by B C Schiller
‘I’d rather do it myself,’ Olivia said. She didn’t want a stranger in her flat.
‘But you’re unwell,’ Levi countered, ‘and you need to stay in hospital.’
‘I’m fine. I’ll take a taxi to my flat, pick up the documents and come straight back.’ Olivia could tell Levi was not convinced by her plan, and he was right – it probably wasn’t a good idea for her to leave the hospital just yet. ‘All right,’ she conceded, ‘here’s the key. The file is in a brown envelope on the desk in my study, first door on the left – but promise me you won’t go in my sitting room.’
‘Why?’ Levi asked.
‘It’s not very tidy.’
‘I’m not bothered,’ Levi said, ‘but I promise.’
‘I’ll probably be much better tomorrow and can be discharged. In the meantime, you’d better take the diary. It won’t be safe here. I can’t even lock the wardrobe.’
‘All right.’ Levi put the diary in an inside pocket of his coat and rose awkwardly to his feet.
‘What happened to your leg?’ Olivia asked. She’d heard from Anna, her journalist friend, that Levi had been seriously injured in a shooting, but she wanted to hear more details.
Levi dodged the question. ‘I’ll tell you another time,’ he said. ‘You have your little secrets too.’
Olivia didn’t respond, only looked at Levi thoughtfully. ‘You’re right. And those little secrets should remain little secrets.’
‘That suits me just fine.’ Levi raised a hand to say goodbye.
After he’d gone, Olivia stared at the clock on the wall. Levi hadn’t insisted on finding out what had happened to her five years ago and she appreciated that. He was a sensitive person who respected her privacy.
The hands of the clock inched forward very slowly. Seconds became minutes. Minutes seemed like hours, and sometimes Olivia felt that time was standing still altogether.
She kept thinking of the car that had raced towards her. It was not some random accident. Her mobile beeped. It must be Levi, she thought, cheering up, but to her surprise it was her father’s number on the display.
‘Papa, what’s the matter?’
‘There . . . is . . . it is very untidy in my flat.’
On hearing her father’s strained voice, Olivia started to panic, realising with a shock that she’d completely forgotten about Leopold yesterday and that his nurse had not been on evening duty either.
‘Flora, there’s a stranger in my flat,’ her father whispered. ‘He’s messing everything up.’
‘Who is with you, Papa? Papa, who is it?’
‘You don’t understand what I mean, Flora. I’ve kept everything. You always laughed about it, Flora, but it was meant to keep us safe.’
‘Sorry, Papa, but it’s Olivia here. What are you talking about?’ Olivia was getting upset, and fear for her father was nearly choking her.
‘You don’t have to tell me anything. Stop rummaging around and then get out of my house!’ The anger in her father’s voice was quite clear over the phone.
‘Stay calm, Papa, and do exactly what I say. Sit down on the sofa and switch on the telly. Do you understand me? You only have to press the red button.’ There was an ominous silence at the other end. ‘Papa, are you still there?’
Her father didn’t answer, but Olivia could vaguely hear what was going on in the flat.
She had to do something and right this minute. Her father was the only person left in her family. He was her rock, and she just couldn’t lose him as well.
With a loud moan Olivia got up. Once standing, she felt dizzy and had to cling to a chair for a moment before, very slowly and very upset, shuffling to the wardrobe to fetch her dress. Her face contorted with pain as she slipped it on and when she looked in the mirror, she was shocked at the dark shadows under her eyes and the deep wrinkles on either side of her mouth.
‘Not a good idea to simply disappear from here,’ she whispered to her mirror image.
But she had to go to her father. Gritting her teeth, she made it through to reception. The ward sister looked up in surprise when she saw Olivia.
‘But Frau Doctor Hofmann, you can’t just leave. You’re injured and need to rest.’
‘I’m OK. Please give me a discharge note to sign,’ Olivia replied impatiently and raised a hand. ‘And please call me a taxi.’
When the car arrived, Olivia had to hang on to the door because the pain was almost intolerable, but she couldn’t give in – her father needed her.
