The Lie (49 page)

Dieter was magnificent. He managed to chat to Wolfgang in such a way as to pass on information to her, all the while staring at her as if she were some exotic animal. Perhaps that was what she'd become for him. He must have been amazed that she'd managed to maintain the persona of Nadia through five days in Paris, being abducted by Zurkeulen and the confrontation with Hardenberg.

Dieter absolutely refused to provide the favour by which Wolfgang wanted to prove Hardenberg had been involved in dishonest dealings. It was possible, he said, that Hardenberg had been used by Susanne, rather than vice versa. Would it not then perhaps be better to shift the whole of the blame onto her? The way he described it, the time she'd spent reading trashy novels to his mother had given her a taste for luxury. He claimed that even while they were still married she'd made inordinate demands. And as a qualified banker, she knew how to siphon off money into her own account.

His ex-mother-in-law - Dieter felt obliged to do something for the old lady, she had no one else. But something she'd said suggested Susanne had at least dropped hints to her mother about a carefree future together in the sun. It sounded as if she'd intended to flee the country and take her mother with her.

However, Dieter didn't think Agnes Runge would repeat what she'd told him in front of a policeman. But perhaps, he said, he might be able to squeeze a little more out of her that would throw a clearer light on Susanne's plans - provided the police left her in peace.

Wolfgang nodded. “No problem.”

Two hours later they took their leave. Dieter saw them to the door and gave her a furtive tug on the sleeve. Wolfgang went out to the car,
while she stayed with Dieter for a moment. “Your mother knows,” he whispered. “I'm taking her out for a drive on Sunday. It would be nice if you could be with us. Otherwise I can't guarantee she'll go along with it much more. Three o'clock, the car park at the inn.” In his normal voice, he added, “I hope you understand why I have to refuse, Frau Trenkler. I don't want to be dragged into this business. But, anyway, I don't believe proving Herr Hardenberg was involved in investment fraud would help you.”

“Don't worry about me,” she said. “So far I've managed quite well on my own in this affair.”

Wolfgang was unhappy and he made it clear on the journey back. If she'd whined and moaned a bit, he said, perhaps Lasko would have helped them nail Hardenberg after all. He didn't like the idea of Hardenberg getting off scot-free. She liked the idea even less, but what Dieter had suggested couldn't be rejected out of hand. It was doubtful whether it could be proved that Hardenberg had murdered Heller. He would deny to the police what he'd admitted to her. Perhaps he might even try to shift the blame for everything onto Nadia.

Michael was still asleep when they got back to the house. Wolfgang immediately went back on the computer again and checked the smaller files. It was just stuff to do with insurance together with finance for a couple of properties. He couldn't open the larger files without the appropriate program.

He deleted masses of data he didn't need for his investigation. What he did need was storage space and he hoped he could gain enough kilobytes by the evening to be able to reinstall the operating program. It was probably in the safe. Fortunately he was still a few hundred kilobytes short when evening came, so it wasn't worth sending her up to the loft. He just instructed her to thin out her own files. By that time Michael had joined them again.

After Wolfgang had left, she sat down at the computer to make sure he didn't find out the truth about the two hundred thousand for Jo. The sensible thing would perhaps have been to go up to the loft with Michael and watch what he did, as she had done with Wolfgang. But there was sure to be an opportunity to do that some other time. At the moment NTA was more important. She didn't want Jo to get into difficulties too.

“Would you be an angel and get me the program?” Of course Michael would be an angel. When he returned, the NTA file had disappeared. She continued deleting - all the analyses, reports and notes of discussions. Finally there was enough space. It was a bit tight, but that only affected the speed at which the computer worked. Michael took over to reinstall the program because she'd suddenly developed a sore back and was hungry too.

They spent a peaceful night. On Wolfgang's instructions Andrea, her little boy, her husband and grandmother had been put up by relatives. Jo and Lilo were protected by their own alarm system. Moreover one of Wolfgang's men was in a car in the street outside, bored to tears.

