standing in the midst of the throng of students and patients. It was very tempting to burst out with the truth, but that would not only be dumb but also extremely irresponsible. The danger that the entrance area was being watched by their enemies was too great.

Sandra had to address him three times before he noticed her. “We need to talk,” she said, showing him her identification.

Wartberg nodded. Rage replaced his stupor. “How could this happen? Last night, they said he was out of the woods. The lady over there indicated that there had been an incident. She said I should speak to the ward physician regarding the details. I don’t understand.”

“Come with me.” Wartberg didn’t react. When Sandra repeated her demand, he drew his blond eyebrows together. Then she grabbed his arm. “You have questions? Good; I have answers. But not here. Come on.”

This time, he went with her. With mechanical movements he followed her to the forecourt of the medical center. Among the waiting taxis sat Dirk’s Audi and Daniel’s Mercedes. Neither of the two was paying any attention to the taxi drivers’ evil looks and unambiguous gestures.

Sven whistled through his teeth in greeting after Sandra’s quick explanation. “That saves us time. Were you planning on doing anything in particular, Daniel? If not, I’d like to borrow Sandra for the upcoming questioning.”

Dirk yawned and leaned against the Audi. “You can forget about me for the next couple hours. Michael’s gotten in touch by text. We’re going to pay a visit to his main client.”

Daniel sighed. “There aren’t a lot of possibilities left. I’ll grab our new comrade and take a look at the documents Berger mentioned with Kat and Lars. Maybe we’ll find a clue. Have any of you had a look at that gangster wannabe from yesterday? A cross-check might give us something.”

“You’ve gotten it all through e-mail,” Dirk said with another yawn.

Wartberg had been listening to them in silence; now the rage he had held in check exploded. “Who do you think you are? I want to know how a colleague of mine just died. I don’t know you, and I have no idea what documents you mean, but I’m not going anywhere. You can’t tell me what to do. Is that clear?”

Sven put his hand through his hair. “This is the wrong place for lengthy explanations. Too many interested listeners. If it’s not enough for you that Berger trusted us, I can call Dr. Eisenberg to ensure your support. Aside from that, I have the right to give you instructions in cases of imminent danger. And I’m doing so: get in the Mercedes! You’ll get details from my colleague. Sandra, say good-bye to Daniel. We have to go.”

“If we’re going to meet at headquarters, I can just ride with Daniel. It’s not going to take that long to collect our colleagues’ documents,” Sandra said. She didn’t care for Sven’s look. “Kat and Lars are not particularly familiar with the material; I want to use the ride to speak to Wartberg. Man, cut out the stupid innuendos; I can keep my job and private life separate.” Annoyed, she turned away and practically threw herself onto the passenger seat of the Mercedes. Damn it, she regretted the outburst. Although a casual tone was usual among them, Sven was a number of steps above her in the hierarchy, and one didn’t speak to superiors like that. The slight pressure behind her temple increased to a painful pounding—the last thing she needed. With her eyelids closed, she tried to relax her stiff neck. Someone got in the car. She knew it was Daniel and sensed his disapproving look. When she opened her eyes a crack, she saw that she had been mistaken. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for and unprofessional; it won’t happen again, boss,” she said with a tortured smile.

“I’d say he deserved it to some extent. Lean forward some.”

“Why?”

“Just do it. Keep your shoulders loose. Sven and Wartberg will be done any minute. I want to make good use of the time until then.”

Curious, Sandra obeyed, although she couldn’t imagine what Daniel was planning. He stroked her neck with a featherlight touch; then, he began exerting strong pressure. A brief pain was replaced by pleasant warmth. Her muscles and sinews seemed to move into their correct positions; the tension in her neck disappeared along with the pounding behind her temple.

“Better?”

How were men able to express in a single word a mixture of self-satisfaction, concern, and understanding? “Yes. The headache’s as good as gone. How did you know that?”

“I’m a doctor. If the pain comes back, I’ll give you ibuprofen. That’s best for headaches, but it’ll probably be enough if we tell Wartberg about the real circumstances of Berger’s passing, don’t you think?”

“Is it that easy to see through me?”

Daniel smiled. Sighing, Sandra was about to respond when the rear car door was yanked open. Wartberg appeared to be boiling with rage as he dropped onto the backseat. “The instructions from the inspector were clear. What happens now? Tell me. I’ll jump.”

Sandra took a deep breath and ignored his aggressive tone. It was bad enough that Daniel looked as though
he
might explode any second; that wouldn’t get them anywhere.

“Do you have a car here?” she asked, controlling herself.

“No, I’m on foot. I live around the corner. Why?”

“I would have ridden with you. Please calm down. Normally, a special task force of ten or twenty men would be working a case like this. We’re far fewer than that and have been working day and night.”

“My sympathy knows no bounds. Are you sure you spend your nights on police matters?”

This uncouth remark, which was obviously a consequence of Sven’s earlier words, was the last straw for Sandra. She turned around and said, “For your information, Mr. Wartberg, my partner was on duty for almost twenty-four hours without a break, until the early hours of the morning. He was engaged in a firefight and operated in an environment you wouldn’t dare to enter in broad daylight. I swear to you: one more inappropriate comment and you’re going to see what I’m really like! You want to help your partner? Then act like it.”

Wartberg seemed to shrink in front of her eyes. He cleared his throat several times and avoided Sandra’s gaze. “You can drive to Hamburg. I’ll get back somehow.” He took out a USB stick from his jacket pocket. “Everything’s on here.”

After a last look, Sandra turned back around and put on her seat belt. They left the medical center and drove past the federal police training grounds where Sandra had gotten to know the impressive firing range the previous day.

“There are some places I’d rather be right now,” she said.

“Same here.” Daniel held out his cell phone. “Call Dirk and tell him we’re driving the same way. He should make sure no one’s following us.”

“Do you see anyone?”

“Impossible to say. This is the fastest way to get to the autobahn. Two cars left the medical center after us. One’s directly behind us.”

After the brief phone conversation with Dirk, Sandra let Wartberg in on their investigation, leaving out the activities of the SEALs. If he was still angry, he gave no sign of this and asked sensible questions; Sandra was unable to answer these.

He exhaled. “Now I understand what you meant. Though we have a lot of material, we’re completely unable to tie it all together. The only chance is to lay out all the pieces next to each other. The connections must be there, and we just have to find them.”

“That’s exactly what we intend to do. Then we have the interrogations and the conversation with Weinreich. Tonight we’ll surely gain some ground,” Sandra said.

They had finally reached the A20. Daniel accelerated and passed Dirk’s Audi. Close together, the two vehicles raced along the autobahn, ignoring the speed limit. Daniel’s cell phone vibrated in Sandra’s hand: a call from Dirk’s phone, but Sven was on the line. “Everything’s clean. You can give him the happy news.”