30
Nils Wagner froze when he heard the croaky voice next door on the phone. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead. For a moment he stopped searching the room and listened tensely to what the confused old man was saying. Coming from the other side of the wall, the words were scrambled and without meaning. Nils had entered the flat quietly through the narrow side entrance, formerly used by staff, which only had a very simple lock.
When the brain fails, even the most intelligent person turns into an idiot, Nils thought. He closed the door of the study quietly, so he’d not be surprised by Leopold Hofmann, his former boss, while rummaging through his flat. He hastily went through file after file, throwing them carelessly on the floor after he’d examined each one.
Olivia had told him that her father had not kept any files from his work at the clinic, but that was certainly a lie. Her eyes had given her away. You notice things like that as a psychiatrist.
After rummaging through every box without finding anything, Nils stopped for a moment. Leopold had been in this state for four years now. His decline had been surprisingly rapid, but in the past few months he’d become more stable, which was no doubt due to Olivia’s loving care.
He could just ask Leopold directly whether he’d kept any files from his former work. Maybe he still had the documents relating to the experiments Nils had carried out at the clinic. If something like that became public knowledge, his planned political career would never happen. Maybe they’d even take away his licence as a psychiatrist. And what then?
Nils took a syringe from his pocket. Opening the door, he went out into the hallway. Leopold was now muttering to himself. Who had he been talking to? Probably to Olivia, but she was still in hospital so shouldn’t present any danger. Nils wiped his forehead with his gloved hand then went through to the sitting room.
‘Hello, Leopold,’ Nils said with an evil smile. ‘How are you?’ He pronounced each word with care, so Leopold would understand him better.
‘Who are you?’ Leopold looked at him with suspicion. He didn’t look well. His hair was unkempt, his shirt buttoned the wrong way and his trousers were stained. Quickly Nils walked towards him, rolled up the old man’s shirt sleeve and jabbed the needle into his arm. It had an immediate effect. Leopold’s pupils narrowed until they were only pin-size. The drug would intensify the dementia, but it also might have an impact on the long-term memory – which was just what Nils was after.
‘I’m from the board of directors from the clinic,’ Nils said. ‘I need to ask you some questions.’
‘Board of the clinic?’ Leopold rolled his eyes and pondered the words. ‘And what do you want to know?’
‘I want to pick up the files you have here about your colleague Nils Wagner.’
‘Nils? Ah yes, Nils the philanderer.’ Leopold shook his head. ‘Yes, I have a few things to say about Nils. His methods are not in line with our code of ethics. I’ve watched him closely and taken numerous notes about it.’
‘Give me those notes. I’ll pass them on to the board directly.’ Nils stepped closer.
‘You remind me of somebody.’ Leopold winced.
‘Sure, sure, we’ve met quite often at meetings.’
‘If you say so,’ Leopold said doubtfully.
‘Well, where are the notes?’ Nils glanced at his watch. Around ten minutes had passed since Leopold’s phone call. Olivia might have asked someone to go and see her father, so he needed to hurry.
‘I took notes over several year
s. Initially it was only rumours and there was no proof, but then I found a videotape concerning a patient called Lisa Manz and that was all the evidence I needed.’
‘A videotape?’ asked Nils, his pulse starting to race. ‘Where is it?’
‘I took a copy. All the files are in my study,’ Leopold said. ‘Let’s go over there.’
He shuffled ahead of Nils to the hallway. Nils relaxed slightly. Soon all the incriminating material would be in his hands. Nobody could get at him any more. As soon as the effect of the drug waned, Leopold would forget all about their conversation and would sink back into his own little world.
‘May I go ahead?’ Leopold asked politely in front of the door to his study. With trembling hands, the old man pressed the door handle. ‘Oh, what’s happened here?’ he asked, stopping in his tracks.
Damn, thought Nils. The files were all still on the floor, while a stack of torn papers lay on the desk.
‘I guess the cleaning lady hasn’t been,’ he said in an effort to reassure Leopold. ‘She’ll be here soon to tidy everything up.’