On Friday morning Michael set off for the lab at the usual time. She got up with him and made breakfast. He just drank a cup of coffee, refusing the toast with ham and a gherkin she'd so lovingly prepared. “You know I can't eat a thing this early in the morning.” One more thing she knew for certain.

When Wolfgang appeared, shortly before eight, she'd had time to ring Dieter. He read out an English text and she repeated it three times, until he was satisfied with her pronunciation. Then he reminded her of the outing with her mother on Sunday afternoon.

Schneider came with Wolfgang. He was to relieve the man outside in the street. Wolfgang wanted her protected during the day as well. He was nervous when she picked up the telephone, explaining that they only had one attempt. If the code word “Agnes Runge” didn't work, she'd have to fly out to Nassau to get Zurkeulen's money transferred back to Luxembourg. And if it turned out that AR wasn't Arnim Röhrler either, he could forget the whole plan. But it worked - with her mother's name.

“That's that, then,” Wolfgang said in satisfied tones as she replaced the receiver. He made a brief call himself, sending one of his men to get Susanne Lasko's passport and ID card from his colleagues in the murder squad. Then he said, “We're going to Luxembourg on Monday,” handing the receiver back to her.

Her call was transferred several times, finally to the office of a bank manager. As she started to speak, Wolfgang gave her the thumbs up, though all she had to do was to introduce herself with the name she'd used for years, make an appointment for Monday and ask for the money
that would arrive from Nassau in the next few hours to be ready for collection.

On Tuesday she was to hand the money back to Zurkeulen and perhaps somehow get him to confess to the murder of Susanne Lasko. Wolfgang doubted very much whether she'd manage that, but handing over the money would be enough to get Zurkeulen on a charge of tax evasion. Solving a murder case wasn't really his business and, anyway, he doubted whether Zurkeulen would have got his own hands dirty. And Ramon was beyond justice.

 

On Saturday she went shopping with Michael. There was always someone close to them, but he didn't let that bother him, he was full of plans again. The guest room that didn't have the access to the loft had to be cleared out, wallpapered and equipped with a cradle, a table for changing nappies and so on. And he'd already been thinking about a name. He was hoping for a daughter and would like to call her Laura - after his mother - but he wasn't sure how she would feel about it.

“Why not?” she said. “Laura's a lovely name.”

Her reward was a long kiss. Then he started talking about Wolfgang's plans for the next few days. He wasn't at all happy with them, but he realized there was no alternative. His concern gave her the opportunity to make arrangements that would allow her to go and see her mother. Repressing a sigh, she said, “If only we could be sure that'll be the end of it. But I can't get those other letters out of my mind. You remember, the same letter nine times over?”

He nodded.

“Who's to say Zurkeulen's the only one who's been cheated?” she went on. “The fact that Wolfgang's not found any evidence of other investors means nothing. Philip must know if there are more of them. But I'm afraid that once Wolfgang starts working on him we won't get any more out of him. Philip will be happy to let me walk straight into any trap.”

Michael saw it that way too. She didn't even have to hint that she needed to talk to Hardenberg alone, he suggested it himself. He even arranged it so that she could slip out of the house unnoticed shortly after midday on Sunday. It didn't prove difficult to persuade Schneider, who by now was staying in the house, not outside, to have a swim in the pool.

Before he went down with Schneider, he reminded her about the Niedenhoff concert. In all the excitement she'd completely forgotten it. That evening in the Beethovenhalle. “We'll go, yes? It'll do us good to switch off for a while. And Jacques would be disappointed if we didn't turn up.”

She would have preferred imagining Jacques's disappointment to meeting him face to face. On the other hand, what could happen at a concert? She'd be sitting there among the audience, while a man played the piano up on the stage. She'd never been to a concert before.

She got to the inn punctually at three. Her mother was in Dieter's estate. Dieter demanded the keys to her car and pressed his into her hand, urging her to get off to avoid anyone happening to see her. There was scarcely time to greet her mother properly. Agnes Runge just said, “Off we go, then.” Dieter followed in the Alfa for a while then turned off and disappeared.