‘Ah yes. I nearly thought that someone might have entered my study without permission,’ Leopold said, scratching his head. ‘Now where might those things be?’ He turned around several times and then looked at Nils uncertainly. ‘I’ll have to think about this for a moment,’ he said apologetically.
‘No problem,’ Nils replied, trying to control his impatience. Time was flying and he had to leave soon but didn’t want to give up when he was so close to success. ‘Shall I tidy up a bit, while you concentrate?’
‘No, that isn’t necessary. Everything is kept in one box.’
‘And where might this box be?’
‘It’s behind the yellow winged chair and has a plant pot on top of it. That way it’s not obvious.’
‘Very original,’ conceded Nils, noticing the flowering orchid on a box. The files had been right under his nose all the time. Why hadn’t he spotted it before? Leopold Hofmann really had been a very good psychiatrist. He could make the obvious disappear and make the hidden visible.
‘I’ll show you the notes. We can go through them together. We cannot afford to make mistakes in the case of such serious allegations.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Nils replied. ‘The commission will investigate the notes in detail. Please hand them over to me now.’
‘Should I really do that?’ mumbled Leopold, uncertain. The effect of the drug was slowly wearing off.
‘Let me help you,’ Nils said, pushing Leopold aside. He picked up the plant pot to place it next to the box on the floor. At the same time Leopold touched his shoulder.
‘What are you doing there?’
Nils was startled and dropped the pot, which crashed to the parquet floor with a loud bang. Leopold began to weep and clawed at Nils’s shoulder.
‘Let go of me,’ Nils hissed. He pushed Leopold, who stumbled backwards, fell and hit his head on the floor. Nils opened the box and found several files, fastened together with string.
‘Where’s the videotape?’ He turned around to Leopold, who was lying on his back, confused, his eyes blank. ‘The video – where do you keep the video?’ Nils shook Leopold’s shoulders, but the old man seemed incapable of speech as his head bounced backwards and forwards like that of a ragdoll.
‘Damn!’ Nils shoved him back with disgust and jumped up. He took the box and turned it upside down. There was nothing left in there. Did this video really exist, or was Leopold fooling him? Out in the stairwell, the lift started to rattle.
‘Where’s the bloody video?’ Nils tried one more time. He grabbed Leopold by the arms and yanked him to his feet. ‘Does this video really exist?’ he shouted.
‘Video? What are you talking about? Of course I have the video. It’s here,’ Leopold said timidly. He pulled a DVD from the shelf. Nils glanced at it. It was Fitzcarraldo.
‘That shit film!’ Nils hurled the DVD into the corner, then hastily stuffing the paper files into a plastic bag he rushed into the hallway. At that moment he heard the old lift creakingly coming to a standstill. He just managed to get out of the flat by the side entrance and run down the stairs before Olivia stepped out of the lift.
31
Levi tried turning the key but to his surprise found the door unlocked. Carefully he opened it and stepped inside. The old parquet floor creaked. The sight of a figure at the other end of the hallway startled him for a moment, but it was only his own reflection in the large mirror on the far wall. Slowly he went in further. It was quite dark, but he didn’t want to switch on the light. There were doors on both sides of the corridor, and he remembered that the study was the first room on the left. The double sliding doors at the end of the corridor stood ajar and a ray of sunlight fell through the gap, cutting through the darkness like a knife. He stopped in front of the wide door reluctantly, knowing that he was not to enter the sitting room: it was private. Finally his curiosity got the better of him and he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
‘My God!’ Levi took a deep breath. Olivia’s sitting room was large and very bright. Specks of dust were dancing in the last rays of the sinking sun that shone in through the large windows. Dotted around the room were exotic plants in large pots and the bay window, looking onto the street below, was alive with colourful flowers. A stack of photo albums sat on a large sofa in the middle of the room. On the far wall were dozens of photos of a small child with blonde hair and pictures of a fair-haired man. Some of the photos had black markings on them. Above the display was the word, ‘Why?’ written in black paint.
Levi crept closer and stared at a large photo showing Olivia with her husband and child. It seemed to have been taken in happy times, long ago. Olivia had had long curly hair back then. She was smiling. And above that photo, more writing in black: ‘Where are you?’
Levi didn’t know much about Olivia’s family apart from the few bits of information he’d found online. He hadn’t liked to pry into what was clearly a private grief. What exactly had happened to her husband and daughter and why had they disappeared? Had they been victims of a crime? Levi realised now why Olivia hadn’t wanted him in her sitting room. What he had discovered here was a very personal process of dealing with a loss so terrible that no ‘working through’ could ever lead to resolution.
Levi found it difficult to pull himself away from the room. He’d come here to find a few files Olivia had taken from the archive and not to snoop around in her flat and private life. He’d promised not to enter the sitting room and now he felt like an intruder.
Feeling guilty he returned to the corridor and entered Olivia’s study. It was full of unusual pieces of furniture. Some of the items seemed to have come from South America and behind the desk hung a painting of a colourful jungle city in warm, luminous colours. A tag read ‘Casa Caruso, Manaus de Flora’.
Olivia had said that the files were in a brown envelope on the desk, but all sorts of papers and documents lay scattered over the table.
He searched the drawers and noticed thin scratches on the bottom one. Feeling the wood with his fingertips, it was clear that the marks were fresh. Someone had broken the lock. Carefully he opened the drawer – it was empty. Then he spotted the brown envelope on the floor. Nothing in it. The files were gone.
Suddenly Levi heard something from the room next door. He stood upright, holding his breath. It sounded like an animal moving on soft paws over a tiled floor. Did Olivia have a cat? No, she probably would have mentioned it. Again he heard a hesitant tap-tap-tap. Without a doubt, there was somebody else in the flat.
He sneaked to the door and looked in the corridor. Silence. Then he pushed open the next door. It was the kitchen.
‘Hello? Is anybody there?’ he called. ‘It’s OK, I’m a friend of Olivia’s. I’m here to get some of her things.’ The kitchen floor had black and white tiles like a chessboard. A white table was positioned in front of the window, and on it a colourful vase with fresh flowers. On the worktop, under a
shelf with exotic spices, stood a bottle of red wine. Nobody here, thought Levi and went in further.
But when he reached the middle of the room, he heard hinges squeak and at the same moment was pushed in the back. Stumbling forward, he instinctively grabbed hold of the table. He turned around and briefly caught a glimpse of a man in a hoodie, with some files under his arm.
‘Stop! Police!’ Levi shouted, but the stranger ran on.
Levi set off in pursuit. Running was no longer an option with his injured leg, but somehow he kept up and caught the man by the sleeve. With an angry shout the stranger spun around, dropping the files. His face hidden by a scarf and the hood pulled down over his forehead, he pushed Levi back with both hands then lunged for the files on the floor. Levi stumbled backwards, but recovering himself quickly, managed to crawl towards him and grab one of his legs. The man hit Levi repeatedly, but the ex-policeman didn’t let go and was instead dragged across the floor to the hallway and the landing outside. Levi’s grip loosened, and the stranger pulled free. Somehow, though, Levi managed to grab hold of the files and pull them away. As the man bent down to get them back, Levi shoved him and, stumbling, the intruder tumbled down a few steps before getting up and racing down the rest of the staircase.
‘What’s all this noise?’
Startled at the sound of the voice behind him, Levi staggered to his feet with a moan. A woman in jeans and T-shirt was standing in front of him, carrying a small child.
‘What are you doing in Olivia’s flat?’ she asked nervously, turning the child around so it couldn’t see him.
‘Call the police, fast!’ Levi said, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand. He glanced back to Olivia’s flat, then hid the files under his jacket. Relieved, he sat down on the top step to wait for the police to come.
32
The old man was lying on the floor, his breathing shallow. ‘Papa, what happened to you?’ Ignoring her own discomfort, Olivia knelt next to her father who stared at her wide-eyed. He could only stammer confused words. He was in shock.