“I didn't go to the funeral,” her mother said. “Dieter said it would be better if I didn't. I knew very well nothing had happened to you. After all, we'd spoken on the telephone. It's just that they wouldn't believe me. But tell me all about it. Why does Dieter have to tell the police those horrible things about you? You didn't really steal those people's money, did you?”

Only yours, Mum, she thought. It wasn't easy to think up a harmless beginning for the gruesome end. She felt more churned up inside from seeing her mother again than she'd expected. For several minutes she was just Susanne Lasko, a woman who'd put her mother, the only person she really loved, through a lot of uncertainty and pain. It was difficult to hold back her tears and sound reasonably convincing while driving Dieter's estate, at the same time pushing away her mother's hands, which were either feeling her face or hampering her own hands on the steering wheel.

Agnes Runge listened attentively. Eventually she asked, “But why didn't you say anything, child? You could have told me the truth.”

At that all her self-control went. “I'm really sorry, Mum. I didn't want to lie to you, but I didn't want you to worry, either. That's why I thought—”

“That's all right,” Agnes Runge broke in. “The main thing is that everything's all right now. It is, isn't it?”

“Yes,” she sobbed.

“Then stop crying, child.”

Dieter had prepared the ground a little, hinted at the arrival of a grandchild and painted a rosy picture of her only daughter's new life: a splendid house, a nice, good-natured husband, a scientist with a decent income and regular hours - all the things she hadn't had with him.

That it could never be a “proper” marriage, with a marriage certificate and the priest's blessing did take a little of the gloss off it. But a priest would have refused to bless a second marriage anyway and a certificate was just a piece of paper. Agnes Runge was looking forward to meeting Michael Trenkler. She couldn't see why that should be impossible. “You can't spend the rest of your life behaving as if you were his real wife, child. You have to tell him the truth. He has a right to know.”

So as not to cause her mother any more worry, she promised to have a full and frank discussion with Michael as soon as the matter of the stolen money was sorted out. Agnes Runge was already dreaming of her first visit to her daughter's new home. Even if she wouldn't be able to see the splendour Dieter had described, it would be enough for her to be able to run her hands over this or that.

When they got back to the little car park at the inn, her eyes were red-rimmed and her lids swollen. Dieter was already waiting.

“When will I see you again, Susanne?” Agnes Runge asked.

“Soon,” she promised.

“And I really can't tell anyone, not even Frau Herzog? I'm sure Johannes would be happy if he knew. Frau Herzog said he took it badly. And if he's told he mustn't talk about it, I'm sure he'll keep his mouth shut.”

Dieter had already opened the driver's door. He pulled her out of her mother's arms and took her aside. “I'll see to that,” he said. “Have you a moment?”

“Actually, no,” she said. “I've got to go now, or I'll be late for the concert.”

“What concert?” Dieter asked. “You'd be better having a nice evening in. Given the circumstances, I'm sure your husband will understand that you'd rather not go where you have to meet a lot of people.”

“But he wants to go,” she said. “He's looking forward to it.”

Dieter shook his head, muttered something about not being able to understand how people could be so stupid, then added, in a louder voice, “Don't overdo it.” As she got into the Alfa, he said, “Look after yourself.”

“I have so far,” she replied and drove off.

Michael was waiting for her nervously in the hall. He started when he saw the lines of tears down her cheeks. “Problems?” he asked in a whisper. It wasn't possible to speak any louder. He was dressed for the concert and not alone in the house. But her shake of the head and whispered, “Everything's OK,” weren't enough for him. “So why have you been crying?”

“I went to see Helga too,” she whispered. “She's in a bad way.” That he could understand.

Schneider was in the living room with Jo and Lilo, looking at the Maiwald and listening to an explanation of the significance of the holes with gold paint sprayed round them. It wasn't clear whether he really was interested or just passing time. He looked at her, an embarrassed grin on his face. “You weren't meant to be going out for a spin.”